"Mary A. Turzillo - Ben Cruachan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Turzillo Mary A)BEN CRUACHANby MARY A. TURZILLOTHE LAD, HIS GREATCOAT drenched, ice clinging
to his hair and lashes, broughtthe cold smell of sleet into the castle hall with him. "I beg hospitality of thelaird, if you are he," the lad said, his voice wee as a bairn's.Duncan motioned for his manservant to build up the fire. "I'm Laird Campbell,and do you think I would turn away a stranger?"The lad nodded, not taking his huge, frightened eyes off Duncan."Bring hot porridge, whiskey, and a straw tick," said Duncan to the manservant.Both he and the manservant were muzzy, pulled out of sound sleep by the poundingon the door. "Why are you on the road in such weather?""Men track me like an animal," said the lad. "I've run these ten miles, and if Igo a step further, I shall fall down in the cold and sleep forever.""Give me your wet clothes," said Duncan, "and take this plaid to wrap aroundyou. You may sleep before the fire if you wish."The lad flinched away from Duncan, but surrendered his sodden greatcoat,smelling of wet wool, and took the plaid. The manservant had brought a bowl ofoats fragrant with added whiskey, and the lad ate it in neat, quick spoonsful."Why should they make an outlaw of so young a lad, bonnie as you are?""I have gone afoul of a powerful laird." The lad sank down by the fire andclosed his dark eyes. "Laird Duncan, I beg a boon.""Ask your boon, lad, and I'll give it.""Swear to take me under your protection.""It is sworn, lad.""By Ben Cruachan, swear."The mountain? Ben Cruachan was the sight he saw always from his home. It wasbeloved ground. But he had already sworn. "By Ben Cruachan, then, if you must."The lad pulled the plaid over his shoulders and sank down on the straw tick,turning away from Duncan.Duncan dreamt hideous dreams that night. His cousin Donald, to whose sisterElizabeth he was betrothed, came in the dream and addressed him sternly, sayinghe had said what Duncan woke in a cold sweat and dozed only fitfully the rest ofthe night.At dawn, Duncan's bagpiper -- for Duncan kept a piper in defiance of the ban --woke the household with a military air, "Are You Waking Yet, Johnny Cope?" andthen played a sad song, "The Flowers of the Forest Have Faded Away," whichalways made Duncan think of his father's funeral. His father had been dear tohim, and he remembered strolling with him during that last spring, pluckingsprigs of forget-me-not, Jacob's ladder, and primrose for the lasses.But the piper's wail put courage back in Duncan's heart; forgetting his illdreams, he went down to greet his guest. The youth was up and neatly dressed,looking less like a drowned cat than the night before. A comely lad, youngerthan Duncan himself, whose father's death had made him laird when he wasscarcely a man. The lad's fresh complexion and dark, flashing eyes pleasedDuncan, as did his elegant manners."What may be your name, that you ask hospitality of the Campbells?""I am Angus Stewart." The lad looked bashfully away. The Stewarts were on illterms with the Campbells, and Duncan frowned. He immediately regretted taking inthis child of discord.But he was a man of honor, and so sent for bannocks and tea with milk beforequestioning Angus Stewart further."May I know your crime?" he asked, as soon as was civil.Angus looked Duncan in the eye. "I killed a man in a fair fight. He had insultedmy honor. Please -- ' Angus held up a hand, "remember your pledge.""You extracted this promise from me by trickery," said Duncan thoughtfully, "butif your cause was honorable, I am bound by it."Angus fell to his knees and kissed Duncan's hand. "I shall do you whateverservice you wish, if you will shelter me."Duncan, come so recently to his title, was embarrassed. Such toadying |
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