"07 - The Bellmaker UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jacques Brian)

Nagru was big for a fox. Lean and powerful, he was mottled bluish gray from tip to tail, and his cruel eyes resembled chips of granite flake floating in a sea of carmine blood flecks. His only clothing was the full pelt of a wolf, its head resting on top of his own like a cowl with eyeless sockets. The hide trailed down over his back with the front limbs covering his own. The wolfclaws had been replaced with sharp iron hooks, and when Nagru slid his

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own paws inside them they became awesome weapons.

His mate, Silvamord, was smaller in stature, but no less savage. Her fur was whitish gray with a silver-striped muzzle and back markings, and her eyes were dark obsidian green. Her regalia was a thick skirt of animal tails with glittering chips of crystal cunningly sewn into them. She moved sinuously to its strange tinkle, the equal of her mate in cunning and evil.

Now the barbaric pair sat side by side, sipping elderberry wine from Floret's cellars and sharing the gamey meat of a long-dead plover. Nagru spiked a damson with his claw and shot it viciously at a fat old rat who stood nearby holding a stringed lutelike instrument.

"Yoghul, play my song!"

The rat began playing, singing the dirge in an eerie, high-pitched voice.

"Where do you come from, where do you go to, From tundras of white and bright sunrises few, 'Cross mountains and forests, o'er seas wide and blue, The one they call Foxwolf, the Urgan Nagru."

Yoghul was playing the verse over again when Nagru called across to Gael, "Hey, Squirrelking, d'you know why they call me Foxwolf?"

Gael sat silent, and Nagru answered his own question. "Because I am the only fox that ever slew a wolf. This is his hide I am wearing. I'll wager you've never even seen a wolf, much less had to fight one. Well I did, and I won. Nobeast alive can stand against me!"

The Squirrelking ignored his captor, who continued boasting. "I'll tell you something else. That wolf's name

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was Urgan. So I took it and turned it backward and made a name for myself, Urgan Nagru! Try saying it both ways, it comes out the same. That's to let my enemies know that I can come at them backward or forward, both ways. But I have no enemies, they're all dead. Only fools and dreamers are left, like you and your Queen. It's your own fault, squirrel. You let me in here. Aha! I see you are glaring at me. Good! You are wishing that the Fox wolf were dead, eh? The wishes of the weak are like raindrops on the face of the sea; they count for nothing. Play on, Yoghul!"

While Nagru drank wine and tore at his meat, Silva-rnord had been staring fixedly at Muta, the old badger nurse. Muta could not speak. Sometimes in peaks of joy or distress she would make hoarse barking noises, but it was unusual for her to make any sound at all. She crouched at little Truffen's side, always faithful to him. It irritated Silvamord to see the dumb badger's devotion to her small charge, and the vixen never missed an opportunity to humiliate or torment Muta. Calling Yoghul across to her, Silvamord divested him of his cloak, a small red thing trimmed with yellow. Then she snatched the cap from his head. It was floppy and conical with two tiny bells hanging from it. Flinging both hat and cloak at Muta, Silvamord called out derisively, ' 'Come on, up on your paws, stripedog. Put those on and do a dance for me. I command it, dance!"

The big badger did not move. She stood glaring at the vixen. Silvamord beckoned Riveneye, one of the Captains seated nearby. "If that stupid beast doesn't start dancing right now," she barked, "I want you to take your sword to the squirrel brat and tickle a dance out of him!"

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Riveneye stood and drew his sword.

Muta had no choice. Rather than see Truffen hurt, she donned the small cloak and tied the ribbons of the ridiculous little hat beneath her chin. Slowly she commenced a shuffling dance.

Silvamord aimed a kick at the minstrel rat. "Play, YoghulЧplay faster. I want to see the big fool dance!"

Around and around Muta shambled, trying to keep up with the speed of the music, the bells tinkling wildly on her silly hat. Silvamord and the rats jeered cruelly at the badger's stumbling efforts. A single teardrop spilled down Muta's face.

Queen Serena turned away, unable to watch the cruel exhibition. Gael leaned in close as if sharing her sympathy and began whispering so only she could hear. "It's all right, Serena. Don't worry. Listen to me and try not to show any surprise. Remember our singing blackbird, Relph? Rab has sent me a message through him. There will be otters waiting in the castle moat today. We will accompany Muta when she takes Truffen for his afternoon nap. Relph will hang a red cloth on the window nearest the drawbridge to tell Rab we are coming. When we leave here, watch for the window with the red cloth on the sillЧthat's the one we jump from. When we land in the moat, the otters will take us to safety. Don't look around; just nod if you understand. .." Muta's hoarse bark caused the Queen to turn.

Truffen could not understand that Muta was being made fun ofЧthey had often played at dancing together. Seeing her dance now made the little fellow chuckle happily. It was a game! He began hop-skipping alongside her,

BRIAN JACQUES

The BeUmofcer