"03 - The Sailor On The Sea of Fate" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moorcock Michael)

'Hail, the shore,' said the armoured man. His accent
was unknown to Elric, his tone was as casual as his manner.
Elric thought he smiled. 'What do you seek with us?'

'Aid,' said Elric. 'I am stranded here. My horse is dead.
I am lost.'

'Lost? Aha!' the man's voice echoed in the mist. 'Lost.
And you wish to come aboard?'

'I can pay a little. I can give my services in return for a
passage, either to your next port of call or to some land
close to the Young Kingdoms where maps are available so
that I could make my own way thereafter...'

'Well,' said the other slowly, 'there's work for a
swordsman.'

'I have a sword,' said Elric.

'I see it. A good, big battle-blade.'

'Then I can come aboard?'

'We must confer first. If you would be good enough to
wait a while..."

'Of course,' said Elric. He was nonplussed by the man's
manner but the prospect of warmth and food on board the
ship was cheering. He waited patiently until the blond-
bearded warrior came back to the rail.

'Your name, sir?' said the warrior.

'I am Elric of Melnibone.'

The warrior seemed to be consulting a parchment, run-
ning his finger down a list until he nodded, satisfied, and
put the list into his large-buckled belt.

'Well,' he said, 'there was some point in waiting here,
after all. I found it difficult to believe.'

'What was the dispute and why did you wait?'

'For you,' said the warrior, heaving a rope ladder over
the side so that its end fell into the sea. 'Will you board
now, Elric of Melnibone?'

2