"Zelazny, Roger - The 1st Chronicles of Amber - 02 - Guns Of Avalon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zelazny Roger) Instead, we talked, and then something else happened.
Her hair was rust-colored with a few strands of gray in it. I guessed she was under thirty, though. Eyes, very blue. Slightly pointed chin. Clean, even teeth inside a mouth that smiled at me a lot. Her voice was somewhat nasal, her hair was too long, her make-up laid on too heavily over too much tiredness, her complexion too freckled, her choice in clothing too bright and tight. But I liked her. I did not think I'd actually feel that way when I asked her out that night because, as I said, liking her was not what I had in mind. There was no place to go but my chamber, so we had gone there. I had become a captain, and I took advantage of my rank by having dinner brought to us, and an extra bottle of wine. "The men are afraid of you," she said. "They say you never grow tired." "I do," I said, "believe me." "Of course," she said, shaking her too-long locks and smiling. "Don't we all?" "I daresay," I replied. "How old are you?" "How old are you?" "A gentleman would not ask that question." "Neither would a lady?" "When you first came here, they thought you were over fifty." "And...?" "And now they have no idea. Forty-five? Forty?" "No," I said. "I didn't think so. But your beard fooled everyone." "Beards often do that." "You look better every day. Bigger..." "Thanks. I feel better than I did when I arrived." "Sir Corey of Cabra," she said. "Where's Cabra? What's Cabra? Will you take me there with you, if I ask you nicely?" "I'd tell you so," I said, "but I'd be lying." "I know. But it would be nice to hear." "Okay. I'll take you there with me. It's a lousy place." "Are you really as good as the men say?" "I'm afraid not. Are you?" "No. I'd rather talk. Have a glass of wine." "Thank you...Your health." "Yours." "Why is it you are such a good swordsman?" "Aptitude and good teachers." "...And you carried Lance all that distance and slew those beasts..." "Stories grow with the telling." "But I have watched you. You are better than the others. That is why Ganelon made you whatever deal he did. He knows a good thing when he sees it. I've had many friends who were swordsmen, and I've watched them at practice. You could cut them to pieces. The men say you are a good teacher. They like you, even if you do scare them." "Why do I frighten them? Because I am strong? There are many strong men in the world. Because I can stand up and swing a blade for a long while?" "They think there is something supernatural involved." I laughed. "No, I'm just the second-best swordsman around. Pardon me -- maybe the third. But I try harder." "Who's better?" "Eric of Amber, possibly." "Who is he?" "A supernatural creature." "He's the best?" "No." "Who is?" "Benedict of Amber." "Is he one, too?" "If he is still alive, he is." "Strange, that's what you are," she said. "And why? Tell me. Are you a supernatural creature?" "Let's have another glass of wine." |
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