"Roads by Seabury Quinn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Quinn Seabury)

The blond-haired stranger watched them go, then swung
his cloak back from his shoulders. Beneath the cape he wore
from neck to knee a tunic of fine woolen stuff dyed brilliant
red and edged about the bottom with embroidery of gold. A
corselet of tanned bull-hide set with iron studs was buckled
round his torso; his feet were shod with buskins of soft
leather laced about his legs with rawhide thongs; from the
girdle at his waist on one side hung a double-bladed axe, on
the other a soft leather pouch that clinked with a metallic
sound each time he moved. Between his shoulders swung a
long two-handed sword with a wide well-tempered blade,
pointed and double-edged. He was brawny and wide-
shouldered, his hair was braided in two long fair plaits that fell
on either side of his face beneath his iron skullcap. Like his

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hair his beard was golden as the ripening wheat, and hung
well down upon his breastplate. Yet he was not old; the flaxen
beard was still too young to have felt shears, his lightly sun-
tanned skin was smooth and fair, his sea-blue eyes were clear
and youthful. He glanced up at the star-flecked heaven, then
drew the cloak about him.
"The Dragon marches low upon the skies," he muttered,
"'tis time I set forth on my journey if I would reach the
homeland ere the winter tempests howl again."
The road was thick with travelers, mostly peasants on
their way to market, for the day began with sunrise, and
bartering would start within an hour. Hucksters of every sort
of article, fanciful as well as necessary, pressed along the way,
tugging at halters, now entreating, now berating their pack
animals to greater speed. A patrol of soldiers passed and their
decurion raised his hand in greeting.
"Salve, Claudius! Art thou truly going back to that cold
land of thine? By Pluto, I am sorry that thou leavest us; many
is the silver penny I have won by betting on those fists of
thine, or on thy skill at swordplay!"
The Northman smiled amusedly. Though he had been
among the Romans since before his beard was sprouted, their
rendering of his simple Nordic name of Claus to Claudius had
never failed to rouse his laughter.
"Yea, Marcus, I am soothly gone this time. Five years
and more I have served Herod's whim, and in that time I've
learnt the art of war as few can know it. With sword and axe

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