"Mithgar - Hel's Crucible - 02 - Into The Fire" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKiernan Dennis L)

After a moment, Beau looked at Tip and said, "You know, we don't have solemn rites."

Tip frowned. "Who, Beau? Who doesn't have solemn rites?"

"Warrows, Tip. Warrows of the Boskydells, that is. I mean, although we note Summerday, Winterday, Spring-day, and Autumnday, they're all happy affairs, the best being Summerday."

"Oh?"

Beau nodded enthusiastically. "Oh my, yes. Look, Tip, you weren't raised in the Bosky, but on Summerday, Year's Long Day, Mid-Year's Day, there's a fair in Rood, and parades, and contests. And that's the day, Year's Long Day, when we hold a birthday celebration for anyone who's had a birthday in the past year, which of course includes everyone. ЧOh my, I just thought of something."

Tip raised an eyebrow.

"We didn't celebrate our birthdays on Year's Long Day," said Beau.

"Hmph," grunted Tip. "It seems to me that on Year's Long Day we were hiking across Valon in the night with Hyrinians and Chabbains all about trying to do us in, Beau."

"Pah," said Beau, frowning, "be that as it may, still we should have celebrated. In fact, we should celebrate our birthdays right now."

"But, Beau, it isn't Year's Long Day, but Year's Short Day instead," protested Tip. "We'll be six months late or six months early, depending on how you want to look at it."

"Well, late or early, Tip, what better day for Warrows to celebrate? A short day for a short folk, eh?"Beau turned to Phais, who was grinning behind her hand. I say Phais, have we any of that venison? ЧAnd tea? Yes, tea We must have a birthday tea, with mian if we yet have some, or crue if not. And, Tip, you must play your lute: 'The Merry Man of Boskledee' will do just fine. It's a good birthday song."

"Let's wait for Bekki," said Tipperton, glancing up at the crest of the hill. But Bekki wasn't there. Instead the Dwarf came flying downslope. "What thЧ? Bekki!"

Loric looked up and sprang to his feet. "Quench the fire," he hissed, his hand on the grip of his sword. "Be ready to fly."

As Beau kicked the campfire into the snow, Loric and Phais stepped to the horses and began casting on saddle blankets, Tipperton doing likewise to the ponies.

"A band," huffed Bekki, as he came into the site.

"Band?" asked Beau, catching up his saddle and stepping to his pony.

"Aye. To the south along the road. Tramping this way. Squam, I think."

"How many?" asked Phais, cinching a saddle tight.

"Too many," gritted Bekki, lifting his own saddle into place. "A hundred or so."

"Does it have to be Rucks and such?" asked Beau, reaching under his pony for the belly strap dangling down opposite. "I mean, couldn't it be Daelsmen?"

"Mayhap," replied Bekki. "Though were it Loden's men, I would expect them to be riding and not on foot."

"We are well off the road," said Tip, threading cinch strap through binding rings.

"Even so . . ." said Phais, now turning toward one of the packhorses.

Quickly all was ready for flight, and Bekki growled, "I would keep them in sight."

Phais nodded. "Let us ride to the far side of the knoll, and then go afoot to the top."