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

demeanors. "He cheated me." "He's a thief." "He sells fraudulent merchandise."

Those were just a few of the libelous accusations hurled at me.

The constable approached menacingly. "You are no longer welcome in Imogen," he
snarled.
I glanced at the half empty bottle of excellent vintage on my table and sighed. "I am sorry you
feel that way," I said, rising. "However, I do not wish my customers be dissatisfied. If you will
follow me to my wagon, I will repay each of you. Then," I addressed the constable, "I will be
on my way."

They cursed me as they followed me out the inn; they cursed me as I repaid them; they
cursed me as I drove my team down the street. Imogen denizens were tireless cursers. I
made my slow shameful journey out of town, down the lane and around the hill. I soon
reached a clearing and found the giant staring forlornly into his fire. I drove up and stopped.

"I see even a giant needs his rest," I greeted him. In the firelight I could see the ugly red welts
that covered his body. The gnats had dined well.
"I am lost," he groaned. "Those insects. I can fight a man. I can fight a dragon. I cannot fight
them." His voice trailed off into self-pity.

I joined him by his fire and commiserated. We had both been treated harshly by Imogen.
Reparations were called for. "My friend, insects need sleep as well," I observed.
He studied me with curiosity. "How does that information assist me?"

"Could you not conclude your labors at night?"
Again the pause was pregnant before the concept was delivered. "Yes. But I have to see the
ground beneath me, the hill before me."
"That is a resolvable enigma." I reached into the satchel at my side and handed him a hat.
"This is a special helmet," I explained.

"Here," I pointed, "is a small oil lamp and lens. Miners wear these. It will provide sufficient
light so you can successfully navigate yon hillside. There is enough oil to keep it lit for
several hours, enough time, I wager, to reach the summit." I lit the wick and was rewarded
with a piercing beam of light. "Try it."

He complied and beamed as bright as the lamp when he realized how effective it indeed
was. "Your benevolence is beyond compensation," he assured me warmly. "I will commence
this very instant!" He was as good as his word. He grabbed hold of the ropes and started
hauling the boulder smoothly up the hill. As I had predicted, no buzzing insects attacked him
as he confidently progressed.
He had traversed a good quarter of the terrain when I called out to him. "Remember," I
yelled, "when you reach the summit. Be sure to push the boulder down the other side. We
don't want to imperil any innocents traveling this road!"
"I will, kind stranger. And thank you."

I watched for a few more minutes, then returned to my wagon. I would have liked to get some
sleep, but I had dallied too long in Imogen. My horses snorted in protest as I urged them out
onto the road. I had obligations in Hamelin.
The End