"Avram Davidson - Bumberboom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davidson Avram)

the voluntaries of food and drink and staples, of steeds and of trade-goods and manufactured articlery?
From what knacker's yard did you steal that wretched beast which mocks the name of horse? Answer!
Reply! And give good account, else I will spread you to the off-wheel of Juggernaut and flog you with the
traces!"
Zembac Pix descended delicately from the scrap of rug bound with a rope cinch which served him for
a saddle, and was momentarily seized with a spasmodic contraction of the glottis which impeded his
speech and may possibly have been responsible as well for the slight instability of his gait. And in his arms
he tenderly cuddled a firkin containing some sort of liqueous matter.
"Master-Lord," he began, "with the utmost diligence have I carried out every word of your
instructions, whether plainly expressed or merely implied. I purchased writing materials, I made clear
copies in the most exquisite calligraphy, and I long retained in my possession a specimen the mere sight of
which would instantly persuade you; alas, that on returning hither I was with infinite reluctance
constrained to employ it for a usage too gross to be named between us-- hem hem-- though even kings
must live by nature.
"Furthermore I posted them in the public places and I proclaimed their message at the cross-roads.
Moreover I entered into all places of resort and refreshment in order the more thoroughly to disseminate
the matter. Conceive, then, with what incredulous and tearful regret I must report that, far from hastening
to contribute to the meritorious support of the Free Company, they merely hastened to confect pellets of
wool and wax to stuff into their ears 'to save them,' as they said, 'from the horrid noise and torturesome
sound' of Bumberboom... The steed and this firkin of liquor of malt do not represent, Lordling, even one
single poor contributor but only my success in a game of skill at which I was constrained to participate,
they threatening me with many mischiefs and malignancies should I refuse."
There was a long, long silence. Then Zembac Pix, sighing deeply, drew from the firkin of liquor a
quantity in a leather cup and offered it to Mallian. And in truth it did not smell ill. The breeze played upon
the hill; the crewmen dozed or picked for lice; the sun was warm. "To think of such ingratitude," Mal
said, after a while. Zembac Pix wept afresh to think of it. They were mildly surprise to find themselves
holding to the wheels of the cannon and gazing down upon the reprobate lands below.
"I owe it to my father not to disgrace his name and station by a breach of my word, would you not
agree?"
"Utterly, Master-Lord."
"I said that contumacy would merit bombardment." He belched slightly upon the vowels of the last
word. "And so it must be."
In this they were in perfect accord, but a slight difference of opinion now arose as to whether the town
nearest below lay at a distance of two hundred lengths or at one nearer to three hundred lengths-- and
also whether the demonstrated distance of Bumberboom's range was as much as three hundred lengths
or as little as two hundred lengths. They concluded that it was better to use more force than necessary
rather than less than necessary, and they accordingly loaded a charge a third heavier than that used
before. Furthermore, on the same principle, they rammed a double shot down the barrel.
"And now for to prime her," said Zembac Pix, giggling slightly.
"Hold," said Mal. "last time we were too close to witness the moment of ejection. I would witness this
act and not have my vision clouded with smoke."
The pothecary nodded and chuckled. "Perfectly do I understand and take your meaning. I shall lay a
long powder-trail... let me use this length of wood as a gently inclined plane. Excellent, excellent; the
powder stays in place and does not slide off! ...and thus and thus and thus... Ahem hem, I seem to have
used up the last of the powder."
His face was so woebegone that Mallian was constrained to laugh. "No matter. No matter. We will
make more. Is not the recipe contained in the formulary book? Where is the fire-stick? Here. Ha! Hear it
sizzle! So-- 'morose and barbarous' you have been termed, folk of Nor, and now here is your requition
for-- "
All the thunders of the sky and the lightnings thereof burst upon them in rolling slashes of fire and