"Brotherhood Of The Sword - 04 - A Dark Champion" - читать интересную книгу автора (MacGregor Kinley)

taunt me on that front. Until then, I know you for the coward you are as well."
Christian's eyes danced with mischief. "Women do make cowards of us all."
Kit opened his mouth to say something, then must have rethought it. Grabbing a
shield, he headed for the door. "If I don't return by night's fall, please make
sure I am buried on home soil."
Stryder shook his head at his brother's play, but then again
Nay. None of the women would really hurt Kit.
As soon as they were alone, Stryder washed his face and chest in the wash basin,
then toweled himself dry.
"How is it after all we have been through together that I never even knew you
had a brother?" Christian asked as Stryder draped the towel over his shoulder
and moved forward to pour himself a goblet of wine.
Stryder squelched the pain that innocent question conjured. Though he had shared
much of his life with Christian, there were many things he had not shared with
anyone. Things he would never share with anyone. "We are half brothers who grew
up apart."
"Ah," Christian said as he watched his friend take a seat across from him.
Stryder looked tired. His blue eyes were troubled, but then Stryder had never
been light of heart. His friend, much like him, had always been overly earnest.
Simon of Ravenswood used to refer to them as the Doomsday Duo. But then they had
all seen far too much of the darker side of man's cruelty.
It had a way of robbing them of their optimism.
"Have you seen the Scot lately?" Stryder asked.
"It will be a year ago September."
"How does he?"
Christian sighed as he remembered their companion who had chosen to hide himself
in the country of England as opposed to going home to his family in Scotland.
"Same as before. He is reclusive and refuses to let any see his face. He barely
spoke to me while I was there."
Stryder looked away, his brow even more troubled. Christian knew he blamed
himself for what had happened to the Scot during their captivity. "It wasn't
your fault."
Christian referred to the incident when one of their group had tried to escape.
Barely ten-and-six in age, the boy's escape route had been discovered before any
of them had had a chance to use it.
When the Saracens came for one of them to punish for it, the Scot had stepped
forward to take the blame, knowing the one responsible would never have survived
the punishment.
Their captors had tortured the Scot for a full fortnight. When he was returned
to their cell, his eye had been taken and the man had been left horribly
scarred.
The Scot had never been the same, and Stryder blamed himself to this day for not
taking the blame himself.
"You can't carry the ills for the entire world, Stryder. Some things are just
meant to be."
Stryder took a deep draught of wine, but said nothing.
He didn't have to. The two of them had known each other so long that Christian
knew what was on his mind.
What they did was hard and never ending. They had more commitments than they
could meet and both of them felt responsible for every member of their guard.