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

'I thought you might forget,' said Bison, 'so I entered you myself.'
'Tell me you are joking,' said Kebra, his voice cold.

'I never joke about my debts. Shouldn't you be out there practising?'

The crowds were beginning to gather as Dagorian strolled out onto the meadow. He was uncomfortable
in full armour, the gilded black and gold breastplate hanging heavy on his slim shoulders. Still,
he thought, at least I don't have to wear the heavy plumed helm. The cheek guards chafed his face
and, despite the padded cap he wore below it, the helm did not sit right. Once when the king
called out to him Dagorian had turned sharply and the helm had swivelled on his head, the left
cheek guard sliding over his left eye. Everyone had laughed. Dagorian had never wanted to be a
soldier, but when your father was a hero general - and, worse, a dead hero general -the son was
left with little choice.

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And he had been lucky. The White Wolf had taken him on to his staff, and spent time teaching the
youngster tactics and logistics. While Dagorian did not enjoy soldiering he had discovered he had
a talent for it, and that made a life of campaigning at least marginally tolerable.

The preparations for the king's birthday were complete now, and within the hour the crowds would
begin to surge through the gates. The sky was clear, the new day less cold than yesterday. Spring
was coming. Only in the evenings now did the temperature drop below freezing. Dagorian saw the
three old warriors talking by the fence rail. He strolled across to where they stood. As he
approached, Kebra the Bowman strode away. He looks angry, thought Dagorian. The black swordsman
saw Dagorian approach and gave a salute.

'Good morning to you, Nogusta,' said the officer. 'You fought well yesterday.'

'He does that,' said Bison, with a wide, gap-toothed grin. 'You're the son of Catoris, aren't
you?'

'Yes.'

'Good man,' said Bison. 'You could always rely on the Third Lancers when he was in command. He was
a hard bastard, though. Ten lashes I got when I didn't salute fast enough. Still, that's the
nobility for you.' He swung to Nogusta. 'You want more pie?' The black man shook his head and
Bison ambled away towards one of the food tents.

Dagorian grinned. 'Did he just praise my father, or insult him?' he asked.

'A little of both,' said Nogusta.

'An unusual man.'

'Bison or your father?'

'Bison. Are you entered in any of the tournaments?'

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