"Patrick Welch - Rock of Wages" - читать интересную книгу автора (Welch Patrick)

Finally a smile appeared as the dim light dawned. "You are most correct, friendly stranger. If
you have such a rope, that would indeed be possible!"

Of course I had the rope. We tied it thoroughly around the boulder; a few sample tugs
convinced him that my suggestion would work. He started pulling his load towards the hill,
then stopped. "My friend, your largesse has been great. Yet I have nothing to repay you with.
How can I thank you?"

"Just helping a fellow gentleman out of a most trying circumstance is reward enough. May
you enjoy success this day and may your burden be finally lifted!" His stream of benedictions
faded behind me as I road away. Back to Imogen.
I paused outside the tavern long enough to decompose myself, then burst in. "The giant," I
yelled. "He's coming!" The innkeeper looked up from the glass he was cleaning. This early
in the morning, the business was otherwise deserted. He was unconcerned and most
unfriendly. "It's you. What are you prattling about now?"

"The giant. He's coming back up the hill!"

"And how is that possible? You assured us the oil would prevent him from succeeding."
"He's not pushing the boulder. He's pulling it!"

The innkeeper set down his glass, his attention finally mine. "He cannot." Then he glared at
me suspiciously. "Unless he is obtaining assistance from someone."
"It matters not now. Come," I went to the door. "Something must be done to stop him and
protect your village."

The innkeeper followed. Soon nearly the entire village trailed behind my wagon as we made
our now familiar journey up the hill. The townsfolk formed a crown on the crest as we all
gazed below. The giant was making steady progress. As I had promised, his cleated shoes
still afforded excellent purchase in the oil-stained soil. The strong rope stretched taut behind
him as the boulder slid rather than rolled over gravel, dirt, oil and the occasional patch of
grass, making his task much easier. I glanced up at the sky. At this rate he would reach the
summit within the hour.

The townspeople recognized their peril as well. The innkeeper approached me. "More oil,"
he demanded. "We must have more oil!"
"I am afraid you have exhausted my supply. If you had been a bit more conservative in your
use of it..." I shrugged.

He grabbed me. "We must do something!"

I pulled his hands away and stepped back, disgusted. "Control yourself. We must think
clearly in this situation, not allow our reasoning to be clouded by rampant emotions." I
looked anew down the hill. "I should have something..."
"What?" The entire village was gathered around me now.
"Wait here," I ordered and went to my carriage. I returned dragging a small chest.

"What is it? What is in there?" a buzz of conversation rose among the townsfolk.
I ignored them and instead pulled the innkeeper aside. "This is a very valuable chest. In
order to accomplish what we must, it will be destroyed. I expect suitable compensation."