"Robert Jordan - Conan The Indomitable" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jordan Robert)

the stone walls.

Conan finished his scan of the room just as a tall and spindly man whose face seemed buried within the
shroud of a gray beard approached. The innkeeper, no doubt.

"Ah, welcome, travelers. Would ye be desirin' food 'n' drink, then?"

Conan nodded. "Aye. And a room for the night."

Graybeard bobbed his head in an enthusiastic nod. "Done, done. Ye made it just in time, I warrant. "Tis
a howler startin' up out there." As if to punctuate his words, the wind whistled and blew a blast of snow
through one of the torn shades. Graybeard said, "Lalo, cover that hole!"

The thin blond man stood and moved to the window, where he began to repair the window cover with a
patch and string that he pulled from a pocket on his tunic. The man continued smiling all the while, and he
hummed a strange little tune as.he worked.

Conan and Elashi, meanwhile, moved to an empty table not far from the fire as Graybeard went to fetch
wine and whatever passed for supper.

The meal, as it turned out, was not altogether bad. The meat was mutton, somewhat greasy, but edible.
Hard brown bread accompanied the meat, and the wine was red and sharp but better than some that
Conan had tasted. Elashi produced a small knife from her belt and sliced the meat into strips; Conan
draped pieces of these over chunks of bread and washed them down with the wine. Certainly it bested
foraging along the trail for roots and ground squirrels, as they had been doing for several days.

Graybeard accepted half a dozen coppers for the meal and asked another four for the room. Conan
would have bargained but he was tired, and what did it matter anyway? The money had been his for only
a few hours; he had not grown particularly attached to it. He paid for the meal and room, causing a smile
to grow in the midst of Gray-beard's hairy visage.

Over his third cup of wine, Conan began to feel somewhat relaxed. The journey along the mountains had
been relatively uneventfulтАФsave for the inept banditsтАФbut even so, it had been a long walk. With food
and wine in his belly and shelter against the winter's rages, he felt most comfortable.

He should have known that meant trouble. Every time he felt at ease of late, something always seemed
to come along to spoil it.

"Watch it, fool!"

Conan looked up from his warm feeling, to see the straw-haired man, the one Graybeard had called
"Lalo," backing away from the table at which the two swordsmen sat. Apparently Lalo had jostled the
table in passing and the occupants had taken umbrage at his clumsiness. One of the swordsmen was
missing most of an ear. The other had a nose that had been broken more than once, and was decidedly
bent to one side.

"Sorry, m'lord," Lalo said.

Bent Nose half-stood. "Are you making sport of me, fool? Calling me lord?"