"Kushner,.Donn.-.A.Book.DragonUC" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dragon Stories)

wants to turn every merry feast into an armed camp. But the
day came when Greedyguts attacked Lady Ursula's betrothal
feast in the marquee.

Ursula, oldest and only unmarried daughter of the Earl of
Grimsby, was, at twenty-eight, handsome, stem-eyed, and
critical. Her temper and her tongue scared suitors away. At
last her harried father arranged a match with a silent, balding,
widowed knight whose stunted castle in the Welsh mountains
would supply his daughter with a sufficiently distant home of
her own.

The betrothal feast was held on a beautiful June day. The
wedding was to follow in four months, right after the harvest.
On the lawn before the castle a marquee, a great tent, was set
out, bleached linen on a carpet of bluebells and buttercups. It
was open at the ends, and a merry breeze stirred the banners
hanging inside. At one side a small orchestra of sackbuts,
lutes, viols, and trombones played without pause. Facing them
at a long table, the guests laughed and chatted, each talking
more loudly than the others.

Lady Ursula, in a long gown whose color exactly matched
the bluebells, sat at the center of the table. She glanced from
the guests to the musicians, and to her fiance, who sat at her
side, dour but unabashed, his eyes quietly calculating the
value of the silver dishes and flagons.

Lady Ursula made a sign. The orchestra fell silent; most of
the guests, in surprise, did so too. A roll of drums announced
the main course. This was ushered in by the chief chef in his
high white cap, followed by four serving-men in blue and
yellow livery. Each one bore proudly on his head a great silver
platter on which rested a whole roast peacock, stuffed with
larks. The guests sniffed deeply and happily, then gasped with

28

horror. They remained frozen with their mouths open. The
long black neck of a dragon had entered the tent directly
behind the last of the serving-men. Very gently the dragon
lifted the peacock off the plate, with no more sound than the
smacking of his thick lips. The serving-man, feeling his tray
suddenly lighter, turned in surprise, clanging it against a tent-
pole. While this note still sounded, the dragon ate the next
peacock. His great head hung motionless in the marquee while
he swallowed. The guests, still unable to move, dumbly watched
the passage of the peacock down the dragon's throat. He ate
the next one thoughtfully, in two bites.