"Katherine Kerr - Deverry 06 - A Time Of Omens" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kerr Katherine)

тАЬYe gods, you look like youтАЩve bitten into a Bardek citron!тАЭ Aethan said. тАЬWhatтАЩs making you so sour?тАЭ

тАЬWhatтАЩs it to you? Go bugger a mule!тАЭ

тАЬBr-bran, heтАЩs right,тАЭ Maryn stammered. тАЬSomewhatтАЩs aching your heart.тАЭ

Since he couldnтАЩt bring himself to insult the young king, Branoic merely shrugged, wishing that he did
indeed know what was bothering him so badly. Maryn thought for a minute, his eyebrows furrowing as
he struggled to pick words.

тАЬLeave it and him be, lad.тАЭ Aethan forestalled him. тАЬI donтАЩt take any offense. Branno, lookтАФitтАЩs this
cursed foul journey, never knowing if thereтАЩs an ambuscade behind every bush or suchlike. I feel like IтАЩve
got brigga full of burrs myself.тАЭ

тАЬWell, my apologies. You were right enough about me being sour. I wish we could travel faster.тАЭ

тАЬWe will, we will. If I understand rightly, this stream widens into a proper river a few miles from here.тАЭ

Although Aethan was right about the stream widening, it was nearly sunset before they reached water
that was significantly faster-flowing. That night Caradoc posted a double ring of guards round the camp,
and in the morning when they rode out, he sent point-men far ahead of them on both sides of the stream
and rotating squads of ten men apiece on rear guard and in the van. Over the next three days, as they
inched their way south, going from stream to stream and sheltering stand of trees to concealing thicket,
caution became routine. With every prudent delay, even if it was only a brief wait to change point-men,
BranoicтАЩs bad tenper swelled like the black clouds of a summer storm.

That Owaen decided to harass him helped not at all. Maybe the lieutenant just needed something to pass
the time, but it seemed to Branoic that every time he turned round Owaen was there to point out that his
gear wasnтАЩt properly polished or his horse well enough groomed, that he slouched too much in the saddle
or else sat too straight, that he looked sour as weasel piss or told too many stupid jokes. Since he was
determined to win himself a silver dagger, Branoic gritted his teeth and said nothing to anyone. The last
thing he wanted was to be known as a whiner. On the fourth night, when they were setting up camp in a
bend of the river, Branoic went over to one of the barges to draw provisions and came across Owaen
talking to Maddyn. Since OwaenтАЩs back was to him, and a lot of men were bustling around, the
lieutenant never heard Branoic come up behind him.

тАЬIтАЩm not badgering him, curse you! HeтАЩs just not measuring up,тАЭ Owaen snapped. тАЬWhatтАЩs our little
Branno been doing, running sniveling to you and saying IтАЩve been persecuting him or suchlike?тАЭ

Branoic grabbed him by the shoulder, hauled him round, and punched him under the chin as hard as he
could, all in one smooth motion. Owaen quite literally left his feet and flipped back to fall like a
half-empty sack of grain into the grass. Swearing under his breath Maddyn ran over and knelt down
beside him just as the captain came rushing up and half a dozen silver daggers crowded round to see the
show. Branoic stood there rubbing his smarting knuckles and wanting to die or perhaps turn to air and
drift away. He was sure that he was going to be flogged at best and turned out of the troop to starve at
worst. When he felt someoneтАЩs hand on his shoulder he spun round to find Nevyn, and much to his utter
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