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

fools," Stryder of Blackmoor muttered as he made his way from the list toward
his tent.
There hadn't been a single man on the field he had sparred against who had posed
any contest to him at all. He might as well be fighting his brother Kit for all
the skill the so-called knights showed.
It was a damn shame when a man couldn't find a decent opponent.
Of course, there were four men present at the yearly tournament who could
challenge himhis own knights who traveled in his company: Raven, Will, Swan,
and Val. But at this hour of the day, the only thing they would be fighting off
was each other as they struggled to make it to the garderobe before their
excesses of last night undignified them.
The five of them had been too long abroad, and the temptation of the English
court and its decadence had been more than Stryder's men could deny. His four
knights had spent all of last evening carousing and drinking.
The first to vanish had been Will, who had supped with a rich, voluptuous widow.
After the meal and several tankards of mead, Will had discreetly made an exit
with his lady in tow. Raven had collapsed from drink in the hall just after
midnight, leaving Stryder and Swan to see him abed. Once they had the young man
safely in his cot, Swan had left to meet with his latest paramoura woman the
knight had known all of an hour.
And Val
Val had ended up in a drinking bout with several of the king's men. No doubt,
Val's head would hurt for a week or more given how much beer and ale the man had
consumed.
At half past three, Stryder had wished his friend well and sought his own bed.
He hadn't seen Val since.
When Stryder had gone to break his fast before practice this morn, the hall had
been clear of his men and none of them had been in their tents.
By now, surely they had risen from the dead and returned.
Then again, most likely not.
As Stryder left the practice list, he was mobbed by more than a score of maidens
seeking his favor. They varied greatly in age and size. But one thing united
them all.
Their desire to become the next countess of Blackmoor.
How he wished Simon of Ravenswood were here to help combat the shrill women who
lauded his virtues as they elbowed and pranced trying to gain his notice.
Even his brother, Kit, would be of help.
But as usual, Kit was nowhere to be seen. No doubt he was off composing sappy,
angst-filled songs with his mewling friends whose only thoughts were trivial and
asinine.
Stryder deflected that thought quickly lest it test his temper even more.
"Lord Stryder, please choose me as the Lady of All Hearts!" one young woman
screamed in his ear as she yanked at his black hair.
Stryder bit back a curse as he struggled to free himself of her demanding hand.
"Nay, I shall be the Lady, is that not correct, milord?"
Stryder couldn't answer due to other women shouting over him. The women each
grabbed hold of him and pulled at his surcoat and limbs while others were busy
ramming their tokens into his armor and helm.
Not to mention his chausses
"I got a lock of Lord Stryder's hair!" one woman screamed as she fainted.