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

Kebra said nothing for a moment, transferring his gaze to the snow-topped peaks away to the west.
He had first seen these mountains a year ago, when Skanda the king, having won the Battle of the
River, had ridden into Usa to take the emperor's throne. Cold winds blew down now from these grey
giants and Kebra shivered and drew his pale blue cloak closer about his slender frame. 'My eyes
are fading. I could not win.'

'No, but you could have taken part.' The words hung in the cold air. A team of thirty workers
moved to the king's pavilion and began to raise wind-shields of stiffened crimson silk around it.
Kebra had seen the pavilion constructed on many occasions, and recalled, with a stab of regret,
the last time he had stood before it, receiving the Silver Arrow from the hand of the king
himself. Skanda had given his boyish grin. 'Does winning ever get boring, old lad?' he had asked.

'No, sire,' he had answered. Turning to the crowd he had raised the Silver Arrow, and the cheers
had thundered out. Kebra shivered again. He looked up into

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the black man's pale, unreadable eyes. 'I would be humiliated. Is that what you want to see?'

Nogusta shook his head. 'You would not be humiliated, my friend. You would merely lose.'

Kebra gave a tired smile. 'If I had entered most of the Drenai soldiers would have bet on me. They
would lose their money.'

'That would be a good reason to decline,' agreed Nogusta. 'If it were truly the reason.'

'What is it you want from me?' stormed Kebra. 'You think there is a question of honour at stake
here?'

'No, not honour. Pride. False pride, at that. Without losers, Kebra, there would be no
competitions at all. There will be more than a hundred archers taking part in the tourney. Only
one will win. Of the ninety-nine losers more than half will know they cannot win before they draw
the first shaft. Yet still they will try. You say your eyes are fading. I know that is true. But
it is distance that troubles you. Two of the three events require speed, skill and talent. Only
the third is shot over distance. You would still be in the top ten.'

Kebra stalked away from the fence. Nogusta followed him. 'When the day comes that you don't wish
to hear the truth from me,' he said, 'you merely have to say.'
The bowman paused and sighed. 'What is the truth here, Nogusta?'

The black man leaned in close. 'You demean the championship by refusing to take part. The new
champion will feel he has not earned the title. In part, I fear, this is why you have declined.'

'And what if it is? He will still earn a hundred gold pieces. He will still be honoured by the
king, and carried shoulder high around the Park.'

'But he will not have beaten the legendary Kebra. I

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