"Stephen Lawhead - Celtic Crusades 02 - The Black Rood" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lawhead Stephen)

folly.
That night, however, I was more interested in what Torf might know, and
did not care to reveal my own thoughts, so I said, 'Godfrey was Baldwin's
brother, then.'
'He was, and a more courageous man I never met. A very lion on the
battlefield; no one could stand against him. Yet, when he was not slaying
the infidel, he was on his knees in prayer. For all he was a holy man.' Torf
paused, as if remembering the greatness of the man. Then he added,
'Godfrey was an ass.'
After what he'd said, this assessment surprised me. 'Why?' I asked.
Torf gummed some more bread, and then motioned for the bowl; he
drained the bowl noisily, put it aside, and lay back. 'Why?' He fixed me
with his mocking gaze. 'I suppose you are one of those who think Godfrey
a saint now.'
'I think nothing of the kind,' I assured him.
'He was a good enough man, maybe, but he was no saint,' Torf-Einar
declared sourly. 'The devil take me, I never saw a man make so many
bone-headed mistakes. One after another, and just that quick - as if he
feared he could not make them fast enough. Godfrey might have been a
sturdy soldier, but he had no brain for kingcraft. He proved that with the
Iron Lance.'
His use of that name brought me up short, as you can imagine. I tried to
hide my amazement, but he saw I knew, and said, 'Oh, aye - so your father
told you something after all did he?'
'He has told me a little,' I replied; although this was not strictly true.
Murdo never spoke about the Holy Lance at all. Again, the little I knew of
it came from the good abbot.
'Did he tell you how the great imbecile gave it right back to the emperor
the instant he got his hands on it?' Torf gave a cruel little laugh, which
ended in a gurgling cough.
'No,' I answered, 'my father never told me that.'
'He did! By Christ, I swear he did,' Torf chortled malevolently. 'Only
Godfrey could have thrown away something so priceless. The stupid fool.
It was his first act as ruler of Jerusalem, too. He got nothing in return for it
either, I can tell you.'
Torf then proceeded to tell me how, moments after accepting the throne of
Jerusalem, Godfrey had been deceived by the imperial envoy into agreeing
to give up the Holy Lance, which the crusaders had discovered in Antioch,
and with which the crusaders had conquered the odious Muhammedans. In
order to escape the ignominy of surrendering Christendom's most valued
possession, Jerusalem's new lord had hit upon the plan to send the sacred
relic to Pope Urban for safekeeping.
'It was either that or fight the emperor,' allowed Torf grudgingly, 'and we
were no match for the imperial troops. We would have been cut down to a
man. It would have been a slaughter. No one crosses blades with the
Immortals and lives to tell the tale.'
It seemed to me that Godfrey had been placed in an extremely tight
predicament by the Western Lords, and I said so. 'Pah!' spat Torf. 'The
Greeks are cunning fiends, and deception is mother's milk to them.
Godfrey should have known that he could never outwit a wily Greek with