Текст книги "The Adventures Of The Marquis Boy"

Автор книги: Олег Рыбаченко

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  THE ADVENTURES OF THE MARQUIS BOY

  ANNOTATION

  A boy from our time moves to the Middle Ages and becomes a marquis. But Julius Caesar – what is the name of the boy, does not expect the most affectionate reception, and his adventures become very wild.

  . CHAPTER #1

  The boy walked along the road and saw around him some kind of medieval city, in which poor huts and good houses made of white stone alternated.

  Julius was in an expensive and luxurious suit. On his feet are smart, polished boots, and on his head is a hat with a feather. Now he seems to be a noble person – a young marquis who is thirteen years old, but he is the heir to a noble family.

  The boy walks, stamping his heels and smiling. Children run past. Almost all are barefoot, in torn, simple clothes, but cheerful, tanned, with smiles.

  Indeed, children are almost always smiling and in a good mood. And they don't have to pretend. And if the child frowns and is sad, then something hurts him, or some serious trouble. Type deuce in the diary.

  Julius, having become a noble, even a minor marquis, sang:

  – I am the king, everything is subject to me,

  I drive with passion...

  And the whole earth trembles,

  Under the heel of the king!

  And the boy, as he takes it and laughs, showing his pearl teeth, sparkling in the sun.

  This is, indeed, a kid who, if necessary, will move mountains. A girl of ten years old, sparkling with bare, pink heels, ran past, held out her hand and asked:

  – Give me a pretty penny, noble seigneur!

  The boy took out a gold coin from his purse, threw it to the girl and said:

  – Take it, but on condition!

  The girl stamped her small, tanned, scratched child's foot and asked:

  – On what condition, sir?

  Julius replied:

  – You won't tell anyone that I gave you the coin.

  The girl shook her red curls and asked:

  – And why? After all, this is a good deed.

  The marquis boy answered logically:

  – Because then a whole horde of beggars, barefoot, ragged children will come running, and they will not allow passage.

  The girl crossed herself and said solemnly:

  – I swear, by the Mother of God, I won't tell anyone!

  And flashing, with bare, round heels, she ran on.

  And Julius, feeling an influx of inspiration in himself, sang;

  I'm proud of my country

  She opened up space...

  Though the hordes attack with Satan -

  There is no passable yard at all!

  We boys are dashing warriors,

  We attack directly at the enemies...

  Frost, snowdrift, and bare feet,

  There are many bruises on the faces!

  The boys, however, the enemy will not stop,

  We know how to fight very bravely...

  And the Fuhrer, believe me, we'll kill it,

  Retribution will come to the servants of the abyss-darkness!

  In the name of the most radiant Motherland,

  We will, directly, boldly fight ...

  We will build the heights of communism,

  And we will break any, you know, army!

  We are pioneers, just children

  Our tie is red – the color of kumach ...

  But for your country, believe me, in the answer,

  And he will glorify the cause of Ilyich!

  Yes, our Motherland, believe me, is beautiful,

  In it, in the Arctic, apple trees bloom ...

  And it's dangerous to fight with boys,

  They will smash the fascists to pieces!

  We will admire communism

  Which we build in happiness and love...

  And we can reckon with fascism,

  That sheds an ocean of blood!

  Do not believe it, being a pioneer is not weak,

  I'm a boy, but a fighter is so cool...

  For us, believe me, even the world is not enough,

  He threw a grenade with his bare foot!

  I scribble on the Nazis very aptly,

  And he began to get very active ...

  And even the grid does not save

  And I get consistently five!

  Do not believe that fascism is invincible,

  I fought him bravely, pioneer...

  Above us wings fly cherubs,

  Let's set an example for others!

  Fought in the Name of God Jesus

  And the great God Svarog is with us ...

  We have known the victories of the glory of taste,

  After all, strength is with us, White, Wise God!

  Yes, my homeland is dearer than anything,

  I'm a pioneer, I'm fighting for Rus' now...

  And I will move the Fuhrer straight in the face,

  So, boy, fight and don't be afraid!

  I was somehow captured by the enemy by accident,

  Fritz's heels were burned to the child ...

  The fire under the soles burns mercilessly,

  Broke the boy's toes!

  Flogged very hard, almost to death,

  They brought the iron to the chest with heat ...

  Fascists, it's like hell from hell

  Almost took the boy's head off!

  They led me to the noose barefoot,

  Although I'm still quite, consider the kid ...

  And I heard a lot of evil words,

  But Stalin is still my father!

  At the moment of the last shot of the partisan,

  He mowed down the line of evil monsters ...

  Enemies then did not seem enough,

  At least someone was screaming in wild fear!

  I returned to my squad again,

  A boy running barefoot in the snow...

  And the willows are shaking over the snowdrifts,

  I will not give mercy, I see the enemy!

  Let the era of communism be famous,

  And Stalin is our most glorious father...

  We will scatter the hordes of fascism to ashes,

  Who is with us, he is forever well done!

  Yes, our Motherland knows no measure,

  We will zealously exterminate the Fritz ...

  Let's rid the land of violent cholera,

  To be able to pick up prizes for yourself!

  I am a boy, a pioneer, a big warrior,

  I fight, believe me, like a giant ...

  And Hitler, it's just, you know, byaka,

  And to me Svarog is only a lord with Rod!

  And if necessary, the time of communism,

  Will come in the glory of the country's knights...

  Let's break the chains of evil revanchism,

  And we will reflect the streams of darkness of the horde!

  Here we are fighters entering Berlin,

  We attack bunkers, palaces...

  Victory came in radiant May,

  Our grandchildren and fathers are proud of us!

  The marquis boy sang well, just wonderful. Although the song was not from that opera, and from another time. And in general, not entirely appropriate at this point. But he sang with pleasure and feeling, and this is already excellent.

  Several riders on black horses and in armor rode up to Julius. The largest of them, in a gilded helmet, sternly asked:

  – What is it to eat here? What are you, a foreigner?

  Julius boldly replied:

  – If yes, then what!

  The brute remarked:

  – Your clothes are luxurious, but you go on foot, not on a horse. And why is that?

  The marquis boy answered ironically:

  But why,

  It is impossible to live in the mind

  But why,

  You can't trust anyone

  Why, life does not teach us anything,

  Why, why, why!

  Gromila noted:

  – We will arrest you and send you to the torture cellar. There the executioners will find out who you are. Maybe even a spy!

  Julius replied in a harsh tone:

  – I'm the Marquis de Caesar!

  The head of the guards growled:

  – Show me the document!

  The boy reached for his belt. He then knew that in this world, he was a marquis from a noble family. But this still needs to be proven. And show a document with a stamp.

  But there was no document. Like a beautiful white horse. The boy remembered that he had left the horse and the document and the weapon as a pledge with the vampire Hess. Why?

  The vampire released the captive children for this. And he had to return the deposit if Julius could find the magic snuffbox that this bloodsucker sorcerer sowed somewhere in this city.

  Julius expected to figure it out, but this mission flew out of his head. That's how it happened.

  And now the boy was in a difficult position. Without documents, no one will believe him. And clothes can be stolen, just like gold.

  The guards, seeing Julius' confusion, dismounted from their horses. Hastily searched the boy, took the gold. They also tore off an expensive camisole and smart boots. After that, they tied the boy.

  And barefoot, in one shirt and rolled up trousers, with a rope around his neck, they led him to the castle.

  Julius felt humiliated. He is led like a dog, or a slave on a leash. Moreover, the hands are tied behind the back, which hurts, and the hands, and the elbows, and the shoulders are numb and painfully ache.

  Yes, and the pavement street of the medieval city is very dirty, and horse and cow cakes are scattered along it. Which is very disgusting.

  The boy's bare soles are rather elastic and callused. They have not yet had time to pamper and soften. Rather, he suffers from the loss of expensive and shiny boots morally than physically.

  But it's disgusting to feel robbed. And as if you are no longer a marquis, but a commoner.

  The boy walked, slapping his bare feet, his mood was not major.

  However, to lighten the mood a little, one could sing. But nothing came to mind. It's like the inspiration has been turned off. And a complete lack of enthusiasm.

  Julius sighed even harder. The old, barefoot girl in a tattered, impoverished dress suddenly ran up to him and chirped:

  – Are you a prisoner?

  The guard shouted at the child:

  – Back off! We're bringing a spy in for questioning!

  The girl murmured:

  – Wow! But it's so interesting!

  The head guard remarked:

  – If you want the executioner to roast your heels, then you can come with us. Perhaps you are his accomplice?

  The girl replied:

  – No! I see him for the first time. But he is still a boy, and are you really going to fry his soles with fire?

  The head guard nodded.

  – Certainly! Our executioners are professionals. And waiting for the boy and the rack, and the whip, and red-hot tongs!

  The girl chirped:

  But it's so cruel!

  – We will flog you now! – And the guard swung at the girl with a whip. She jumped back and rushed to run, flashing her bare, pink heels.

  Julius took a deep breath. His mood was not major. And now it's completely messed up.

  Here the boy was brought to the fence with sharp spears on top. Here was the building of the city prison. And this is a real fort. In the prison yard, they just flogged a girl. She was quite beautiful, although somewhat thin and bony. And the whip of the executioner whipped her on her bare back. The torturer himself was in a red robe, and rather fleshy and massive.

  And hit hard. The girl's entire back and sides were slashed, and blood flowed. She screamed at the top of her lungs in pain.

  Julius felt sick and turned away. Yes, the customs here are wild. But soon, apparently, the whip will go through his muscular, tanned, sinewy back.

  Julius winced. After the pleasant warmth of the cobblestones of the pavement and courtyard heated in the sun, the boy's bare feet felt cold and damp inside the prison.

  Julius sang:

  Taganka, I am your permanent prisoner,

  Lost youth and talent...

  Within your walls!

  And the boy shuddered again involuntarily. He was immediately taken to the torture cellar. Executioners, as you know, do not tolerate downtime. Yes, and their work is not easy, sometimes you have to work hard around the clock.

  And depending on whom to torture. Not always come across beautiful girls and cute boys.

  The chief guard handed Julius over to the chief executioner. Judging by the groans and howls, there was a very intensive work.

  The chief executioner looked at Julius and remarked:

  – Good! Well, why are you here with us?

  The boy replied:

  – Never!

  The head guard said:

  – He pretended to be a count...

  Julius interrupted:

  – For the Marquis!

  The big warrior nodded.

  – Especially! And we suspect it's a spy! We need to knock out a confession and the names of accomplices from him.

  The executioner nodded in agreement.

  – It's clear! But we're busy right now. However, let's try the Spanish boots.

  The head guard confirmed:

  – I believe in your professionalism.

  The chief executioner remarked:

  – Spanish boot, this is a very painful torture. Maybe you can tell us who sent you here and for what purpose?

  Julius stated:

  – No one directed me. I am on my own.

  The chief tormentor nodded.

  – Get started!

  The executioner's assistants grabbed the boy and dragged him to a spiked steel chair. Since Julius would already be barefoot, they raised his rolled-up trouser leg a little higher and pulled up the device. He had to gradually squeeze the leg when turning the wheel.

  Having carefully fixed it, the executioner grinned carnivorously.

  Scribes were sitting in the hall, and they wrote down all the testimony. And also there was an inhuman howl that escaped from the throats of the tortured. Two of the scribes prepared to write down everything Julius had to say.

  The boy asked in annoyance:

  – Aren't you disgusted by what you do?

  The executioner logically remarked:

  – Everyone has their own job. The Goldsmiths don't like what they do either, but their work is also useful in its own way. So we, for example, also benefit by exposing spies like you!

  Julius confidently said:

  – I'm not a spy!

  The executioners nodded.

  – That's what we'll find out now. We will interrogate you with passion, and you will tell us everything.

  A woman with fiery red hair approached them and, setting an hourglass, said:

  – Since he is not yet fifteen – the age of majority, then you can torture him only at the time when the sand is pouring in the clock.

  The executioner remarked:

  "Maybe he"s already fifteen. The muscles are cast!

  The redhead nodded.

  – Quite possible! But in this case, let there be a sparing regime. I myself will spin the wheel so as not to break the child's bones.

  The executioner confirmed:

  – Yes, you are a great specialist in torturing jerks. But still, practice shows – a cruel method, and there is the most effective!

  The red-haired woman, instead of answering, twirled the bolster of a Spanish boot. Julius felt the metal squeeze his foot. In addition, the spikes of the chair through the thin shirt unpleasantly pricked the back.

  The woman executioner kindly asked:

  Are you hurt, my boy?

  Julius honestly replied:

  – A little!

  The redhead smiled wickedly.

  – Now it will hurt more!

  And again she spun the roller. Indeed, the pain intensified. It squeezed a lot harder.

  Julius resolutely replied:

  – So, you won't get anything from me!

  The female executioner looked the boy in the eyes and remarked:

  – Maybe! – and added with a smile. "You know, I think you probably know how to fight pretty well.

  The boy nodded.

  – There is a concept.

  Red suggested:

  – Come on, I'll offer you a fight with the same kid as you. If you win, you won't be tortured today.

  Julius chuckled.

  – That's all!?

  The woman replied, baring her teeth:

  – What else did you want? Well, you'll get a piece of meat for dinner and you'll sleep in a separate cell, which is very good for a boy. Only in this case, you will already fight every day. And not only with jerks like himself, but also with adults!

  The boy said with a smile:

  – Do you want to make a gladiator out of a marquis?

  The redhead smiled wickedly.

  – Do you want to be put on the rack? And roasted your heels? And yet, they raised it to the ceiling and abruptly dropped it down, such a shake-up is very painful.

  Julius calmly asked:

  – Can you let me go?

  The female executioner replied with a carnivorous smile:

  – If you earn a lot of money for me, then maybe I will give you freedom. In the meantime, fight to the bitter end.

  The executioner remarked:

  – Until the time is up, you must torture him. Perhaps hot iron should be applied to the soles?

  The redhead smirked and remarked:

  – That's an idea! But you can hurt your child's foot. I'd rather try another, not so much dangerous to health, but no less effective.

  The executioner woman unscrewed the roller. And Julius felt a certain freedom and relief in himself. Then the executioners rolled aside the Spanish boots.

  The redhead took an ostrich feather from the basket and remarked:

  – Now I'll tickle your heels.

  And she carefully ran the boys along the slightly dusty soles. Julius felt a pleasant tickle. The woman began to move the ostrich feather over the child's hardened foot. She did it very cleverly, and the boy giggled. Yes, it's cool. Such is the torture.

  The woman, smiling slyly, asked:

  – Can you sleep?

  Julius, giggling, replied:

  – It was, ha, ha, ha, very cool! But it's not so easy!

  The redhead nodded, took away her feather and growled:

  – Sing!

  The marquis boy sang;

  I was born free, believe me

  He was a boy with great aplomb ...

  We frolicked, because small children,

  And I wanted to become very cool!

  But suddenly the horde came running,

  They put a lasso on the lad ...

  They seem to have little territory.

  Like a terrible hurricane roars!

  What should I do in a harsh world

  Where now the boy has become a slave ...

  shackled with steel,

  And they drove to the ground barefoot!

  I walked on the sharpest stones,

  Either they prick, then they beat with a whip ...

  I wanted to have many women

  And now I see, soon kaput!

  Baskets were laid on me

  There are heavy stones in them ...

  The overseer's whip smacks my back,

  It would be better if they gave me a machine gun!

  But the Lord, he certainly does not sleep,

  The boy was given an unthinkable chance ...

  The boy was not born in the village,

  And I didn"t drink faded kvass with foam!

  Here he was offered to fight,

  Thankfully the fashion was...

  There is no chance, believe me, the boys give up,

  The way to go from the beginning to the bottom!

  You are now a gladiator boy,

  And not just the dumbest donkey...

  And trample into this battle like a tractor,

  The boy's treasurer is sharp!

  Here he came together in a harsh battle,

  And the opponent is the same kid ...

  He uses not a new technique,

  And strikes with swords!

  But in response, the boy made a lunge,

  And the enemy was so struck ...

  There was a blow very strong, already too much,

  He cut the boy in half!

  The fight is over and there will be a reward

  They gave him bread and lard...

  A new fight must be carried out again,

  And do not ask, alas, why!

  The red-haired woman nodded approvingly with her fiery hair.

  – Wonderful! Now come on, you're going to fight.

  And she quickly dragged the boy out of the torture chamber. The executioner remarked with a grin:

  – For this, you will pour wine for us!

  The red female executioner confirmed:

  – Certainly!

  And she stepped up. She, too, like Julius, was without boots. Because it's hot in the torture chamber. And in general, women do not really like shoes, they prefer to walk barefoot in the heat, which is much more pleasant.

  So they walked through the yard, and went out to a small stadium. The audience was already there.

  There were fights with and without weapons. With the latter, of course, there are fewer victims, but this is not so interesting. The bets are closed.

  The redhead took off the boy's silk shirt, which hardly concealed his muscles. She felt his relief, elastic muscles and said in a whisper:

  – The first fight, underage fighters up to fifteen years old, when they are beginners, is usually carried out with their peers and without weapons. I see that you are a strong fighter, and you can lay down your counterpart easily. Therefore, please, drag out the fight, and let yourself be beaten a little. Otherwise, it won't be too good. I want to make money on the sweepstakes when they put up a more serious fighter against you!

  Julius nodded.

  – I understand business. Well then, let's fight!

  The redhead pushed him.

  – Go! You are new, first.

  The boy, slapping his bare feet, entered the ring. He was very handsome and muscular. And he was literally devoured by the eyes, especially by women.

  The herald announced:

  – This fighter is in the arena for the first time. His name is Julius. So far, without a nickname that the public itself should give!

  In response, a roar of approval.

  Julius bowed, standing in the center of the ring. He had never fought like this before for a prize. In his former life, he had a slightly different profession. Although he, of course, had a concept, he was very strong by nature. Maybe, in fact, his father was someone very cool.

  But his rival jumped out almost running. Also a boy, but with black hair, unlike the fair-haired Julius. Also handsome and muscular, and only a couple of centimeters taller than his visas.

  The herald announced:

  – And this is his opponent, nicknamed the Cat, four wins, one loss. Place your bets gentlemen.

  Julius' muscle relief was sharper, but his opponent is about a year older, a little taller and heavier. And most importantly, he had the experience of fighting, which is important. They began to place bets. The cat was in the same swimming trunks, according to custom, for underage fighters, barefoot. His face seems to be still childish, but his eyes are angry, shifty.

  Before the gong signal sounded, he took and rushed at Julius. True, the boy, who was a slave, more than once received a sudden blow with a whip and was, of course, on the alert. And met him with a fist in the chest. And both boys grappled and began to fight.

  Yuliya's opponent may not be that good genetically, but he is well trained and tries to fail with the help of the trip. Julius let him knock him over, but then wriggled out, literally slipping out. And the guys dispersed.

  Now the Cat began to try to hit with bare feet in the stomach, or in the groin. Julius answered. The two boys clashed, then fought again.

  Julius was able to lift his counterpart and throw him over himself. He crashed, gasped, but jumped up again. And the battle continued with renewed vigor.

  The boys waved their fists and threw a cascade of blows at each other. Julius got hit on the nose and face, but he also did not remain in debt.

  The boys grappled again and began to fight. The enemy tried to trip again. But Julius was on the alert, and was able to tear his opponent off the gravel and, lifting him up, throw him again with force. He groaned and groaned again in pain. He tried to get up, but Julia's shin hit him right on the chin.

  The boy gritted his teeth and fell again. Julius picked him up by the hair. He remembered the reception he had seen on TV. He took it, turned his counterpart upside down. And then, as he takes it and sits down, hammering into the gravel with force.

  He was bleeding from his nostrils. And it looks like the boy finally passed out.

  Julius placed it carefully and bowed to the audience. Then he raised his hands up.

  Then a barefoot female referee, almost without clothes, but muscular, like a gymnast, jumped up to him and said:

  – Put your foot on his chest. If after three blows he does not tear the shoulder blade off the gravel, your victory will be recorded!

  Julius asked with a smile:

  – And if it breaks?

  The female referee answered confidently:

  – Then, you hit him again so that he does not twitch!

  The boy put his bare, strong foot on the chest of the defeated boy. She was tattooed with a cat, sweaty, tanned, muscular, and heaving heavily.

  The blond woman began to beat. At the third blow, the boy twitched and tore his shoulder blade off the hard gravel.

  She looked at the boy and said:

  – No hold. Beat him!

  The audience roared at the top of their lungs:

  – Beat him! Finish it!

  Julius took and again raised the unfortunate young gladiator, turned him over again and, even jumping, moved his head along the dense gravel. And I almost broke my neck. Then he threw it, much rougher than before. And turned over on his back. From the nostrils, blood gushed much more abundantly. Julius soaked his foot in it and left a scarlet, barefoot, elegant print on the gravel. And then a couple more.

  Then he placed his bloodied foot on his chest.

  The blonde referee slowly delivered three blows near the left ear of the unconscious boy and announced:

  – Out! Win by knockout!

  And she raised the muscular arm of the gladiator boy sharply up!

  Julius exclaimed:

  – Victoria!