"Katherine Kurtz - Knights Templar 01 - Temple and the Stone" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kurtz Katherine)

Arnault and Jay took their turns in the bucket brigade with the rest of those who were still on their feet,
working in relays in a ceaseless effort to keep the hold from filling with water, but Jay clearly was
unhappy with the arrangement.

"This is no fit occupation for a knight," he grumbled, as he and Arnault labored alongside the crew and
the military escort.

Arnault was fighting the temptation to inquire whether Jay would prefer the alternative, when there came
a sudden shout from the masthead lookout.

"Land ho! Land ahead, off the port bow!"

Abandoning their labors, the two Templar knights made their way forward. Peering hard through the rain
and sea spray, Arnault was just able to make out a rocky headland jutting from the waves at the
outermost limits of visibility. The deck shuddered underfoot as the ship came about, its prow bearing
hard on this newfound landmark. Catching sight of the captain on the forecastle, Arnault clambered
swiftly up the ladder to join him.

"Have you any idea where we are?" he asked, pitching his voice loud above the roar of the wind and
waves.

The captain gave a tentative bob of the head, not taking his eyes from that speck of land. "By my
reckoning, we've reached the Orkneys. I would guess this to be one of the outlying islands. There should
be settlements, if we can make it to shore."

The land loomed closer. A ragged cheer went up from the crew as the ship cleared the headland and the
fury of the storm somewhat abated, though rain continued to fall. Beyond, sheltered by a ridge of high
ground, lay a stretch of calmer water fronting a beach of pebbly shingle. Even more welcome was the
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sight of a plume of smoke trickling skyward from what appeared to be a substantial farmstead, perched
on the grassy slope overlooking the lagoon.

Details became clearer as they drew nearer the shore. Built Norse-fashion with walls of turf and roofs of
slate, the compound encompassed several barns and a number of outbuildings, all clustered around a
central dwelling, the source of the rising smoke, vented off by holes in the roof slates. Encouraged by
these clear signs of habitation, the captain drew as near to the shore as he dared before ordering the
anchor dropped and the ship's boat put over the side. While preparations were made to ferry the little
princess and the sickest of the other passengers ashore, a delegation was sent ahead to commandeer
assistance from the farm.

By the time the boat could return to the ship and bring the little princess and the bishop ashore, the farm
owner and some of his household had gathered on the shore with oilskins and warm blankets and even a
cart for those too ill to walk the short distance to the farmhouse. The little Maid herself was swaddled in
furs and tenderly carried to the farmhouse by the bishop's canon, with Bishop Narve trailing anxiously
beside them.