"Cornwell, Bernard - Vagabond" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cornwell Bernard)

man, a big shield slung from his left shoulder, pushed through the
onlookers. We've not got all day! What in the name of the devil
are you all gawking at? Jesus Christ on His goddamn cross, what
is this, Eskdale bloody fair? For Christ's sake, move! Move!" The
shield on his shoulder was blazoned with the badge of a red heart,
but the paint was so faded and the shield's leather cover so scarred
that the badge was hard to distinguish. Oh, suffering Christ!" The
man had spotted the Dominican and his servant. Father! We're
going now. Right now! And I don't wait for prayers. He turned
back to his men. Mount up! Move your bones! There's devil's work
to be done!"
Douglas!" the Dominican snapped.
The grey-haired man turned back fast. My name, priest, is Sir
William, and you'll do well to remember it."
The priest blinked. He seemed to be suffering a momentary con-
fusion, still caught up in the ecstasy of his pain-driven prayer, then
he gave a perfunctory bow as if acknowledging his fault in using
Sir William's surname. I was talking to the blessed Dominic," he
explained.
Aye, well, I hope you asked him to shift this damn fog?"
 And he will lead us today! He will guide us!"
Then he'd best get his damn boots on," Sir William Douglas,
Knight of Liddesdale, growled at the priest, for we're leaving
whether your saint is ready or not." Sir William's chain mail was
battle-torn and patched with newer rings. Rust showed at the hem
and at the elbows. His faded shield, like his weather-beaten face,
was scarred. He was forty-six now and he reckoned he had a sword,
arrow or spear scar for each of those years that had turned his hair
and short beard white. Now he pulled open the sty's heavy gate.
On your trotters, father. I've a horse for you."
I shall walk," Bernard de Taillebourg said, picking up a stout staff
with a leather thong threaded through its tip, as our Lord walked."
Then you'll not get wet crossing the streams, eh, is that it?" Sir
William chuckled. You'll walk on water will you, father? You and
your servant?" Alone among his men he did not seem impressed
by the French priest or wary of the priest's well-armed servant, but
Sir William Douglas was famously unafraid of any man. He was a
border chieftain who employed murder, fire, sword and lance to
protect his land and some fierce priest from Paris was hardly likely
to impress him. Sir William, indeed, was not overfond of priests,
but his King had ordered him to take Bernard de Taillebourg on
this morning's raid and Sir William had grudgingly consented.
All around him soldiers pulled themselves into their saddles. They
were lightly armed for they expected to meet no enemies. A few,
like Sir William, carried shields, but most were content with just a
sword. Bernard de Taillebourg, his friar's robes mud-spattered and
damp, hurried alongside Sir William. Will you go into the city?"
Of course I'll not go into the bloody city. There's a truce,
remember?"
But if there's a truce .