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

and act cruelly. One early lesson nearly cost him his life. He found that it was dangerous, and might be
fatal, for a small boy with no protector to show a silver coin. Even a grown man, well armed and among
friends, was a fool to boast of a full purse.
After that first narrow escape, Reran kept his small hoard concealed, but the memory preyed on his
mind. He began to suspect that every stranger he encountered knew of his wealth and was determined to
take it from him. He was slight and wiry and not very strong; his only defense was flight. He was uneasy by day,
when he was plainly visible to everyone, and anxious by night, when every shadow might conceal an enemy.
His sleep was fitful. He was reluctant to go among strangers, yet aware of the perils of traveling alone.
The little purse of coins and the ring weighed upon him like shackles. He was loath to cache them away,
but knew no one to whom he could entrust them.
He finally resolved his problem at one impulsive stroke. He had been given shelter for the night in the
guest house of a monastery and treated with kindness by an aged monk. After a simple supper, before he
 lay down to sleep, he asked to speak with the prior, saying that he had a gift. He laid his treasure before
the prior, a thin, pale man with one clouded eye. The prior fixed his good eye on Beran and scrutinized him
closely. Beran appeared an unlikely benefactor. Ragged and dirty, a boy traveling alone, he was far more
likely to be a thief disposing of his plunder before he could be caught.
Beran told a story close to the truth: He explained that the gold and silver were his brother's, won in the
service of the king, and the ring was the gift of a great lord for bravery in battle. His brother had solemnly
instructed him, should anything befall their parents, to give all to the monks so that prayers and masses
might be said for their souls. The prior questioned him on several details. When he was satisfied by the
boy's story, he accepted the gift gratefully.
"You have done a holy and a blessed thing. Your brother is a loving son, and so are you," said the prior.
"How did your parents die?"
"Our village was raided. They were slain."
"And what is to become of you? Is there no one to take you in?"
"Everyone in the village is dead."
"You are young to be alone. We might find a place for you here."
Beran had no wish to stay with the monks. They were kindly men, but their way of life was too austere
for his liking. He preferred the road. Dangerous though it might be, it was never dull.
By this time he had learned to lie convincingly. "You are generous, Father, but I must go to my brother,
in the Holy Land."
"A long and perilous journey for one so young. But it is a blessed undertaking. May God be with you."
"Thank you, Father."
The prior did not speak for a time, and Beran waited patiently for his dismissal. But then the prior said
abruptly, as if he had come to a decision, "A company of pilgrims leave us in the morning. They are not
bound for the Holy Land, but you can travel south with them until your ways part, and then join another
band. I will ask them to take you. You would be safer among them."
Pilgrims could be even stricter in their behavior than the monks, but Beran saw no point in refusing the
offer. This group might turn out to be good companions, well supplied with food. In any event, he could
travel in their company until he found better. He left the next morning with eight pilgrims on their way to
the shrine of Saint James at Compostela. The pilgrims went on foot, each man carrying a staff, with a
leather scrip tied at his waist. All wore the simple tunic of the pilgrim, marked with the cross. Even though
the air was cold enough to show their breath and patches of snow still lay in shaded places off the road,
three of them walked barefoot.
Their leader was a tall, broad-shouldered man with grizzled hair and a pale scar down one cheek. His name
was Julian, and he was a knight. He was the most talkative one of the group. At the prior's urging, he had
taken Beran in charge, and before they had passed out of sight of the monastery, he and the boy were
talking freely. Beran gave a fairly accurate version of his story, and Julian responded by telling something of
himself. "I was steeped in the ways of the world and its deceits," he told Beran as they walked. "War and
hunt-ing and revelry and violence, greed and pride and worse things were my pleasures. For the poor and