"Brian Jacques - Redwall 02 - Mossflower" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jacques Brian)

Late autumn winds sighed fitfully around the open gatehouse door, rustling
brown gold leaves in the fading afternoon.

Bella of Brockhall snuggled deeper into her old armchair by the fire. Through
half-closed eyes she watched the small mouse peering around the doorway at
her.

"Come in, little one, and close the door."

The small mouse did as he was bidden. Encouraged by the badger's friendly
smile, he clambered up onto the arm of the chair and settled himself against a
cushion.

"You said that you would tell me a story, Miz Bella."

The badger nodded slowly.

"Everything you see about you, the harvest that has been gathered, from the
russet apples to the golden honey, is yours to enjoy in freedom. Listen now,
as the breeze sweeps the last autumn leaves off into the world of winter. I
will tell you of the time long ago before Redwall Abbey was built in
Mossflower. In those days there was no freedom for wood-landers; we were
oppressed cruelly under the harsh rule of Verdauga Greeneyes and his daughter
Tsarmina. It was a mouse like yourself who saved Mossflower. His name is known
to all: Martin the Warrior.

"Ah, my little friend, I am grown old. So are my comrades; their sons and
daughters are fathers and mothers now. But that is life. The seasons still
look new to young eyes, the food tastes fresher in the mouths of the young
ones than it does in my own. As I sit here in the warmth and peace it all
lives again in my memory, a strange tale of love and war, friend and foe,
great happenings and mighty deeds.

"Gaze into the fire, young one. Listen to me and I will tell you the story.''

BOOK ONE

Kotir

Mossflower lay deep in the grip of midwinter beneath a sky of leaden gray that
showed tinges of scarlet and orange on the horizon. A cold mantle of snow
draped the landscape, covering the flatlands to the west. Snow was everywhere,
filling ditches, drifting high against hedgerows, making paths invisible,
smoothing the contours of earth in its white embrace. The gaunt, leafless
ceiling of Mossflower Wood was penetrated by constant snowfall, which carpeted
the sprawling woodland floor, building canopies on evergreen shrubs and
bushes. Winter had muted the earth; the muffled stillness was broken only by a
traveler's paws.

A sturdily built young mouse with quick dark eyes was moving confidently