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5-9 класс

Elementaly 01 авг. 2014 г., 8:59:25 (9 лет назад)

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Temaobuhov97

01 авг. 2014 г., 11:15:46 (9 лет назад)

After an hour of mad jumps Duke Маронский stopped the horse. The coming captain-adjutant fast, as required by the Charter, dismounted and picked up the occasion of the black horse.

- Sir, we must hurry, " said the adjutant.

He spoke quite quietly, with no apparent agitation or confusion.

Duke deftly jumped off the saddle and put his hand to the hard вздымающимся sides of the mighty steed.

- If we shall simply put the horses, then just all over. Rest half an hour.

"Excuse me, Sir, you will be picked...

"No, Martin, - cut Duke, " I will not leave Thunder. Enough for today shame.

Adjutant silently bowed. At a little distance, walnut groves, frozen riders from hundreds of protection.

The Duke took a few steps, fell on the grass, and unzipped his zipper and pulled off his heavy helmet. A felt lining was soaked with sweat and totally размокла, on the crest of his helmet, wearing a fresh dent - if Imperial soldiers at the last moment not to slip on it, it would be all over, and маронская steel stand. Needless to say, his eyes darkened, nose started bleeding, but it is the little things, not worthy of mention. As they say villagers? "The old wolf wound in sympathy".

If this was the only trouble! As everything is conducive evolved: double superiority in troops and nearly a five-fold in the cavalry. Hardened, not knowing fear veterans and passionate Academy graduates, willing to die for his master. Who can resist such an army?

From the grass inappropriate fun peeking red drops of vanilla. The Duke took a heavy glove and picked berries. Fingers are stained red juice. But somewhere here in childhood they were jumping, swinging wooden swords, and the old Lord mentor funny hobbled over, trying to catch and bring to reason brats. And here they Бриджиттой ran away with the crown of the ball. Just like in the song: "the Grass we had a bed couch, and canopy сплелся of children..." And now, for the valley, Maron March Imperial legions, leaving behind a burnt villages and towns, and Birgitta with children took refuge in the Russian far estate.