"Brian Jacques - Redwall 06 - Martin The Warrior" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jacques Brian)

the fortress fully built and established. Only then could he rule completely,
burning and killing his way in all directions until he was absolute ruler of
all he surveyed. Tyrant! Badrang loved the sound of the word.... Tyrant!

BOOK ONE

The Prisoner and the Tyrant

He was only a young mouse, but of strong build, with a glint in his eye that
proclaimed him a born fighter. A creature of few words who never chattered
needlessly. The early summer sun of the Eastern Coast beat down pitilessly on
his unprotected head as he carried and stacked chunks of rock beside the
masons who would shape it into blocks that would enlarge Fort Marshank.

A weasel Captain named Risk swaggered up/ cracking his long whip
threateningly, looking for an excuse to cut loose on the slaves who toiled in
the dusty heat around him. His eye settled on the young mouse.

"You there, liven yourself up! Come on, stir yer stumps. Lord Badrang will be
round for an inspection soon. Get movin' or y'll taste my whip!"

The mouse dropped the rock he was carrying and stood staring levelly at the
bullying weasel. Hisk cracked the lash viciously, the tip flicking the air a
fraction from his victim's face. The young mouse did not move. His eyes hooded
over as he stood in silent defiance.

The weasel Captain drew the lash back to strike, but the bold, angry eyes of
the young slave seemed to challenge him. Like all bullies, the weasel was a
coward at heart. Averting his gaze from the piercing stare, Hisk

11

snapped his whip in the direction of some more timid

creatures.

"C'mon, you worthless idlers, no work, no food. Move your carcasses. 'Ere
comes Lord Badrang!"

Flanked by his aides, Gurrad the rat and Skalrag the fox, Badrang the Tyrant
strode imperiously onto the site. He waited while two hedgehogs hurriedly
built him a makeshift seat from stone blocks. Skalrag swiftly covered it with
a velvet cloak. Badrang sat, gazing at the work going on around him.

The stoat Lord addressed Hisk: "Will my fortress be finished before summer is
out?"

Hisk waved his coiled whip about at the slaves. "Lord, if the weather was
cooler an' we 'ad more creatures..."