"John Morressy - The Juggler" - читать интересную книгу автора (Morressy John)

ashes. The wolves and carrion eaters would quickly learn of the waiting feast, and a helpless boy would
be as welcome a morsel as the dead. Sir Morier might not return for a long time, perhaps not at all. Beran
had no choice. His world was now the world that lay beyond, and to reach it he must brave the forest
alone.
He wandered in its depths for days, living off berries and nuts and fish from the brooks when his small
store was gone. At first his heart jumped at every noise. He started awake in terror a hundred times on his
first night. But by the end of the third day his fear had diminished. The noises did him no harm, and he saw
nothing but small, harmless creatures scurrying out of his way, as afraid of him as he had been of unseen
sounds. He awoke every morning cold and stiff and hungry, but the sun soon warmed him, and he always
found something to eat, though never enough to sat-isfy the emptiness that growled and gnawed like a
trapped beast in his belly.
After eight days he came to the edge of the forest. Before him, beyond the cleared ground, was the
road. Here the world began.
He watched as a pair of riders went westward at a brisk gallop, and not long after, a small band of men
and women passed to the east on foot. For a long time he saw no one, and then a cart heaped with corn
came into view moving slowly from the west. A tall, bearded man bearing a staff led the single horse. He
went watchfully, continuously glancing from one side of the road to the other.
Beran swallowed his fear and raced from the forest. As he neared the wagon, the man turned and they
caught sight of each other.
"Bread! Please, master, a bit of bread!" Beran cried.
The man raised his staff to bar closer approach. Be-ran stopped and sank to his hands and knees,
panting.
"Who are you, boy? Where do you come from?" the man called to him.
"I've been lost in the forest. Please, master, I'm hungry!"
"Where's your village?"
"Back there," Beran said, gesturing to the forest. "It's gone. Raiders came. Everyone's dead."
The man shaded his eyes with one hand and sur-veyed the clearing on both sides. After a careful study,
he beckoned to Beran and said, "Come on, boy. I can spare you a bit of food. Hurry along, we must keep
moving."
The man, whose name was Alan, provided Beran with a thick slice of bread and a slab of cheese, and
gave him ale from a jug. As they went on, he heard the boy's story, shaking his head often and muttering,
"Terrible, terrible," very softly, but he said nothing more.
Beran traveled with Alan for two days, helping wherever he could, though there was little for him to do
but walk behind the wagon and see that nothing was lost. Alan remained silent most of the time, never
smiling. He responded to Beran's questions and obser-vations with a word or two. On the second evening,
without preamble of any kind, Alan said, "I know some people who lost a son last year. They could use a
good lad to help them."
Beran was excited at first and shouted his gratitude aloud. Here was a chance to be part of a village
again, to have a home, a family, and a master. No longer would he wander alone, like a wolf; he would
have a fixed place in the world. For a time he could think of nothing else and was eager to meet these
people and take up his new life.
That evening, when they had eaten, he decided to repay Alan's generosity in the only way he could, by
juggling for him. But no sooner had he begun than the man slapped the wooden balls aside and seized his
arm roughly. He said, "What's this foolishness, boy? Throw away those wicked toys. There's no place for
clowns and jugglers among honest people."
Beran pulled free and picked up the balls that lay in the dust. He was hurt and confused by the rebuke.
"The people in my old village liked it," he said. "They'd do my work for me if I juggled for them."
"Then they were as silly as you are. There'll be no one in your new village to do your work while you
play."
As he lay under the wagon that night, Beran thought of life in his new village. It sounded like a joyless