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

enow, and he couldnтАЩt babble his confession sufficiently fast. The priest broke the confidence of confessional
to gain favour with his bishop, Remigius of Reims... and in my turn I owe the bishop a favour, now. There is
always proof to be had when one knows where to look for it. The king was pleased... behold in me the new
customs assessor of Nantes!
тАЬMy name is Sigebert. It will be better known for this nightтАЩs workтАФa fortunate one for my future, eh? The new
broom sweeping briskly, as they say. One fat traitorous merchant and a trio of sea-pirates on the first night of
my office, all for torment! I judge your profession aright, do I not? Methinks I can even guess your names, or
two of them. The Count of Burdigala might pay well to have you handed across the Loire into his hands. My
king would approve the transaction, I am sure.тАЭ
Sigebert loved, Cormac noted, the sound of his own sweet voice. Aye, and in particular when it was
explaining how clever he was. Cormac despised the man, but he remained silent.
Sigebert raked the woman from hair to feet with sparkling eyes.
тАЬYou need not suffer, my dear,тАЭ he said politely. тАЬUnless of course youтАЩre of firm mind to join your father and
this low company youтАЩve fallen into, whither they are bound. Let me advise you: welcome me instead to
Nantes in appropriate fashion.тАЭ
Clodia shuddered. Her father, no doubt, would have pleaded for leniency, but he was too terror-stricken to find
his tongue. Such was never a fault of CormacтАЩs, and he felt that Sigebert had orated long enough.
тАЬBe not a fool, man,тАЭ he said. тАЬI suppose none of your soldiers is after having a Latin education? They do not
look it.тАЭ
тАЬThey apprehend not a word we are saying.тАЭ
тАЬAnd IтАЩd lay wagers that it is not by chance. Well, thenтАФtake ye NestorтАЩs private arrangements unto yourself,
as ye have his house and station. Accept our bond that we will deliver ye full accounting of all we... find,
asea, and a third share in the profits. They ought to suffice for such splitting, with the Nantes customs
assessor to pass us intelligence. And that ye may look better than him who preceded ye, to be sure, weтАЩd be
looting no Roman craft. In such wise itтАЩs happy and wealthy weтАЩll all be!тАЭ
Sigebert considered the swiftly sketched proposition. Watching, the Gael began to believe he had talked his
way out of this trap.
He knew SigebertтАЩs kind. There were Franks in some numbers at the court of Soissons; their kingdom lay to
the east, where they had been settled as federates of the Empire. The polite fiction was that they were still its
subjects. Franks made up a large part of King SyagriusтАЩs army. Much rarer were polished courtiers like this
one, but they existed, wearing Latin speech and Latin education like their jewels, and Sigebert had seemingly
learned Latin calculation as well. It had not changed him.
Under costume and manners this Sigebert was Frankish to the marrow: treacherous, bloody and cruel.
Thus too had Clodia assessed him, with no difficulty. She knew men. When she thought of having to please
this one abed, and gave thought to what that might involve, claws of panic terror ripped at her mind. She could
not help shaking.
SigebertтАЩs gaze kept roving to her whilst he considered. He obviously enjoyed the outward signs of her fear.
He made up his mind.
тАЬNo. Wealth and happiness? They are more to be hoped for from my lord the king than a pair of foreign
reivers. Take them!тАЭ
Like fierce hounds unleashed, the soldiers bayed forward.
WulfhereтАЩs ax sprang aloft, light as a withe in a childтАЩs hands. The foremost Frank hurtled back again, breast
caved in, a scarlet ruin of a man. He fouled the legs of two of his mates. As one stumbled, he felt the cold
sliding intrusion of CormacтАЩs point in his throat. A short Frankish ax banged on the GaelтАЩs helmet, turning his
head. Fuzzy lights crossed CormacтАЩs vision. On a born sworderтАЩs instinct, and all the training and experience
that had been his portion since, he struck backhanded.
A drawing stroke with the edge it was, and it opened his assailantтАЩs side through leather and flesh to the
spine. Entrails bulged out like a host of escaping snakes, and steel grated on bone.
Clodia seized the momentтАЩs opportunity to hide the Egyptian sigil in her hospitable bosom.
Her father, less greedy or less calm in emergency, thought he saw an opening and barged for the doorway.