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.Onlyone who knew aught could have pieced it together.Anyway, this scribe looks at me kind of strange, andhe reminds me of another I saw somewhere, blast his eyes, but I couldn't recall where.I took exceptionto him from the start.And with good reason, as it turns out later.For when I returned to Tarv Tower withEochaid at my side, to ask whether the message had been successfully sent for all me trouble and money,we were set upon by ruffians outside the Tower, and hunted through the streets.And in the process, I gotseparated from Eochaid but the heat was still on me.""Now, I always had a plan for if something like this should happen 'tis wise to keep a couple of escapeplans handy for emergencies, mark you, Imrhien.I have a friend with a boat at Tarv docks.Down there Irun, for the lick of me life, but when I get there, the boat is gone.Must've gone out fishing.At this point Iremember where I have seen the pox-faced Scribe before he be one of Scalzo's accomplices.Tarv befull of them or it was.Anyway, these sons of dogs being hot on me heels, I jump into the nearest boatand head off.This shakes them off me tail because there's a storm brewing which only a silkie or a madErtishman would take to the seas in.Being possessed of wondrous seamanship, I sail all the way toCaermelor, and many's the unlorraly tale I could tell about events along the way.But when I finally gethere, strike me lucky if the entire population doesn't already know that there's a treasure at Waterstairbecause some ladyship's found out about it and squawked.It's sleeveless me sayin' aught about what theworld already knows and expectin' a reward for it, so there's nothing left for it but to join the army.""Now, if a lad's going to join the army he wants to make the most of the last of his freedom first.So Imakes meself known at the nearest malt-house, where I meet a couple of blokes I used to knock aroundwith in the old days, good mates.We've had a few sessions.Priz that be his kenning and I wist noother he was in the lock-up once.He be a fellow always dressed so clean and neat, careful with hisclobber, like.Dogga, he don't fuss so much about what's on his back 'tis who's on the end of his fistthat counts with him.""So me and Priz and Dogga be sitting down to dine and Priz tells the story about how in that samemalt-house last year there was a fight and the floor was rotten and eight big blokes crashed through theplanking into the cellar below, which hadn't been used for fifteen years and was full of slime up to theirmiddles and Priz nearly laughed his well-tailored breeches off at the sight.Then I be telling the storyPage 103about when old Cauliflower died at the table playing cards, and his hand still on the table, and his mateslooked under his hand and there were three aces so they shoved the money in his pockets before theycarried him out, 'cos he'd won.""As I be telling this, in comes Lusco Barrowclough, as loudmouthed a bullying drunkard and want-wit asever cheated in a hurling match or got thrown out of a Severnesse tavern.I had not had the misfortune toset eyes on the whoreson villain for a year or two not long enough.Barrowclough's already well-oiled,and it's not long before he starts miscalling the maker and his nice little tarty servant-wenches.I up andtells this gentleman that if I want a disturbance while I be eating, I only have to go and eat at megrandmother's place.He looks down his Feorhkind nose at me, and me wearin' a Finvarnan kilt and hesays with a sneer, 'Nice legs.'""'Would ye like one of 'em up yer backside?' I offers.He starts mouthing off a bit, then Priz says, 'Pipedown while we're trying to eat,' and then Dogga looks up and puts in, 'I've had a gutful of ye.'""So then Barrowclough, the uraguhne , says, 'Well, I've had a gutful of ye ,' and adds, 'I'll break yerbleedin' neck.' Dogga politely responds, 'Ye couldn't break wind let alone break anyone's neck,' and inless time than it takes to fling a curse across a tavern, the fisticuffs is on.I flatten Barrowclough with muchjoy and return to my seat.He runs out the door and I politely say 'Pass the salt' and salubriously resumeeating with my two mates.Before we have quite finished dining, we look up to see our shera sethgegentleman walk back in the door.Behind him, another the same.Behind him, another.They keepwalking in, until in addition to Barrowclough, there be nine.None of them are comely, I can tell ye allbull-girthed, solid, bald, scarred, toothless, ugly skeerdas to a man, and ropeable as wounded steers.The maltster and the servants went pale, and so did all the other diners.""Not to be taken by surprise, I punched out one of Barrowclough's cronies with no preamble.Asforeseen, a fight began.There were stools being broken across blokes' backs, tables being overturned,crockery smashing, blokes flying through the air, round and round the malt-house for a goodly while.Abloke could have had another square meal and a tankard in the time it took for that fight.""While this is going on, another two malt-house customers who have been watching with interest see thatalthough 'tis three against ten, the three appear to be winning, so they join in on the winning side.Thatmakes it five against ten, and pretty soon Barrowclough and his nine are being helped out the door by themaltster and his brothers.We three now being five, we returned to our tables and sopped up the last bitsof gravy, which had been preserved from ruin more by our own effort than by some stroke of goodfortune.""As we are eating I take time to look at the condition of my mates.Priz, always so immaculate, bemissing a boot.The remaining boot be split.One of his sleeves be ripped off at the shoulder, his shirt andevery other article on him be torn.Dogga and I be in a similar condition.Heedless of smallinconveniences, we are partaking of the last part of our meal when a couple of fellows put their headsaround the door and survey the scene.They turn out to be a sheriff and a constable.""'Has there been a fight here?' says they.""We look around in surprise.The malt-house looks a mite untidy.""'Fight? I ain't seen no fight,' says we.The maltster says the same as we so do the serving-wenches.""The sheriff and the constable look us over once more, while we're licking the gravy off our trenchersand complimenting the maltster's cook on the meal.They warn us against disturbing the peace, we assurePage 104them that we shudder to think of the idea ever entering our heads, then they slouch out and leave us be [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]