"04 - Mariel of Redwall" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jacques Brian)

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Far, far over the horizon, far to the northwest, far across the oily blue green billows which were rising, lashing their tops into rippling white peaks of foam, far over the abysses and deeps of the heaving seas, far from the peace and calm of Redwall Abbey, stood Gabool the Wild.

Clouds of jet black and slate gray boiled down out of the sky to meet the lashing waves. A blast of hot wind like the gust from hell-furnace doors set Gabool's scarlet cape fluttering as he stood on the high cliffs of his island, defying the elements. Thunder boomed out, forked lightning ripped through the lowering vault of the sky. Gabool drew his jewel-hilted sword and waved it at the storm as he roared and laughed in exultation. The deadly curved blade with its sharp double edges hummed and sang against the wind.

Gabool the Wild ruled the seas, he was the dread Lord of Terramort Island, King of the Searats, Warlord of all Rodent Corsairs, Captain of Captains. No creature alive was a fiercer fighter than Gabool. From the lowly position of a young scullyrat he had fought his way up to be the biggest, the most savage, the cruelest and the most ruthless. In all the seas and oceans there had never been a rat like Gabool the Wild. Huge gold hoops

dangled from his ears, his fangs (which he had lost long ago in hard-fought combat) were replaced by sharp jutting gold canines, each one set with a glinting green emerald. Below his weird yellow blood-flecked eyes, an enormous dark beard sprouted and curled, spilling down to his broad chest, silk ribbons of blue and red woven through it. Whenever Gabool moved, his rings, bracelets, medals and buckles jangled. Gold, turquoise, silver, ivoryЧplunder from the far places of the high seas. Strange weapons with shimmering twisted blades were thrust into the purple sash about his waist. Dangerous to serve and deadly to trust, he stood laughing in the teeth of the gale, satisfied that the creature who had dared go against him was now fish bait on the seabed, Thunder crashed overhead as the skies released a deluge of whipping, lashing rain. Lightning crackled around the rocky tor, illuminating the barbaric figure as if even the high heavens were challenging him.

The Warlord of all Waters threw back his huge head and shrieked out his battle cry to the storm.

"Gaaaabooooool!"

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The pitifully tiny figure of a mousemaid was hurled about like a chip of bark in the eastward rush of high roaring seas. Tormented rolling waves, whipped to a frenzy by the screeching wind, billowed and swelled, long combing chariots pulled fiercely along by tossing white stallions of foam and spray.

The mousemaid, partially stunned, dared not even let one paw free to undo the rope about her neck. Her numbed paws clung grimly to a jagged spar of driftwood as she plunged wildly about in the maddened waters, now on top of a wave high as a castle, hurtling down blue green valleys into a trough that yawned like a deep, dark monster mouth, now being spun sideways with the spume, now being flung backwards from greater heights to vaster depths.

The rope became tangled around the wooden spar; painfully the little maid tried to bite at the hemp. Seawater gushed into her mouth, and she retched as the water threatened to choke her. A flailing end of rope struck her across the eyes. Unthinkingly she let go of the spar; it whipped off in a different direction from her. With both paws tearing feebly at the rope circling her neck, she was shaken about like a small fish upon rod and line.

All consciousness was finally beaten from her body when the spar struck her across the head, and the helpless figure was lost amid the pounding crashing seas. Obscured by the boiling cloud curtains above the maelstrom, not even the stars or moon were witness to the fate of the little mousemaid, victim of Gabool's cruel whim.

Close to the north side of the Abbey building, a new construction was under way.

Astride the wooden scaffolding of a half-finished bell tower, young Dandin pounded doggedly away at the hollow beech log.

Thonkthonkthonkthonk!

Though he was a sturdily built little mouse, he felt himself driven aback by the blasting wind. Shaking rainwater from his eyes, he bent his head against the onslaught of the storm and continued stubbornly thwacking the log with two hefty yew clubs. Whenever Dandin raised his gaze slightly he could see the fringe of surrounding Mossflower Woods swaying and hissing, rustling and sighing, like a restless ocean.

"Dandin, come down, you'll catch your death up there!"

The young mouse peered over the scaffold, shielding his eyes against the deluge. Draped about with a clean worn-out floursack, Mother Mellus, the Redwall badger, stamped a huge paw upon the wet sward.

"D'you hear me, young mouse? I said down, this instant!"

Dandin blew rainwater from his whiskers, smiling

roguishly he called back, "Right this instant, marm, just like you say."

Without a backward glance Dandin threw himself from the tower and came plunging earthward to the accompaniment of the badger's startled growls. Not more than a fraction from the ground, he stopped falling and swung there, dangling by a strong vinerope harnessed about his waist. Dandin touched his nose with a wet paw.

"Came as quick as I could, marm ..."

A huge paw cuffed him roughly about the ears as Mother Mellus freed him from the encircling vinerope. Tucking him firmly in her elbow crook like a baby, she hurried in out of the rain, scolding Dandin as he complained loud and long.

"Put me down. I'm not a baby, I can walk ..."