"Christopher Rowley - Bazil 01 - Bazil Broketail" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rowley Christopher)

A fly crawled up her nose. With a squeal of horror she stopped and
brushed it away. The barrow tipped and fell on its side, cargo spilling over
the stones.

Lagdalen burst into tears as the accursed flies settled with victorious,
hot buzzing.

There was a triumphant peal of bright, merry laughter from her left.
She looked up, tears forgotten in sudden rage. A youth, a ragged
dragonboy, was visible at the door to the red brick Dragon House. He was
pointing at her and laughing.

She felt a flash of intense dislike and reached into the pocket of her
drab noviceтАЩs overalls, pulled out a slingshot, and let fly with one of the
round stones she always carried.

The boy vanished instantly, and the stone pinged off the wall and fell
back into the yard. Lagdalen ran over and retrieved it for another try.

When she looked up, though, it was to find the grim figure of Helena of
Roth looking on. Helena pointed a long white forefinger at her with
undisguised glee.

тАЬPossession of a weapon! Expressly forbidden! Use of a weapon against
another human! YouтАЩll be whipped! Not to mention that pile of excrement
youтАЩve dropped on Keeper SappinoтАЩs clean cobblestones. Wait till I tell him
what youтАЩve done. I should think that when FlaviaтАЩs through with you,
youтАЩll have accumulated another yearтАЩs worth of drudge!тАЭ

With a scarcely contained cry of triumph, Helena wheeled about and
marched off to find the yardkeeper, who habitually slept through
Fundament Day and all other festivals, relieved of all concern for his
polished cobbles on the parade ground.

Lagdalen looked back to the site of her disaster. Long before she could
shovel it back up and then sluice down the stones with water, Yardkeeper
Sappino would return, and when he saw what sheтАЩd done heтАЩd log an
immediate complaint with Flavia.
 Tears renewed themselves in the corners of her eyes. She seemed to be
doomed to stablework for the rest of her life.

She felt a nudge on her elbow. She turned, eyes blurry, and discovered
the dragonboy who had mocked her so recently, standing just a few feet
away.

He was no more than fourteen by the look of him, with a raffish air and
a cocksure grin. His dragonboy suit of brown broadcloth was old and
worn, his boots were scuffed, and he wore his cap backwards. He was also
carrying a couple of shovels.