"Raymond E. Feist - Riftwar Legends - Honoured Enemy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)

reminding Dennis that he had done so as well when out on his first campaign long years ago.
'It was you that the priest saw from the trail wasn't it?'
The boy hesitated.
'It's not his fault,' Father Corwin said, impassioned. 'I stopped because I was exhausted from
running. I was staring straight at him, I couldn't help but see him.'
'That doesn't matter,' Dennis snapped, and the look in his eyes made it clear that he would not
tolerate another word from the black-robed priest. 'Well?'
'Yes, sir,' Richard replied weakly. 'It was me.'
'Why?'


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'I thought I was well concealed.'
'If that old man could spot you, be certain a Tsurani trailbreaker would have seen you. You are a
danger to yourself and to my command. I'm sending you back. You can tell your friends what you
want. I suggest you find a position with a nice comfortable mounted unit down in Krondor. No
brains needed there, just ride, point your lance, and charge. Then you can be a hero, like in the
songs and ballads.'
'I wanted to serve with you, sir,' the boy whispered.
'Well you did, and that's now finished.' He hesitated, but then his anger spilled out. 'Go take a
final look at that grave over there before we leave,' he said with barely-contained fury, his soft
voice more punishing than any screamed insult. 'Now get out of my sight.'
The boy stiffened, face as pale as the first heavy flakes of snow that began to swirl down around
them. The he nodded and turned about, shoulders sagging. As he rejoined the column the men around
him looked away.
The priest took a step forward.
Dennis's hand snapped out, and a finger pointed into the old man's face. 'I don't like you,'
Dennis announced. 'You were a bumbling fool wandering around out here where you had no business.
Damn you, don't you know there's a war being fought out here? It's not a war like the ones that
fat monks and troubadours gossip about around the fireplace. I hope you got a good belly full of
it today.'
Two of my "fat friends", as you call them, are prisoners of the Tsurani this day,' Father Corwin
replied, and there was checked anger in his voice. 'I volunteered to serve with the army as a
healer. I just pray I don't have to work on you some day. Stitching together flesh that has no
soul is bitter work.'
The priest turned and stalked away. The middle part of the column, made up of the stretcher-
bearers was starting off and Corwin joined them.
Gregory chuckled softly.
'What the hell is so funny?' Dennis snapped.
'I think he got you on that one. You did go a bit too hard on the boy.'
'I don't think so. He almost got us all killed.'
'He made no mistakes, I was but ten feet from him. I made sure he was well concealed.' As if
thinking of something, Gregory added, 'That priest has unusually sharp eyes.'
'Nevertheless, the boy goes back.'
'Is that what Jurgen would have done?'
Dennis turned, eyes filled with bitterness. 'Don't talk to me about Jurgen.'
'Someone has to. There's not a man in your company that doesn't share your pain. Not just over
losing a man they respected, but because they bear a love for you as well, and now carry your