"Andrew J. Offutt - Cormac 02 - The Tower of Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Offutt Andrew J)

her belly into the trough in a way that slammed teeth together and rattled spines. Men got desperately to
work, bailing.
тАЬWulfhere,тАЭ Cormac said, тАЬItтАЩs too heavy we be. ManтАФthe wine must go.тАЭ
тАЬWHAT?тАЭ
тАЬThe wine,тАЭ the Gael repeated. тАЬIt must go.тАЭ
The big DaneтАЩs dismay very nearly equalled AthanagildтАЩs. CormacтАЩs cold voice cut through his expostulations,
his protests and all loud anguish. They were wallowing like hogs in muck, and less happily by far. The
Visigoths were having their sorrows, but soon theyтАЩd be so close that even their bowmen could not continue
to missтАФunless the reivers lightened ship. At the same time theyтАЩd be littering the sea with the menace of
bobbing massive casks to trouble pursuit. TheyтАЩd float, though not high; immediately below the surface, most
likely. It had to be done.
Wulfhere turned away. Cormac cursed hotly; the Skull-splitterтАЩs strength was needed for the work, and he
chose to mope!
The Gael called Hrut Bearslayer to him. The silent carl, not quite right in the head from a sword-cut thereon,
was the one man of the crew whose bulk and strength equalled WulfhereтАЩs. He was single-mindedly loyal to
Cormac besides. Word was passed along. The oar-men, working in pairs, unlashed the casks and tipped
them over the side. Cormac and Hrut between them disposed of the three in the stem. They rolled and
tumbled away behind.
Cormac, watching, saw one shatter on the biremeтАЩs ram, and another, lifted by the swell, slam and break on
the craftтАЩs carvel-built side. Planks were sprung. The sea was abruptly sweetened and darkened, while some
lookout cried a warning at the GothтАЩs masthead... and mac Art was satisfied.
The more so for RavenтАЩs now riding the waves lightly as a bird.
The water remained savage, but the crew was used to dirty weather. They were often out in it by choice, as
naught made better concealmentтАФand the weather itself was now fair enough, save for this gusty,
unpredictable wind. The bireme, carrying a hundred weapon-men who did not row, and all their gear, fell
behind. Raven was away and at large.
Erelong, the Gael went forward to where Wulfhere gloomed at the waves like a man-shaped thundercloud.
Cormac shook his head in exasperation, and set a hand on his friendтАЩs burly shoulder.
тАЬAh, Splitter of skulls... the world has not ended! ItтАЩs the best of the plunder we have yet, and tonight will see
us in Nantes, guesting at the merchantтАЩs table. Ye ken well he has a cellar the gods in Tir-nan-Og might
envy, and that even your vast self cannot drink dry. Not to be mentioning his daughter, and there isnтАЩt a feater
bawd on these coasts.тАЭ
тАЬCormac,тАЭ Wulfhere said, not turning.
The Gael sighed, and shrugged, and left him to mourn. The ship must be looked after, even if the great
souseтАЩs heart was breaking. The mast must needs be stepped again, here on the choppy sea, and sail
raised. Was a task fit for the chastisement of Loki, and enough to make him, were he present, wish to be
back in his dry comfortable cave with the vipers. Then they might ship oars and beat northward under
canvas.
They left the sea reddened in their wake, with blood and richest wine.


CHAPTER TWO: Two Pirates, A Trap, and Clodia

As Burdigala to the Garonne, was the city of Nantes to the Loire. And, blessedly, it was part of a different
realm. Philip the Syrian had called it тАЬthe Roman Kingdom,тАЭ and with cause.
Its ruler was Roman by birth, education and loyalty. Master of Soldiers heтАЩd been; his title now was Consul of
the Empire, bestowed on him by the Emperor Zeno, who sat in Constantinople and had nothing that mattered
to do with him. In law he was an official, representing Zeno. In practice he was independent, and the
barbarians who had overrun the rest of Gaul were nothing if not practical. They thought of him as a king, and
called him a kingтАФRex Romanorum.