"Simon Hawke - Sorcerer 2 - The Inadequate Adept" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawke Simon)

thought that they looked pretty. But then again, he had been the foreman in charge of their construction,
and had developed quite a proprietary attitude about them.

Ever since Brewster had appointed him construction foreman on the projects at the keep, Bloody Bob
had undertaken his new duties with an earnest zeal. He insisted that everyone address him as "Foreman,"
and any brigand who forgot and called him Bob was fetched a mighty clout upon the head that usually
rendered him unconscious. And when Foreman Bob stood back for the first time to take a good look at
the fruit of all his labors, his massive chest had swelled with pride.

The construction of the solar collectors had entailed building wooden frames on which were mounted
loops of copper pipes, made by bending copper sheets around rods of pig iron and then forming them
and soldering them together. They were then painted black with pitch and connected to the water tank on
the fourth floor with a loop running through Brewster's brand-new Franklin stove, which Mick insisted on
calling an "O'Fallon stove," since he had made it in his smithy to Brewster's specifications and had already
taken orders for half a dozen more from the residents of Brigand's Roost. The water tank was kept filled
by the cistern on the roof, and the collectors stored the solar heat that would enable Brewster, for the
first time since his arrival in this primitive, medieval world, to take hot showers.

This, in itself, was a source of puzzlement to many of the brigands. As a rule, they didn't like to bathe at
all, and considered it an unhealthy practice. Since the infrequent baths they took at the insistence of Black
Shannon, who was averse to body odor, were normally taken in the ice-cold waters of the rushing
stream, it wasn't difficult to see where they had come up with this notion. As for the shower Brewster had
designed, they had no idea what to make of that, at all. Nor could they comprehend Brewster Doc's
other new alchemical mystery.. .a strange concoction he called "soap."

They had all crowded around to watch as Brewster directed Bloody Bob and Robie McMurphy in
rendering the fat from butchered spams, which were squat and ugly, hoglike creatures with rodent faces
and hairless, pink-speckled bodies. Their fat content was high, McMurphy had explained, and the meat
tasted so vile that even starving hunters passed them up. However, since animal fat had been required for
Brewster's "alchemical recipie," the brigands had slain half a dozen spams they found rooting in the forest.

Standing over a boiling cauldron that Mick had brought out from his smithy, McMurphy and Bloody Bob
worked under Brewster's direction, skimming the top until the "sorcerous brew" was clear. Then
Brewster had them pour it through some hand-woven cloth which they had filled with ashes, to add lye to
the mixture, into a mold where it was left to solidify. Mick had wrinkled his nose as he gazed at the soap
solidifying in the molds.

"And you say the purpose of this magically rendered fat is to cleanse the body?" he'd asked dubiously.

"Well... yes," Brewster had replied.

"And how does it do that?" asked Mick. He wrinkled his nose again. "You're not going to eat it, surely?"

Brewster laughed. "No, no, of course not, Mick. You stand under the shower and scrub yourself with it."

"Aye? And then what happens?" asked McMurphy.

"Well, then you rinse off," said Brewster. "And the dirt washes away, leaving you fresh and clean."

McMurphy shook his head in amazement. "Think of it!" he said. "A magical dirt remover!"