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Jules Verne: balíček 12 elektronických knih (PDF+ePub)     za 528  238 Kč (-55%)

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It was early morning. Shawn Ogg was on guard on the battlements of Lancre castle, all that stood between the inmates and any mighty barbarian hordes that might be in the area.

He enjoyed the military life. Sometimes he wished a small horde would attack, just so's he could Save the Day. He daydreamed of leading an army into battle, and wished the king would get one.

A brief scream indicated that Hodgesaargh was giving his charges their morning finger.

Shawn ignored the noise. It was part of the background hum of the castle. He was passing the time by seeing how long he could hold his breath.

He had any amount of ways of passing the time, since guard duty in Lancre involved such an awful lot of it. There was Getting The Nostrils Really Clean, that was a good one. Or Farting Tunes. Or Standing On One Leg. Holding His Breath and Counting was something he fell back on when he couldn't think of anything else and his meals hadn't been too rich in carbohydrates.

There were a couple of loud creaks from the door knocker, far below. There was so much rust on it now that the only way it could be coaxed into making any sound was to lift it up, which made it squeak, and then force it mightily downward, which caused another squeak and, if the visitor was lucky, a faint thud.

Shawn took a deep breath and leaned over the battlements.

"Halt! Who Goes There?" he said.

A ringing voice came up from below.

"It's me, Shawn. Your mum."

"Oh, hello. Mum. Hello, Mistress Weatherwax."

"Let us in, there's a good boy."

"Friend or Foe?"

"What?"

"It's what I've got to say, Mum. It's official. And then you've got to say Friend."

"I'm your mum."

"You've got to do it properly, Mum," said Shawn, in the wretched tones of one who knows he's going to lose no matter what happens next, "otherwise what's the point?"

"It's going to be Foe in a minute, my lad."

"Oooaaaww, Mum!"

"Oh, all right. Friend, then."

"Yes, but you could just be saying that-"

"Let us in right now, Shawn Ogg."

Shawn saluted, slightly stunning himself with the butt of his spear.

"Right you are. Mistress Weatherwax."

His round, honest face disappeared from view. After a minute or two they heard the creaking of the portcullis.

"How did you do that?" said Nanny Ogg. "Simple," said Granny. "He knows you wouldn't make his daft head explode."

"Well, I know you wouldn't, too."

"No you don't. You just know I ain't done it up to now."

(Terry Pratchett, Discworld - Lords And Ladies)

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