Книга только для ознакомления
. One barrel of Sarem
ale will be worth the world to them, and five barrels leaves
us one apiece."
Darll looked up, startled. "You're counting me?"
"You did your share on the road, sir," Graym said.
"Each of us gets profits from one barrel of ale. And, if we're
all clever - " he looked at Jarek and amended hastily, " - or
at least if we stick together, we get exclusive Sarem trade
rights to Krinneor. We'll have all the food we want, and
houses."
"And a sword?" Jarek asked eagerly. "I've always
wanted a sword. My mother wouldn't let me have anything
sharp."
Graym smiled at him. "And a sword. And maybe a
quick parole for friend Darll, and a tavern for me to run - "
"And a woman for me," Fenris said firmly.
"And me," Fanris echoed.
Graym scratched his head, looked dubious.
"Right," Darll said. "I'm sure that somewhere in
Krinneor there's a pair of dirty, nearsighted women with no
self-respect left."
The Wolf brothers brightened considerably.
*****
By late night, the blanket screens were down and they'd
piled wood on to make a man-high flame. The Wolf
brothers were singing a duet about a bald woman who'd
broken the heart of a barber, and Darll was weeping.
"You 'member," he said, his arm around Graym,
"'member when the bounty hunters attacked, and I saved
us?"
"You did well, sir," said Graym.
Darll snuffled. "I was going to run off, but then I
remembered you had the keys to the manacles."
Graym patted his pocket
|
