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

Banelion shook his head. 'Can't stand him. He has the strength of an ox, and the brains to match.
A more irritating, undisciplined wretch I have yet to see. But he symbolizes the strength, the
courage and the will that has brought us across the world. A man to move mountains, Dagorian. Now
you best get some rest. We'll finish in the morning.'

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'Yes, sir. Can I fetch you some mulled wine before you retire?'

'Wine does not sit well with me these days. Warm milk and honey would be pleasant.'

Dagorian saluted, bowed and left the room.

39

Chapter Two

Regimental discipline was observed in ritual fashion. Every one of the zooo men of the regiment,
in their armour of black and gold, stood in a giant square around the barracks ground. At the
centre the twenty senior officers waited, and, seated on a dais behind them was the White Wolf. He
wore no armour, but was dressed in a simple tunic of grey wool, black leggings and boots. Around
his shoulders was a hooded sheepskin cloak.

The morning was bright and clear as Bison was led out. The lumbering giant had been stripped to
the waist, and Dagorian suddenly understood the man's bizarre nickname. His head was totally bald,
but thick, curling hair grew from his neck and over his massive shoulders. More like a bear than a
bison though, thought Dagorian. The young officer's dark gaze flickered to the men walking with
Bison. One was Kebra, the famed bowman, who had once saved the king's life, sending a shaft
through the eye of a Ventrian lancer. The other was the blue-eyed black man, Nogusta, swordsman
and juggler. Dagorian had once watched the man keep seven razor sharp knives in the air, then, one
by one send them flashing into a target. They walked straight and tall. Bison cracked a joke with
someone in the first line.

'Silence!' shouted an officer.

Bison approached the whipping-post and stood beside

40

the lean, hawk-faced soldier who had been ordered to complete the sentence. The man looked ill at
ease, and was sweating despite the morning cold.

'You just lay on, boy,' said Bison, amiably. 'I'll hold no grudge for you.' The man gave a weak,
relieved smile.

'Let the prisoner approach,' said the White Wolf. Bison marched forward and saluted clumsily.

'Have you anything to say before sentence is carried out?'
'No, sir!' bellowed Bison.