"Phyllis Eisenstein - Island In Lake" - читать интересную книгу автора (Eisenstein Phyllis)

"But remind him, please, that we of the village like music, too," he said. "So
that he does not keep you entirely to himself."

Alaric savored the crusty, still-warm bread. "I will do what I can," he said
between bites.

"I suppose I must deliver you to him, then. If you are ready..."

"Is there bread like this on the island?" asked the minstrel.

"There is the best of everything on the island," the headman replied.

Alaric downed a last draft of ale to clear the butter from his throat, then drew
the dark shirt from his knapsack and slipped it on. "I am ready."

The lake shore was a broad, barren margin, marked at the water's very edge with
a thick pale crust, like hardened foam. The causeway, made of fine, squared
blocks of stone so white it dazzled the eye, began well before this crust and
rose smoothly till, where it entered the water, it stood a man-height high above
the surface. Broad enough to accommodate two wagons abreast, it ran
arrow-straight to the island, broken by two gaps, each spanned by a heavy,
iron-banded drawbridge. At the very gate of the fortress was a third bridge,
guarded by a spearman in bossed leather armor. Taskol identified Alaric to the
man, and the two were admitted.

Inside the gate was a courtyard large enough to hold half the houses in the
village.

"This is a strong citadel," Alaric said, looking up at the high, crenelated
walls. Only a handful of armed men stood at the crenelations, scanning the world
beyond the lake. At any other castle, there would be dozens. "It's given you
safety for quite a long time, I would think."

"For my lifetime, and my grandfather's, and more," said Taskol. "No one living
remembers the last time we had to lock ourselves inside these walls for a siege.
Of course, the lake is our true defender."

"I would hate to fall off that causeway."

Taskol nodded. "So would I."

"Has anyone?"

"Not lately."

Alaric glanced over his shoulder. Beyond the gate, the lake lapped gently at the
pure white sides of the raised stone road. "What would happen if someone did?"

"No one could save him. Within a few heartbeats, the flesh would begin to shred