"John Dalmas - Yngling 1 - The Yngling" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dalmas John)

warden's likely to come around and question us, and
we'll tell him what happened. He'll have the body
taken away and that'll be the end of it. There won't
be any trouble for you, if that's what you're
wondering about."
Nils and the sailor began walking back
to the wharf.
"And what about his clan?" Nils wondered.
"What's a clan?"
"A clan is, well . . ." Nils had never
thought about this before. It was as natural a part
of life as eating or breathing. "A clan is like the
family, in a way, but much bigger, and the members
fight for each other and take vengeance if need be."
"In Denmark we don't have clans.
Countrymen have lords. But townsmen and sailors are
loyal mainly to their bellies."
"And I won't be judged at a ting?"
"Ting? I've never heard the word." The
sailor paused. "Swordsman, let me give you some
advice. The world you've come to is a lot different
from your barbarian backcountry. Its ways and even
its speech are different. You and I can talk together
20
partly because Danish and Swedish aren't so different
in the first place, but also partly because we
sailors are used to going to ports in Jotmark and
adapting our speech for Swedish ears. But most Danes
have never heard a Swede, and you won't find it so
easy to talk to them at first. And if you travel
farther, to the German lands for example, you won't
understand their ways or anything they say. If you're
going to travel in civilized lands, you'd better
learn something about their customs; otherwise, even
a man like you will find only hardship and death.
The inn loomed two-stories high in the
darkness and was made of planks instead of logs. The
shutters were open, lighting the street in front of
the windows and leaving nothing between the noise
inside and the passersby outside. Nils had a krona in
his pouch, strong hunger in his gut, and the sailor's
words in the back of his mind as he moved lightly up
the steps.
The noise didn't stop as he crossed the
room, but the volume dropped a few decibels and faces
turned to look. The innkeeper stared a moment at the
bizarre but dangerous-looking barbarian wearing a
pack with a shield on it, a slung bow, and a sword.
Then he walked over to him.
"Do you want a bed, stranger?"