"Deborah Doyle - Circle of Magic 02 - The Secret of The Tower" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doyle Debra)

"Hallo, Sir Guillaume!"
The other knight halted and turned toward the outcry.
"Well met, Sir Walter!" he shouted.
He galloped back along the road to join the little group. There, Walter introduced the newcomer to the
other knights.
"This is Sir Guillaume of Hernefeld, whom I think some of you already know by reputation. I've seen him
fight, and have fought by his side, and can tell you that he is both valiant and courteous."
Sir Guillaume was a young knight, about Walter's age, with dark hair and a thick moustache.
He bowed from the saddle to Sir Reginald and his companions. "It's good to meet friends on the road at
last-I'd begun to fear that I was the only fellow going to a tournament in this forsaken region."
The day wore on. About midafternoon, the road began a long downhill slope toward a line of trees that
snaked from horizon to horizon across their path.
"Lubac River," said Sir Reginald, pointing at a glimmer of water among the trees.
By daylight, among friends of his own rank, the young knight seemed a pleasant fellow-but Randal hadn't
forgotten the man's arrogant tone and hard fist in the dark of the inn yard. "I'm told there's a ford here,"
the knight continued, "and an inn about two hours beyond."
All the riders urged their horses forward, Randal along with the rest. The knights arrived in a group at the
water's edge, where slender poplars grew along the riverbank, and a shallow spot in the river allowed
men or carts to go across. Here at the ford, the river was broad and moved slowly, but Randal could
hear the rushing noise of white water, and saw that a little farther downstream, the river broke into foam
as it passed over unseen rocks.
Sir Philip urged his horse into the clear blue water to scout the way to the other side. The ford was
shallow-the water didn't even dampen the knight's stirrups as he rode across. On the opposite bank he
halted, looked at the ground, and then swung down from his horse to look closer.
Then he stood, faced the others, and gestured for them to hurry.
The other knights put spurs to their horses, and came charging across the river. At the top of the bank,
Walter called out, "What have you got, Sir Philip?"
"A rare mystery," the knight replied, "and a chance for some sport." He pointed at the road. "What do
you make of those marks?"
Walter scanned the ground with a hunter's keen and experienced eye. Randal could remember him
looking over the tracks of deer and wild boar in much the same way during their boyhood together at
Castle Doun. "There was a fight here," he said. "Not more than a day ago. Three riders were attacked
from both sides by men on foot."
The young knight pointed to where the grass at the sides of the road was broken and pressed down.
"See, there's where the attackers lay in wait. And the tracks of the horses go this far along the road, and
no farther-but there they are again, leading off into the woods."
Randal, listening, didn't doubt that Walter was right. The journeyman wizard remembered the merchants
who'd ridden into the Basilisk from the direction of Cingestoun. The merchants had traveled on
horseback, and a man-at-arms accompanied them to help guard the pack train.
They'd left at dawn yesterday, heading for the market fair at Tattinham-but it looked as if they hadn't
gotten very far.
"So what do we do now?" asked Sir Reginald.
"Ride on?"
"And turn our backs on a chance for fame and glory?" asked Sir Philip. "Of course not!"
Sir Guillaume was more practical. "How many of them are there?"
"No more than a dozen," said Walter. "And they're on foot."
"Well, let's go looking," said Sir Guillaume. "But not for too long. I'd hate to be caught in the woods after
dark."
"If the next inn is no more than two hours down the road," said Walter, "we'll have time."
Guillaume nodded briskly. "Then let's go."