"David Gemmell - Winter Warriors" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gemmel David)

friendship of Kebra and Bison remained a mystery. The bowman was a fastidious man. His clothes
were always clean, as were his hands and skin. He was cultured and softly spoken, and he had a
rare talent for creating


space around himself, as if he disliked crowds and the closeness of bodies. Bison, on the other
hand, was an uncultured oaf and Ilbren despised him. The sort of man who would always drink two
more flagons of ale than he could handle, and then became aggressive. Innkeepers loathed such
customers. Bison's saving grace, however, was that to reach the last two flagons he could drink an
inn dry, and would make every effort to do so. This naturally created large profits. Ilbren
wondered how Kebra could tolerate such a friend.

'He did all this?' asked Kebra, shaking his head. Two long bench tables had been smashed, and
several chairs were lying in pieces on the sawdust-covered floor. The far window had been smashed
outward, and shards of broken glass still clung to the lead frame. An unconscious Ventrian officer
was being tended by the window, and two other victims, common soldiers, were sitting near the
doorway, one still bleeding from a gashed cheek, the other holding his bandaged head in his hands.

'All this and more. We have already swept away the broken crockery and two bent pots, which cannot
be used again.'

'Well, at least no-one is dead,' said Kebra, his voice deep and sombre, 'so we must be grateful.'

The innkeeper smiled and lifted a flagon of wine, gesturing the grey clad bowman to join him at a
nearby table. As they sat down he looked closely at Kebra's face. Deeply lined, as if carved from
stone, Kebra looked every inch his fifty-six years. The bowman rubbed his tired eyes. 'Bison's
like a child,' he said. 'When things go against him he loses control.'

'I do not know how it started,' said Ilbren. 'The first 1 knew of trouble was when I saw that
officer flying


through the air. He hit that table there, and cracked it clean through.'

Two Ventrian soldiers came in carrying a stretcher. Tenderly they lifted the unconscious man onto
it, and carried him out. A Drenai officer approached Kebra. He was a veteran, and well known to
the bowman as a fair man. 'You'd better find him fast!' he warned Kebra. 'The wounded man is an
officer on Malikada's staff. You know what the penalty will be if he dies.'

'I know, sir.'

'Gods, man! As if we haven't enough trouble with the cursed Ventrians as it is, without one of our
men cracking the skull of one of their officers.' The Drenai swung to the innkeeper. 'No offence
meant, Ilbren,' he said.

'Oh, none taken I am sure,' replied the Ventrian, with just a trace of sarcasm. The officer
wandered away.

'I am sorry for the trouble, Ilbren,' said Kebra. 'Do you know where Bison went?'