"Alexander Green - Crimson Sails" - читать интересную книгу автора (Green Alexander)

"Ah, why wasn't I born a writer? What a wonderful theme for a story."
"Now then," Egle continued, trying to round off his original thesis (a
penchant for myth-making--the result of his everyday work--was greater
than the fear of tossing seeds of great dreams upon unknown soil), "now
then, Assol, listen carefully. I've just been in the village you are probably
coming from; in a word, in Kaperna. I like fairy-tales and songs, and I
spent the whole day in that village hoping to hear something no one had
heard before. But no one in these parts tells fairy-tales. No one here sings
songs. And if they do tell stories and sing songs, you know, they are tales
about conniving peasants and soldiers, with the eternal praise of roguery,
they are as filthy as unwashed feet and as crude as a rumbling stomach,
these short, four-line ditties sung to a terrible tune.... Wait, I've got
carried away. I'll start again."
He was silent for a while and then continued thus:
"I don't know how many years will pass, but a fairy-tale will blossom in
Kaperna and will remain in the minds of the people for long. You'll be
grown-up then, Assol. One morning a crimson sail will gleam in the sun on
the far horizon. The shimmering pile of crimson sails on a white ship will
head straight towards you, cutting through the waves. This wonderful ship
will sail in silently; there will be no shouting or salvoes; a great crowd will
gather on the beach. Everyone will be amazed and astounded; and you'll
be there, too. The ship will sail majestically up to the very shore to the
strains of beautiful music; a swift boat decked out in rugs, flowers and
gold will be lowered from the ship. "Why have you come? Whom are you
searching for?" the people on the beach will say. Then you'll see a brave
and handsome prince; he'll be standing there and stretching forth his
hands towards you. "Hello, Assol!" he'll say. "Far, far away from here I saw
you in a dream and have come to take you away to my kingdom forever.
You will live with me there in a deep rose valley. You shall have everything
your heart desires; we shall be so happy together your soul will never know
the meaning of tears or sadness." He'll take you into his boat, bring you to
the ship, and you'll sail away forever to a glorious land where the sun
comes up and where the stars will descend from the sky to greet you upon
your arrival."
"And will it all be for me?" the girl asked softly.
Her grave eyes became merry and shone trustingly. Obviously, no
dangerous magician would ever speak thus; she came closer.
"Maybe it's already come ... that ship?"
"Not so fast," Egle objected. "First, as I've said, you have to grow up.
Then ... what's the use of talking? It will be, and that's all there is to it.
What will you do then?"
"Me?" She looked into the basket but apparently did not find anything
there worthy of being a suitable reward. "I'd love him," she said quickly
and then added rather hesitantly, "if he won't fight."
"No, he won't," the magician said, winking at her mysteriously. "He
won't. I can vouch for it. Go, child, and don't forget what I've told you
between two sips of flavoured vodka and my musings over the songs of
convicts. Go. And may there be peace for your fluffy head!"
Longren was working in his small garden, hilling the potato plants.
Raising his head, he saw Assol, who was running towards him with a