"David Gemmell - The Damned 02 - The Swords Of Night And Day" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gemmel David)

somehow mangled. He had said: ‘Just a servant, sir.’ The man had heard: ‘Jezzesarvanser.’

Moments later a second figure appeared in the doorway, a tall man with iron grey hair, receding at the
temples. He was lean, and slightly round-shouldered, his eyes deep and piercingly green. His clothes
were sombre, a tunic shirt of grey satin and leggings of black wool. He smiled nervously. ‘Mataianter?’
he asked.

Might I enter. The man in the bedroom gestured for him to step inside.

The newcomer began to speak swiftly. The man held up his hand and spoke. ‘I am having difficulty
understanding your dialect. Speak slowly.’

‘Of course. Language shifts, changes and grows. Can you understand me now?’ the other asked,
speaking clearly and enunciating his words. The man nodded. T know you will have many questions,’
said the newcomer, pulling shut the door behind him, ‘and they will all be answered in time.’ He glanced
down at the man’s bare feet. ‘There are several pairs of shoes and two pairs of boots in the closet
yonder,’ he said, pointing to a panel against the far wall. ‘You will find all the clothes fit you well.’

‘What am I doing here?’

‘An interesting first question. I hope you will not think me rude if I respond with one of my own. Do
you know yet who you are?’

‘No.’

The grey-haired man nodded. ‘That is understandable. It will come back to you. I assure you of that.
As to what you are doing here . . .’ he smiled again, ‘you will understand better once you have
remembered your name. So let us begin with my name. I am Landis Kan, and this is my home. The town
you see beyond is Petar. It is, you might say, a part of my domain. I want you to think of me as a friend,
someone who seeks to help you.’

‘Why have I no memory?’

‘You have been - shall we say - asleep for a long time. A very long time. That you are here at all is a
miracle. We must take things slowly. Trust me on this.’

‘Was I injured in some way?’

‘Why would you think that?’

‘I recall ... a battle. Painted Zharn tribesmen. I was stabbed. Yet I have no scars.’

‘Excellent,’ said Landis Kan. ‘The Zharn! That is excellent.’ He seemed massively relieved.

‘What is excellent?’

‘That you recall the Zharn. It tells me we have succeeded. That you are ... the man we sought.’

‘How so?’