"Andrew J. Offutt - Cormac 01 - The Mists of Doom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Offutt Andrew J)

тАЬThanks to me! Was yourself attacked the monster, Cormac! Be ye hurt?тАЭ
тАЬUhтАФтАЭ The youth swelled his torso in a brace of deep breaths that brought winces on him. тАЬHurts a little... itтАЩs
terrible pain IтАЩd be feeling an my ribs or back were broke or cracked, would I not?тАЭ
In the aftermath of the attack and the prodigious fight, MidhirтАЩs chuckle emerged as a giggle uncomplimentary
to himself. тАЬAye, lad,тАЭ he said, clapping the youth high on the back. Leaving that hand there, he looked at
Roich. тАЬRoich?тАЭ
тАЬBruises. Naught more. First the waggon caught me, then Cormac fell on meтАФsmall wonder ye prevailed, son
of Art: methinks ye outweigh yon beast!тАЭ Roich was feeling over himself with hands that visibly quivered.
тАЬHeтАФ CromтАЩs beard! My coat is torn! Torn, as if тАЩtwere naught but linen, this stout coat of leather!тАЭ
тАЬAye, and so is the arm beneath, the druid said. тАЬCome ye back to the fire and let me see to it, mac
Lurchain. CormacтАФitтАЩs sure ye be thereтАЩs no hurt on ye? Let me have look at your back.тАЭ
тАЬNo need,тАЭ Midhir said. тАЬIтАЩve seen men slashed to the bone, but in the heat of combat they never noticed. But
our Bear-slayerтАЩs all right, Druid. A triumph of the skill and steel of Taig the Armourer!тАЭ
тАЬAnd CormacтАЩs steel ribs,тАЭ grinned Roich, speaking a bit loudly now the danger was past; his hands still
shook. тАЬMuch thanks I owe ye, Cormac mac Art!тАЭ
тАЬMorelike your worthless life youтАЩre owing to him,тАЭ Midhir said. His hand on the youthтАЩs back propelled him to
the fire on legs suddenly gone all aquiver.
The men moved back to their blaze, the youngest among them fair creaking from the crushing bearish
embrace heтАЩd endured. With herbs from his pouch Edar treated RoichтАЩs upper arm, and the druid insisted too
on seeing to the few scratches on CormacтАЩs hand; the hero had not noticed them.
The while, Roich and Bran were stintless in their praise of the bear-fighting youth or New-man. Was praise
from Midhir that swelled the bearslayerтАЩs boyish chest, though; this was the man most trusted by CormacтАЩs
father, who called him even Arbenn, chieftain, and not in jest. And it was FinnтАЩs son Midhir too who was most
responsible for the training at arms of his lordтАЩs son, as it was Sualtim the Druid who had trained the youthтАЩs
brain.
тАЬItтАЩs truly a man ye are, son of Art,тАЭ Midhir said very seriously. He was carving their neglected dinner, now
overly charred on one side. тАЬYour slaying of those Picts on that day of shield-splitting and now this deed are
the sort that birth legends, and itтАЩs sure that yeтАЩve caught the eye of ConnachtтАЩs good king. Cormac mac Art:
Bearslayer!тАЭ
тАЬAnd mayhap the High-king as well,тАЭ Bran said excitedly.
тАЬThe day will surely come,тАЭ Midhir said on, тАЬwhen yeтАЩll serve our lord king directly, and him with gratitude on
him for it, and... peradventure, Cormac, weapon-man, itтАЩs yourself whoтАЩll be winning for Connacht the
Championship of Eirrin, even at the Great Fair!тАЭ
тАЬAye, weapon-comrade!тАЭ Roich cried.
Cormac said naught, keeping his eyes down while he bathed in the good rich oil of praise.
тАЬWere best not to be attracting the eye of the Ard-righ,тАЭ Edar said quietly. тАЬIt is known that men have died,
aye and with mystery on it, once theyтАЩve caught the ever-roving eye of poor King Lugaid. For our High-king
ever sees enemies alurk all about him, and snakes under his very bed.тАЭ
тАЬSnakes!тАЭ Bran cried.
And laughed, and so did the others laugh with mirth upon them.
For all knew that their fair land of green meadows and swirly mist and high blue-misted mountains possessed
no slithering reptiles. Nor had it ever.
тАЬAye, and if told there be no snakes in all Eirrin,тАЭ Roich said with high exuberance, тАЬour High-king would
surely be convinced тАШtwas a lie, and set a watch over him who told it!тАЭ
тАЬNay, nay, for his own wife would assure him was Padraigh drove all those doubtless-millions of creepy
reptiles from our land, belike with that pointed stave he carried!тАЭ
And they laughed anew.
Edar was more serious still. тАЬAll that Padraigh brought us is a plague of serpents in human form, men who
slither about the fens and meadows of Crom and Lugh and Behl in robes of black, seeking to win all to the
worship of the gibbet of dying Rome!тАЭ