"Gardner F. Fox - Kothar 01 - Kothar Barbarian Swordsman" - читать интересную книгу автора (Fox Gardner F)

A princedom as a reward. Isn't it enough?"

He grinned, "It's too much."

"And yet—perhaps not enough. There are grave dangers in Commoral,
these days. Red Lori is no sorceress to hang a necromancer in the sky
without safeguards against his freedom. Should you fail, you yourself may
be flayed and hung there with Kazazael for all eternity. Markoth has a
strong ally in Red Lori. Her enchantments put Kazazael where he is this
day, after the flaying knives were done with him. She will have put up
barriers past which no ordinary man could step."

He was no ordinary man, but she would not tell him that. As captain of
her Foreign Guard, he had been brusque, caring nothing that one or two
men under his command could boast of royal blood in their veins. With a
heavy hand, he had transformed her mercenaries into a real fighting force.
For a while this day, it had been nip and tuck between herself and Lord
Markoth, thanks to the Foreign Guard and to the zeal of its muscular
young commander.

With his fists, he had trained his men. With his skill at weapon-play, he
had taught them to fight almost as well as himself. No other man could do
that; this young barbarian was a born fighting man. He went straight for
his objective, swinging his sword; the man who got in his way, died.

She hoped he could do the same for Kazazael.

His hard blue eyes were studying her. He rasped, "How do I find
Kazazael? I've never heard of this Windmere Wood! And if Red Lori has
put up safeguards against anyone helping him—surely she'll make it next
to impossible to locate him?"
 "There is a horse knows the way," she said softly and turning, went to a
little door set in the wall of the hut and pushed open that door with her
hand. By bending, Kothar could see into a small stable attached to the hut.

A big grey warhorse with red velvet reins and red velvet fittings on the
high-peaked saddle on its back, stood patiently, waiting for a rider. There
was silver on its ring-bits and the nails which fastened the leather saddle
were of silver also, so that Kothar thought he had never seen so handsome
an animal, nor such horse trappings.

"I bought him for my husband, the king," the queen was saying as the
barbarian stared, "but now he shall belong to him who is my champion."
Elf a smiled and the witch-lights danced in her blue eyes. "I had him from
the wizard Kazazael. There may be magic in his hide."

Kothar grunted. He stepped past the queen and into the stable, lifting
the red velvet reins, slipping a black leather boot into the wooden stirrup
and lifting upward into the kak. He had to bend a little, for the stable roof
was not very high.