"David Gemmell - Drenai Tales 05 - In the Realm of the Wolf" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gemmel David)

'He's very quiet,' said Sheras, 'but I wouldn't like to see his bad side, if
you take my meaning. Hard man. Cold eyes. He used to be almost friendly, but
then his wife died - five ... six years ago. Horse fell, rolled on her. There
were two daughters, twins. Good-looking girls. One married a boy from the
south and moved away. The other is still with him. Shy child. Too thin for my
taste.'
Goldin the tavern-keeper, a thin-faced refugee from the Gothir lands, also
remembered him. 'When the wife was
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killed he came here for a while and drank his sorrows away. He didn't say
much. One night he just collapsed and I left him lying outside the door. His
daughters came and helped him home. They were around twelve then. The city
elders were talking of removing them from his care. In the end he paid for
places at the Priests' School and they lived there for almost three years.'
Kreeg was uplifted by Goldin's tale. If the great Waylander had taken to
drinking heavily then he was no longer to be feared. But his hopes evaporated
as the tavern-keeper continued.
'He's never been popular. Keeps to himself too much,' said Goldin. 'But he
killed a rogue bear last year, and that pleased people. The bear slaughtered a
young farmer and his family. Dakeyras hunted it down. Amazing! He used a small
crossbow. Taric saw it - the bear charged him and he just stood there, then,
right at the last moment, as the bear reared up before him he put two bolts up
through its open mouth and into the brain. Taric says he's never seen the
like. Cold as ice.'
Kreeg found Taric, a slim blond hostler, working at the Earl's stables.
'We tracked the beast for three days,' he said, sitting back on a bale of hay
and drinking deeply from the leather-bound flask of brandy Kreeg offered him.
'Never saw him break sweat - and he's not a young man. And when the bear
reared up he just levelled the bow and loosed. Incredible! There's no fear in
the man.'
'Why were you with him?'
Taric smiled. 'I was trying to pay court to Miriel, but I got nowhere. Shy,
you know. I gave up in the end. And he's a strange one. Not sure I'd want him
for a father-in-law. Spends most of his time by his wife's grave.'
Kreeg's spirits had soared anew. This was what he had been hoping for. Hunting
a man through a forest was chancy at best. Knowing his victim's habits made
the task slightly less hazardous, but to find there was one place the victim
always visited. . . that was a gift from the gods. And a graveside at that.
Waylander's mind would be occupied, full of sorrow, perhaps, and fond
memories.
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So it had proved. Kreeg, following Taric's directions, had located the
waterfall soon after dawn this morning, and found a hiding place which
overlooked the headstone. Now all that was left was the killing shot. Kreeg's
gaze flickered to the ebony crossbow, still lying on the grass beside the
grave.
Ten thousand in gold! He licked his thin lips and carefully wiped his sweating
palm on the leaf-green tunic he wore.
The tall man walked back to the pool, collecting more water, then crossed to
the furthest rose bushes, crouching once more by the roots. Kreeg switched his