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

stepped up to Gregory's side and glanced up at the towering Natalese, but Gregory simply shook his
head and looked around at the company. All were silent, save for the sound of a few desultory
shovels striking the icy soil; all of them were gazing at their leader as he walked away and
passed into the edge of the surrounding forest.
Gregory cleared his throat again, this time loudly and having caught the men's attention he
motioned for them to get on with the work at hand.
'He hates me,' Father Corwin said, a touch of sadness in his voice.
'No, Father. He just hates all of this.' Gregory nodded at the wreckage of battle that littered
the small clearing: the trampled-down snow - much of it stained a slushy pink - broken weapons,
arrows, and the fifty-two Tsurani corpses that lay where they fell, including the wounded who had
been finished off with a knife across the throat.
His gaze was fixed on the priest. 'The fact that you accidentally caused this fight, that wasn't
your fault.'
The priest wearily shook his head. 'I'm sorry. I was lost out here and didn't know the Tsurani
were so close behind me.'
Gregory stared straight into the pale-blue eyes of the old priest but the priest looked straight
back at him, not flinching, not lowering his gaze even for an instant. Mendicant priests of any
order, even those of the Goddess of Purity, had to be tough enough to live off the land and
whatever bounty providence offered. Gregory had no doubt that the mace at the priest's belt was
not unblooded and that Father Corwin had faced his share of dangers over the years. Besides,
Gregory was an experienced judge of men, and while this priest seemed meek at the moment, there
was obvious hardness beneath the apparently mild exterior.
'I wish I'd never left my monastery to come here and help out,' the priest sighed, finally
dropping his gaze. 'We got lost, brothers Valdin, Sigfried and I. We were making for the camp of
Baron Moyet, took a wrong turn on the trail and found ourselves behind the Tsurani lines.'
'Only Rangers and elves travel these paths without risk of getting lost, Father,' Gregory offered.
'These woods are treacherous. It is said that at times the forest itself will hide trails and make
new ones to lead the unwary astray.'
'Brothers Valdin and Sigfried were captured,' the priest continued, spilling out his story. 'I
escaped. I was off the trail, relieving myself, when the Tsurani patrol took them. I ran in the
opposite direction after my brothers were dragged away. I was a coward.'
The Natalese Ranger shrugged. 'Some might call it prudence, rather than cowardice. You denied the
Tsurani a third prisoner.'
The priest still appeared unconvinced.
'There was nothing you could have done for them,' Gregory added with certainty, 'except join them
as a captive.'
Corwin seemed slightly more reassured. 'It was foolish of me to have run, you'll agree. Had I been
more stealthy I'd not have led them to you. When I saw one of your men hiding off the side of the
trail, I just naturally went straight to him.'
Gregory's eyes narrowed. 'Well, if he'd been doing a better job of hiding, you wouldn't have seen
him, then, would you?'
'I didn't know they -' he pointed towards the Tsurani corpses littering the field '- were right
behind me.'
Gregory nodded.
What should have been a clean, quick ambush incurring minimal loss had turned into a bloodbath.
Eighteen men from the Marauders - nearly a quarter of Dennis's command - were dead, and six more
were seriously wounded. As it was, the engagement had been a Kingdom victory, but at far greater
cost than was necessary.
The priest rambled on, starting his tale yet again. Gregory continued to study him. It was obvious
the man was badly shaken. He was poorly dressed, wearing sandals rather than boots. A couple of