"Karl Glogaver - 02 - Breakfast In The Ruins" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moorcock Michael)

her duty." A sigh. "But what's the point?" Karl realized that she was not
trying to comfort him at all, but herself. Even the automatic stroking of his
hair was done in an effort to calm herself. There was no real sympathy in the
gesture. For some reason this knowledge made him feel deep sympathy for her.
It has not been easy, even when his father was alive, with no-one coming to buy
clothes in the shop just because they had a German-sounding name. And she had
protected him from the worst of the insults and beaten the boys who threw stones
at him.

He hugged her waist. "Have courage, mother," he whispered awkwardly.

She looked at him in astonishment. "Courage? What does it gain us?" She took
his hand. "Come. We'll find the soldiers."
Trotting beside her, Karl felt closer to her than he had ever felt, not because
she had shown affection for him but because he had been able to show affection
for her. Of late, he had begun to feel guilty, believing he might not love his
mother as much as a good son should.

The two of them entered the somewhat broader street that was Rue du Bac and here
was the source of the sounds they had heard. The Communards were being beaten
back by the well-trained Versailles troops. The Versaillese, having been so
roundly defeated by the Prussians, were avenging themselves on their
recalcitrant countrymen. Most of the Communards were armed with rifles on which
were fixed bayonets. They had run out of ammunition and were using the rifles
as spears. Most of them were dressed in ordinary clothes, but there was a
handful of National Guardsmen among them, in soiled pale blue uniforms. Karl
saw a torn red flag still flying somewhere. Many women were taking part in the
fighting. Karl saw one woman bayonet a wounded Versaillese who lay on the
ground. His mother pulled him away. She was trembling now. As they rounded a
bend in the Rue du Bac, they saw another barricade. Then there was an eruption
and a roar and the barricades flew apart. Through the dust and debris Karl saw
bodies flung in every direction. Some of the dead were children of his own age.
A terrifying wailing filled the street, a wailing which turned into a growl of
anger. The remaining Communards began to fire at the unseen enemy. Another
eruption and another roar and the remains of the barricade went down. For a
second there was silence. Then a woman rushed from a nearby house and screamed
something, hurling a burning bottle through an open window in her own cellar.
Karl saw that a house on the opposite side of the street was beginning to burn.
Why were the people setting fire to their own houses ?
Now through the smoke and the ruins came the Versaillese in their smart dark
blue and red uniforms. Their eyes were red and glaring, reflecting the flames.
They frightened Karl far more than the National Guardsmen. Behind them galloped
an officer on a black horse. He was screaming in the same high-pitched tone as
the woman. He was waving a saber. Karl's mother took a step towards the troops
and then hesitated. She turned and began to run in the other direction, Karl
running with her.

There were several shots and Karl noticed that bullets were striking the walls
of the houses. He knew at once that he and his mother were being fired at. He
grinned with excitement.