"Daley,.Brian.-.Coramonde.1.-.Doomfarers.Of.Coramonde" - читать интересную книгу автора (Daley Brian)

several of such men in Earthiast during the High Durbar preceding
the death duel for the throne, the clothing of a servant or merchant
would have been less conspicuous, so that Springbuck
approached his adventure with perhaps more romantic notions
than he admitted to himself.

Of Deaths, Of Departure 17

He donned the brief cincture, comfortably supple and, hi his
opinion, overwhelmingly preferable to stiff, heavy robes of state.
He then strapped to each forearm the leather demisleeves which
guarded against wounds from wrist to elbow. It was difficult work
manipulating the numerous buckles on each leather with one hand,
hampered in fastening the second by the hand-cupping cuff on the
first. Still, these were an infighter's defense he'd used before and
he knew their value well. He pulled on high cavalryman's boots and
picked up his sword, his newfound sword.

A curious weapon. He'd come across it poking around hi the older,
ignored rooms of the armories at Earthfast. Basket-hilted, it was
much like a cavalry saber except that the blade was only slightly
curved and a bit lighter than that, made of some unfamiliar, pewter-
looking metal. On the pommel was struck a single complex glyphic
which the Prince with his sketchy knowledge of such things, found
undecipherable. On either side of the blade, just above the narrow
fullers, was written the name Bar, an odd-seeming name for a
sword, evocative of defense rather than offense. It's most puzzling
aspect, however, was that even after obvious long neglect Bar was
bright, and its edge sharper than any he'd ever thumbed.
Convinced he'd found a weapon of some special property, he'd
kept his discovery to himself. Its scabbard had been unserviceable
with age, and so with some difficulty he'd procured another to
accommodate it, of black, polished fish skin with bindings and
fittings of white brass, and a belt to bear it.

He buckled the belt about his hips and fastened the tie-down
around his leg. Then he slipped his parrying dagger into the sheath
stitched inside the top of his left boot. Its hooked pommel rode just
high enough to protrude from the boot top below his sword, ready
to be seized at need in his left hand.

He'd thought of wearing a helmet and his fine chain mail, but
discarded the idea of several accounts. For one thing, both of his
suits of mail were known in and around Earthfast. The risk of
recognition would be increased, even if he were well cloaked and
hooded. For

18 THE DOOMFARERS OF CORAMONDE

another, he didn't care for its weight, since he wished to travel as