"Juliet Marillier - Wolfskin 1 - Wolfskin" - читать интересную книгу автора (Marillier Juliet)

"So Niall and Brynjolf became the best of comrades, and on the way to the Jarl's court they shared many
adventures. And they swore an oath, an oath deep and solemn, for each scored his arm with a knife until
the blood ran forth, dripping on the earth, and they set their forearms together and swore on their mingled
blood that they would be as brothers from that day on. They vowed they would put this bond before all
other loyalties, to support one another, to stand against the other's enemies even until death. This oath
they swore in Thor's name, and the god smiled on them.

"The years passed. Brynjolf joined the Jarl's personal guard, and acquitted himself with great valor. Niall
learned to use the sword and the axe, but he was not cut out to be a warrior. In time, he discovered he
had a talent for making verses, and this pleased the Jarl mightily, for men of power love to hear the tales
of their own great deeds told in fine, clever words. So, remarkably, Niall became a skald, and told his
tales at gatherings of influential men, while his friend journeyed forth with the Jarl's fleet in spring and in
autumn, to raid along the coast of Friesland and Saxony. When Brynjolf returned, they would drink
together, and laugh, and tell their tales, and they would pledge their brotherhood anew, this time in strong
ale.

"One summer Brynjolf came home with shadowed eyes and gaunt features. Late one night he told Niall a
terrible story. While Brynjolf had been away, his family had perished in a hall-burning: father, mother,
sister, and young brothers. A dispute had festered over boundaries; this had grown to skirmishes, and
then to killing. Late one night, when all the household slept, the neighbor's men had surrounded the
longhouse of Brynjolf's father, and torched it. In the morning, walking among the blackened ruins of the
place, folk swore they could still hear screaming, though all were dead, even the babies. All this, while
Brynjolf himself was far away on the sea, not knowing. When he set foot on shore, they told him, and
saw his amiable face become a mask of hate.

"Niall could think of nothing to say.

" 'I will find the man who did this,' Brynjolf muttered, cold-eyed, 'and he will pay in kind. Such an evil
deed invites no less. He is far north in Frosta, and I am bound southward this summer, but he and his are
marked for death at my hand.'

"Niall nodded and said nothing, and before seven days had passed, his friend was off again on the Jarl's
business. Niall put the terrible tale in the back of his mind.

"It was a mild summer and the earth wore her loveliest gown. Flowers filled the meadows with soft color
and sweet perfume, crops grew thick and healthy, fruit ripened on the bushes. And Niall fell in love.
There were many visitors to the court: noblemen, dignitaries, emissaries from far countries, landowners
seeking favors. There was a man called Hrolf, who had come there to speak of trading matters, bringing
his daughter. Every evening, folk gathered in the hall, and in the firelight Niall told his tales and sang his
verses. The girl sat among the women of the household, and he thought her a shining pearl among plain
stones, a sweet dove among barnyard chickens. Her name was Thora, and Niall's heart was quite lost to
her snow-pale skin and flax-gold hair, her demure features and warm, blue eyes. As he sang, he knew
she watched him, and once or twice he caught a smile.

"Niall was in luck. He was shy, and Thora was shyer. But the Jarl favored his skald, and spoke to Hrolf
on Mall's behalf, and at length, her father agreed to consider the possibility of a marriage in a year or so
when the girl was sixteen. For now, it would not hurt the young man to wait. They might exchange gifts.
Next summer, Niall could visit them in the north. All things in good time.

"The lovers snatched moments together, for all the watchful care of Thora's keepers: kisses in shadowed