"Brian Jacques - Redwall 08 - The Outcast Of Redwall" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jacques Brian)

Flames whirred and sparks showered as he battered burning wood everywhere. It
sizzled and steamed in the snow, throw-ing up choking clouds of smoke and wood
ash. Then the two friends were away, the young badger bounding through the
night forest, with Skarlath perched upon his shoulder. Bursting with the
energy of freedom, they traveled tirelessly, crashing through bush, briar, and
bramble in a welter of flying snow.

Back in the ruined camp, all was confusion, smoke, ashes, and freezing dark
night. A weasel called Muggra extricated himself from a snowdrift where the
badger's club had bowled him. Rubbing his aching back, he crawled over to
where an older vixen named Nightshade was ministering to Swartt, binding his
six-clawed paw with a poultice of herbs and snow. Muggra sneaked a pawful of
the herbs and nibbed them on his own back, asking, "Shall we follow them an'
slay 'em with arrows?' '

The vixen answered without looking up from her task. "Aye, best do it right
away, before they get too far."

Bad temperedly, Swartt made as if to raise his six-clawed paw and swipe out at
them both, but the movement caused him to snarl in agony; his paw hung limp
and throbbing. "Idiots! Get the fire goin', quick, before we freeze t'death in
the dark here," he spat. "Follow them? With me paw smashed an' ruined, an'
five slain, another five, maybe, wounded or injured? I give orders 'round
'ere, mudbrains, we follow 'em when I'm ready, an' not before!"

With lightning speed he shot out his good paw, and seizing the weasel Muggra
by the neck he pulled him close, his hot breath vaporizing on the weasel's
face as he hissed, "But when this paw's fixed an' I've rested by a good fire,
there'll be noplace that badger can hide from Swartt Sixclaw. I'll follow that
one to the edge of the world or to Hellgates, and he'll take a long time t'die
at the blade of my sword. I'll hunt him

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Brian Jacques

t'the death an' slay him bit by bit, if it takes me ten seasons!"

The vixen Nightshade continued binding Swartt's paw, fixing the herbs and snow
tight with mud from the earth where the fire had been and strips of aspen
bark. "If you leave it later man this night, it will take you a lifetime," she
said as she worked.

Swartt winced as the dressing tightened. "Shut yer slimy mouth, fox, always
seein' the future, or sayin' that y'do. I could fix your future with one swing
of me sword, that'd keep you quiet!"
Muggra was choking under Swartt's grip. The ferret looked at the weasel as if
just noticing him. "What're you doin' gur-glin' there. Didn't I tell y'to get
a fire goin'? Trattak! Hal-frump! Gerrout an' forage for dry timber! The rest
of you, get shot of those deadbeasts an' clear this place up!'' He flung the