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

"I am so thirsty, mother," murmured Karl. The smoke and the dust filled his
mouth. She ignored him.

Here again the barricades were deserted, save for the dead, the victors and the
sightseers. Groups of Versaillese stood about, leaning on their rifles, smoking
and watching the fires, or chatting to the innocent citizens who were so anxious
to establish their hatred of the Communards. Karl saw a group of prisoners,
their hands bound with rope, sitting miserably in the road, guarded by the
regular soldiers. Whenever a Communard moved, he would receive a harsh blow
from a rifle butt or would be threatened by the bayonet. The red flag flew
nowhere. In the distance came the sound of cannon fire and rifle fire.

"At last!" Madame Glogauer began to move towards the troops. "We shall go home
soon, Karl. If they have not burned our house down."
Karl saw an empty wine bottle in the gutter. Perhaps they could fill it with
water from the river. He picked it up even as his mother dragged him forward.

"Mother - we could..."
She stopped. "What have you got there? Put the filthy thing down!"
"We could fill it with water."
"We'll drink soon enough. And eat."
She grabbed the bottle from his hand. "If we are to remain respectable,
Karl..."
She turned her head at a shout. A group of citizens were pointing at her.
Soldiers began to run towards them. Karl heard the word "petroleuse" repeated
several times. Ma-dame Glogauer shook her head and threw the bottle down. "It
is empty," she said quietly. They could not hear her. The soldiers stopped and
raised their rifles She stretched her hands towards them. "It was an empty
bottle!" she cried.

Karl tugged at her. "Mother!" He tried to take her hand, but it was still
stretched towards the soldiers. "They cannot understand you, mother."
She began to back away and then she ran. He tried to follow, but fell down.
She disappeared into a little alley. The soldiers ran past Karl and followed
her into the alley. The citizens ran after the soldiers. They were shrieking
with hysteria and bloodlust. Karl got up and ran behind them. There were some
shots and some screams. By the time Karl had entered the little street the
soldiers were coming back again, the citizens still standing looking at
something on the ground. Karl pushed his way through them. They cuffed him and
snarled at him and then they, too, turned away.

"The pigs use women and children to fight their battles," said one man. He
glared at Karl. "The sooner Paris is cleansed of such scum the better."
His mother lay sprawled on her face in the filth of the street. There was a
dark, wet patch on her back. Karl went up to her and, as he had suspected,
found that the patch was blood. She was still bleeding. He had never seen his
mother's blood before. He tried hard to turn her over, but he was too weak.
"Mother?" Suddenly her whole body heaved and she drew in a great dry breath.
Then she moaned.