Міжзірковий мандрівник
Chapter 17
Bravehewas,andcruelhewas,withnoheartofmercyinthatgreatchestofhis.Erethesweatofbattlehaddriedonhim,leaningonhisaxe,heatetheheartofNgrunafterthefightatHasfarth.Becauseofmadangerhesoldhisson,Garulf,intoslaverytotheJuts.Iremember,underthesmokyraftersofBrunanbuhr,howheusedtocallfortheskullofGuthlafforadrinkingbeaker.SpicedwinehewouldhavefromnoothercupthantheskullofGuthlaf.
Andtohim,onthereelingdeckafterthestormwaspast,oldLingaardbroughtme.Iwasonlyhoursold,wrappednakedinasalt-crustedwolfskin.Nowithappens,beingprematurelyborn,thatIwasverysmall.
“Ho!ho!—adwarf!”criedTostig,loweringapotofmeadhalf-drainedfromhislipstostareatme.
Thedaywasbitter,buttheysayhesweptmenakedfromthewolfskin,andbymyfoot,betweenthumbandforefinger,dangledmetothebiteofthewind.
“Aroach!”heho-ho’d.“Ashrimp!Asea-louse!”Andhemadetosquashmebetweenhugeforefingerandthumb,eitherofwhich,Lingaardavers,wasthickerthanmylegorthigh.
Butanotherwhimwasuponhim.
“Theyounglingisa-thirst.Lethimdrink.”
Andtherewith,head-downward,intothehalf-potofmeadhethrustme.
