"David Weber - The Excalibur Alternative" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weber David)

support, needed someone else to assume the ultimate responsibility, and that was Sir GeorgeтАЩs
job. To assume responsibility. No, to acknowledge the responsibility which was already his. And
so he made himself look as if he were carefully considering whatever it was the mate wanted to
do this time, then nodded vigorously.

The mate nodded back, then bellowed orders at his exhausted, battered handful of
surviving sailors. Wind howl and sea thunder thrashed the words into meaningless fragments
so far as Sir George could tell, but two or three men began clawing their way across the deck to
perform whatever task the mate had decreed, and Sir George turned his face back to the seaтАЩs
tortured millrace. It didnтАЩt really matter what the mate did, he thought. At worst, a mistake
would cost them a few hours of life they might otherwise have clung to; at best, a brilliant
maneuver might buy them an hour or two they might not otherwise have had. In the end, the
result would be the same.

HeтАЩd had such hopes, made so many plans. A hard man, Sir George Wincaster, and a
determined one. A peer of the realm, a young man who had caught his monarchтАЩs favor at
Dupplin and the siege of Berwick at the age of twenty-two, whoтАЩd been made a knight by
Edward IIIтАЩs own hand the next year on the field of Halidon Hill. A man whoтАЩd served with
distinction at the Battle of Sluys eight years laterтАФalthough , he thought with an edge of
mordant humor even now, if IтАЩd learned a bit more then of ships, I might have been wise enough to
stay home this time!тАФand slogged through the bitterly disappointing French campaign of 1340.
And a man who had returned with a fortune from Henry of DenbyтАЩs campaign in Gascony five
years later.

And a bloody lot of good itтАЩs done me in the end, he thought bitterly, remembering his
gleaming plans. At thirty-five, he was at the height of his prowess, a hard bitten, professional
master of the soldierтАЩs trade. A knight, yes, but the grandson of a commoner who had won
both knighthood and barony the hard way and himself a man who knew the reality of war, not
the minstrelsтАЩ tales of romance and chivalry. A man who fought to win тАж and understood the
enormous changes England and her lethal longbows were about to introduce into the
continental princesтАЩ understanding of the art of war.
 And one who knew there were fortunes to be made, lands and power to be won, in the
service of his King against Philip of France. Despite the disappointments of 1340, last year had
proved Edward III his grandfatherтАЩs grandson, a welcome relief after the weakness and self
indulgence of his father. Longshanks would have approved of the King, Sir George thought now.
He started slow, but now that DenbyтАЩs shown the way and heтАЩs chosen to beard Philip alone, the
lions of England will make the French howl!

Perhaps they would, and certainly EdwardтАЩs claim to the throne of France was better than
Philip VIтАЩs, but Sir George Wincaster would not win the additional renown, or the added
wealth and power he had planned to pass to his son, at his KingтАЩs side. Not now. For he and all
the troops under his command would find another fate, and no one would ever know where
and when they actually perished.


* * *


The corpse light of storm-wracked afternoon slid towards evening, and Sir George realized
dully that they had somehow survived another day.