"Cook, Glen - Dread Empire 04 - Octobers Baby" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cook Glen)

"Been recruiting. Headed south now." Without alcohol in him Blackfang was as reticent as Mocker was loquacious.

"Thought that was where you were. With Reskird and Rolf. Speaking of Rolf, he turned up yesterday, three quarters dead, with that gang after him."

"Uhn," Blackfang grunted. "Not good. Didn't expect them to get excited this soon. Figured another year."

"What're you talking about?"

"Rolf's job to explain."

"He can't. Might never explain anything. Mocker, did you bring Nepanthe? We need medical help."

Before the fat man could reply, Blackfang interjected, "He didn't. I'll loan you my surgeon."

Ragnarson frowned.

"He's good. Youngster with a case of wanderlust. Now then, where to settle this lot? Looks like your fields have been hurt enough."

"Uhn. East pasture, by the mill. I want my animals near the house till this blows over." He wondered if there would be room, though. Blackfang's baggage continued rolling from the forest, wagon after wagon. This looked like a volkswanderung. "What you got here, Haaken, a whole army?"

"Four hundred horse, the same afoot."

"But women and children ..."

"Maybe word hasn't filtered down. There's trouble in Trolledyngja. Looks like civil war. The Pretender's grip is slipping. Fair-weather supporters are deserting him. Night raiders haunt the outlands. Lot of people like these, whether they favor him or the Old House, don't want to get involved."

A similar desire, after their family had been decimated in the civil war that had given the Pretender the Trolledyngjan throne, had driven Ragnarson and Black-fang over the Kratchnodians years ago.

"Had a letter from the War Minister a while back," said Ragnarson. "Wanted to know why there hadn't been any raids this spring. He thought something like Ringerike might be shaping up. Now I understand. Everybody stayed home to keep an eye on the neighbors."

"About it. Some decided to try their luck with us."

"What about the Guild? They won't like you showing their colors. And Itaskia won't want Trolledyngjans roving round the countryside."

"All taken care of. Fees paid, passes bought. Every man's a Guild member. At least honorarily. Doing everything by the book. We can't leave any enemies behind us."

"Will you explain?"

"Later, if Rolf can't. Shouldn't we put the doctor to work?"

"Right. Mocker, take him to the house. I'll help Haaken get his mob camped. You travel all night?"

"Had to to get here in time. Thought about sending the horse ahead, but they couldn't've gotten here before dark last night, and I didn't figure anything would happen till morning."

"True. True. You're a welcome sight."

iii) Missive from a friend

Rolf came round briefly while the surgeon, who doubted there was much hope, was removing the arrow. He had ridden too far and hard with the shafthead tearing his insides.