"Gray, Julia - Guardian 01 - The Dark Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gray Julia)

'Listen, you scrawny bitch, my orders come directly from the Governor of Saefir Province, and I have all the authority I need to do anything I like here. And that includes stringing you up from a tree if necessary.'
'Then you and those hulking great brutes of yours had better learn to cook your own meals,' Ahmeza replied, undaunted by the threat.
'We'll do that if we have to,' he shot back, then appeared to have second thoughts. 'Just get on with your job, woman.'
'So you expect me to feed twice as many people with the same resources as before?' she demanded.
'You'll just have to be more efficient, won't you.'
'And now you tell me there's a whole load more coming tomorrow?'
'Yes. And they won't be the last,' he snarled. 'Shall I tell you what's happening? Shall I?' His vehemence had finally cowed Ahmeza, and she said nothing. 'The Dark Moon's not where it's supposed to be,' Aylor stated angrily. 'So every idiot who doesn't know that is breaking the law without even realizing it. And our revered Governor has instructed his magistrates to play it safe. They're condemning anyone who violates a taboo with the Dark Moon in its new position and those who would have done so if the damned thing was in the right place. And they're all coming here. Now do you understand?'
'I still can't do the impossible,' the cook responded, but she spoke more quietly now.
'If you can't do your job,' the captain told her bluntly, 'I'll find someone who can.'
By then Terrel and Elam were moving forward again, and they heard no more.
'What was all that about?' Elam asked.
'They don't know what to do,' Terrel replied, speaking as much to himself as to his friend, 'so they're making these people scapegoats.' He was dismayed by this confirmation of what Shahan had told him and of his own subsequent speculation.
They were outside now, and a soldier directed them to throw the table onto the large bonfire that was burning just-beyond the vegetable gardens. Smoke from another blaze at the front of the house drifted above the roof on the gentle breeze, making the already sultry air even harder to breathe.
Having completed their task, they were about to return for their next load when Terrel's attention was caught by some shutters being thrown open on the second floor. Moments later various objects were thrown out, so that they crashed to the ground below.
'Now why didn't we think of that?' Elam commented. 'It's an awful lot quicker than lugging stuff down the stairs.'
Terrel did not reply, his gaze fixed on some of the flying debris. A few of the smaller items seemed to flap and flutter like wounded birds and he knew, with a sinking heart, exactly what they were.
'What's the matter?' Elam asked.
'They've found the library,' Terrel whispered.
Already some of the books were being collected, carried over to the fire and unceremoniously dumped into the flames. He could hardly bear to watch.
I'd have thought you'd have read them all by now,' Elam remarked casually.
How can they? Terrel wondered miserably. How can they just destroy all that knowledge, all that learning, as if it means nothing? He could not believe that he would never be able to return to his sanctuary and lose himself in the wisdom of men from an earlier time.
'Come on,' Elam urged. 'They're only books.'
Terrel was about to respond, his sadness mixed with outrage, when all thoughts of the library and its doomed contents were driven instantly from his mind. A high-pitched scream echoed from within the house, followed by several angry shouts. Terrel had no idea who the man's voice belonged to, but the other one was immediately familiar.
As he began to run, Alyssa screamed again.

Chapter Eleven

Desperation lent Terrel a strength and agility he did not normally possess. Instinct as much as the sound of Alyssa's voice led him to a narrow hall beneath the ground floor of the north wing. Elam had tried to follow him but hadn't managed to evade the sentries at the kitchen door. Terrel had got inside, but he was brought to a halt as soon as he entered the vaulted chamber by a group of soldiers standing just inside the door. One of them simply thrust out an arm as Terrel tried to lurch past, and shoved him to the floor. When he looked up, he saw the men grinning as they watched one of their colleagues at the far end of the gallery. They were obviously looking forward to some entertainment - and when Terrel saw what they were watching, his heart froze.
Alyssa was backing away from the soldier. One side of her grey shift was ripped so that it hung off her bare shoulder, and there was a look of undisguised terror in her innocent eyes.
'Get away from me.'
'You little cat,' the man hissed, touching the scratches on his face, then inspecting the blood on his fingertips. 'You'll pay for that.'
As he advanced menacingly, Alyssa took another step back, only to find herself trapped against the wall. One of her hands came up briefly, trying in vain to rearrange her torn garment, and her attacker flinched.
'Come on, Keth!' one of his comrades called jovially. 'You afraid of a crack-brained girl?'
The man glanced round, scowling, and made an obscene gesture.
'Is this going to take all day?' another soldier asked, provoking more amusement. 'We're supposed to be on duty, you know.'
'Aye, Barca's right. The captain'll be here soon, and he don't like us wasting time.'
As Keth turned his attention back to Alyssa, Terrel tried to stand up, but he was pushed to his knees again and his protest died in his throat as Alyssa chose that moment to fight back. Her hand flicked out, like a snake striking, her fingers extended and stiff. She was evidently aiming for her assailant's eyes and, judging from his reaction, she found her target. Keth howled and staggered back, clutching at his face, while his colleagues roared with laughter.
Watching helplessly, Terrel could only admire her bravery, even as an icy fear still held him in its grip. The eventual outcome of the encounter seemed inevitable.
Keth's rage now far outweighed his lust, and he wrenched his sword from its scabbard. One of his eyes was shut, a mixture of blood and tears running down his cheek, but he was intent on murder nonetheless. Raising his sword, he lunged forward, swiping the blade in a vicious, downward arc.
'No!' Terrel screamed, struggling against the hand that still held him down. The next few moments seemed to last for an age, but even after it was all over, no one was able to describe what had happened. The light in the hall grew bright and then dimmed, as the air itself seemed to crackle. The stone walls shivered and moaned as the entire scene became a blur. Only the sword remained in focus, flashing with a light that came from nowhere as it began its deadly curve.
Quite how its course was diverted remained a mystery. One moment it was heading unerringly for Alyssa's unprotected throat, the next it was flying sideways, wrenched from the soldier's grip and striking the wall with a harsh grating sound. At the same time, even though she had not been touched, Alyssa collapsed in a dead faint and Keth, caught off balance by his weapon's aberrant behaviour, also fell to the floor.
Silence returned, and for a few incredulous heartbeats nobody moved. Then three soldiers ran forward. Two of them knelt by their fallen comrade, while Barca went to investigate Keth's sword. This was now sticking out of the wall, a part of its blade - the length of a man's forearm -embedded in solid rock. When Barca tried to reach for it, a bright blue spark jumped from the hilt and stung his fingers, making him cry out and jump back. When he found the courage to try again, he was able to grip the sword but could not move it. The steel was fused to the stone. He was so astonished by this extraordinary phenomenon that he had not noticed his companions' increasingly frantic efforts to revive Keth, but now their words registered. 'He's dead! The bitch killed him.'
'Well, it looks like she paid with her own life,' Barca replied, glancing over to where Alyssa lay, perfectly still. 'We'll make sure of that,' the other soldier growled venomously as he rose to his feet and drew his own sword. He
strode towards Alyssa, intent on avenging his comrade, but as he did so his blade flew out to the side and caught Barca a sharp blow on his kneecap.
'Hey, watch what you're doing!' he yelled.
'I didn't do anything,' the other man protested. 'Someone grabbed my arm.'
'And who was that? A ghost?'
'Something did. I swear.'
'Give me that,' Barca muttered. He grabbed the weapon and approached Alyssa, only to have the hilt almost torn from his grasp as an invisible force twisted the blade to one side.
Barca stopped, staring first at the sword, then at the seemingly lifeless girl.