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

woods, seeking a sheltered hollow, or a cliff wall, where he could build his own fire and rest.

The horse stumbled in deep snow, but steadied itself. Nogusta almost fell from the saddle. As he
righted himself he caught a glimpse of a cabin wall through a gap in the trees. Almost entirely
snow covered it was near invisible, and had the horse not balked he would have ridden past it.
Dismounting Nogusta led the exhausted gelding to the deserted building. The door was hanging on
one leather hinge, the other having rotted away. The cabin was long and narrow beneath a sod roof,
and there was a lean-to at the side, out of the wind. Here Nogusta unsaddled the horse and rubbed
him down. Filling a feedbag with grain he looped it over the beast's ears, then covered his broad
back with a blanket.

Leaving the horse to feed Nogusta moved round to the front of the building and eased his way over
the snow that had piled up in the doorway. The interior was dark, but he could just make out the
grey stone of the hearth. As was customary in the wild a fire had been laid, but snow had drifted
down the chimney and half covered the wood. Carefully Nogusta cleaned it out, then re-laid the
fire. Taking his tinder box from his pouch he opened it and hesitated. The tinder would burn for
only a few seconds. If the thin kindling wood did not catch fire immediately it might take him
hours to start a blaze with knife and flint. And he needed a fire desperately. The cold was making
him tremble now. He struck the flint. The tinder burst into flame. Holding it to the thin kindling
wood he whispered a prayer to his star. Flames licked up, then surged through the dry wood.
Nogusta settled back and breathed a sigh of relief, and, as the fire flared, he looked around him,
studying the room. The cabin had been neatly built by a man who cared.

11

The joints were well crafted, as was the furniture, a bench table, four chairs and a narrow bed.
Shelves had been set on the north wall. They were bare now. There was only one window, the
shutters closed tight. One side of the hearth was filled with logs. An old spider's web stretched
across them.

The empty shelves and lack of personal belongings showed that the man who had built the cabin had
chosen to move on. Nogusta wondered why. The construction of the cabin showed a neat man, a
patient man. Not one to be easily deterred. Nogusta scanned the walls. There was no sign of a
woman's presence here. The builder had been a man alone. Probably a trapper. And when he had
finally left - perhaps the mountains were trapped out - he had carefully laid a fire for the next
person to find his home. A considerate man. Nogusta felt welcome in the cabin, as if greeted by
the owner. It was a good feeling.

Nogusta rose and walked out to where his horse was patiently waiting. Removing the empty feedbag
he stroked his neck. There was no need to hobble him. The gelding would not leave this place of
shelter. The stone chimney jutted from the wooden wall of the cabin here, and soon the fire would
heat the stones. 'You will be safe here for the night, my friend,' Nogusta told the gelding.

Gathering his saddlebags he returned to the cabin and heaved the door back into place, wedging it
against the twisted frame. Then he pulled a chair up to the fire. The cold stones of the hearth
were sucking almost all the heat from the fire. 'Be patient,' he told himself. Minutes passed. He
saw a woodlouse run along a log as the flames licked up. Nogusta drew his sword and held the blade
against the wood, offering the insect a way of escape. The woodlouse approached the blade, then