"Wentworth-AsYouSow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wentworth K D)

violin drawn out to almost unbearable clarity. No matter what anyone else said,
they were wonderful, just so incredibly marvelous and strange with their smooth,
curving necks and delicate legs; the black on the ends of their beaks and wings
was as inky as the inside of a cave, and in the dawn light, their feathers even
seemed to have acquired a pinkish cast.

In fact, as he reached the first one, which was already busily seining mud and
water through its down-bent bill, he realized its feathers were faintly pink.
And it was not the only one. At least half the flock was showing a tendency
toward pinkness too.

He didn't know what to make of that-- did it portend good health or bad? He
wished he could ask the old peddler. There was just so much that he would have
liked to know.

"Ungern Aavik!"

Turning around, he saw a man with a rifle slung over his shoulder trotting up on
a sturdy, big-hooved chestnut gelding. "Yes?" he said, shading his eyes as he
looked into the rising sun, then shuddered. It was Juri Masaryk, the landowner's
overseer, a heavy-browed, slump-shouldered man with a penchant for the whip.

"Lord Kreutzwald sent me after you. What's your problem? Do you think that flax
jumps into the wagon by it self --" Masaryk broke off, his mouth sagging under
his black mustache as he stared at the wading birds. "What -- are those?"

"Birds, "Ungern replied uncomfortably.

"What kind of birds.~"

"I don't know." Ungern walked toward the horse. "Look, I'm sorry about the
missing days. I'll make them up, starting right now. I'll do the work of two
men, I promise."

"Humph! Any day I get the work of one man out of a peasant will be a great
surprise to me." Masaryk unsung the rifle and brought the barrel around to bear
on the flock. "You get your miserable carcass out to the fields. I'm going to
bag a few of these for the lord's table. He likes unusual game."

"No!" Ungern stepped into his line of fire. "You can't!"

The overseer lowered the rifle. "And why not?"

"Because they're mine and they're not for sale." Ungern glanced over his
shoulder at the quietly feeding birds.

"This is Lord Kreutzwald's land, peasant. Everything on it belongs to him,
including you!" Masaryk sighted along the rifle. "Now get out of the way."

Ungern's heart skipped a beat, then he turned and ran back toward the pond,