"Stephen Goldin - Storyteller" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goldin Stephen)

He repeated to them the story he'd extracted from the Marakhi envoy Tabib abu Saar, of how
Shammara and King Basir had conspired against the peaceful wedding party and set the ambush for them
in the woods; of how Shammara had planned a purge against all his loyal followers left behind in Ravan
so her son, Prince Haroun—married to Princess Oma—could rule as king in Ravan; and of how only the
miraculous intervention they witnessed kept them from being slaughtered by King Basir's men.

“The gates of the Holy City are now closed to us,” the prince went on. “If we try to return, our small
force will be wiped out by Shammara's army. Some of you might slip in as individuals in disguise—but as
men known to be loyal to me you would have to be careful, for discovery would surely mean your
deaths.
 “Similarly, it is rumored that Shammara concluded deals with most of the neighboring kingdoms that I
and my party be killed on sight if we seek protection there. I fear we will find no sanctuary within a
hundred parasangs of Ravan, other than this holy shrine, which Shammara's treachery could not subvert.
It was for this reason I led you here after the ambush, rather than to our original destination. I needed to
confer with the prophet of Sarafiq and receive a vision of my destiny."

Prince Ahmad stood erect and proud on the minbar, the jewels of his turban occasionally reflecting the
last rays of the setting sun. After their initial astonishment the men sat in stunned silence, absorbing his
words like bread soaking in grease. Such heavy news took time to comprehend; it could not be digested
in a few seconds.

“I have now received that vision,” the prince continued, “and it is an onerous one. Ironically, the magical
manifestation that saved us from the brigands was Aeshma, king of the daevas, the personification of
Rimahn on earth. He was released from the captivity in which he'd been held since his great battle with
King Shahriyan many ages ago; we suspect the thief who stole the urn from the Temple of the Faith
escaped the city disguised as a member of our party. The blessed lord Oromasd himself must have been
looking after us, for I can think of no other reason why we were spared when Aeshma destroyed our
enemies.

“Regardless of how we escaped, we know that evil incarnate is loose upon the world. Aeshma will
waste no time gathering the daevas into an army to eradicate humankind. As servants of Oromasd, it is
our sacred duty to oppose the forces of Rimahn and defeat the tide of evil that threatens to overwhelm
us."

The prince's handsome face took on an expression of solemn determination as he spoke. “The prophet's
vision was that I and the wizard Jafar al-Sharif must recover the pieces of the Crystal of Oromasd and
unite the armies of mankind to fight in the battle against Rimahn that is sure to come. This responsibility I
accept, though the effort may be beyond me and I may die in the attempt.

“But the prophet's vision was for me. I speak now about the fate of you who have served me so
faithfully. Though I carry the title of prince, I have no kingdom and can control no allegiances. I cannot
and will not force any man to follow me to my fate. I hereby release you from any and all oaths of loyalty
you made to me in happier times. No man of you is bound to the uncertain course of my destiny."

There was a long silence in the gathering twilight as the men pondered the prince's pronouncement. Then
one bold servant spoke up from the back of the crowd near the fauwara. “But we've lost our homes and
families in Ravan,” he said, his voice choking with emotion. “If we lose you, where will we go, what will
we do?"

“I have thought long and hard about your welfare,” Prince Ahmad assured him. “It is not right for a