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

'She's a witch,' he breathed.
For a while no one spoke, and for the first time they all saw that the girl was not dead. Her chest rose and fell, almost imperceptibly, but otherwise she lay motionless, her eyes closed.
'We ought to get her out of here,' Barca said.
'I'm not going near that mad witch,' his companion answered quickly.
'Then we'll get one of the loonies to do it,' Barca decided, his own reluctance obvious.
Terrel, who had been watching all this with wildly fluctuating emotions, came forward quickly when the soldier beckoned to him. It seemed to him that there was an unnatural darkness around Alyssa, a shadow that masked her from the world and, in spite of his longing to see that she was all right, he felt nervous as he approached. His skin tingled, and blood pounded in his head, but nothing untoward happened as he knelt beside his friend and took her gently in his arms. She felt cool and soft to the touch, but her breathing was so slow and shallow that it hardly seemed enough to sustain her. The pulse at her neck was equally faint, and she was obviously deeply unconscious.
'Alyssa,' he whispered. 'Alyssa, wake up.'
There was no response. Wherever she had gone, she was beyond his reach. Terrel consoled himself with the fact that at least she was still alive.
'What's going on here?' Aylor demanded as he strode into the chamber.
The soldiers all snapped to attention, but no one answered.
'Barca, stay where you are. The rest of you get back to work. Now!' The captain waited while his men hurried to obey, then turned back to the one who remained. 'Well, soldier?'
Barca gave a brief, halting description of the strange events that had taken place in the gallery. His commanding officer's evident disbelief was only overcome when he was shown Keth's sword embedded in the wall.
'Keth paid for his stupidity, didn't he,' Aylor concluded, glancing down at the dead man's bloodied face, and noting that his chest seemed to have caved in, as if it had been crushed by a great weight. 'Detail some men to bury him.'
'Yes, sir. What about the girl?'
'She needs a healer,' Terrel blurted out from where he knelt, still cradling Alyssa's head in his arms.
Aylor laughed.
'No healer's going to waste his time on her.'
'Some of the men think she's a witch, sir,' Barca said nervously.
'I doubt she poses much of a threat,' the Head Warden replied, smiling. 'But just so you can all sleep easier in your beds tonight, have her locked in one of the dungeons. She can starve to death for all I care.'
That night Terrel lay awake long into the hours of darkness. He could not stop his thoughts from returning to Alyssa and the hopelessness he had felt when the solid prison door had been closed upon her small, huddled form.
Finding a strength he had not known he possessed, he had carried her limp body from the hall and into the dungeons. His pleas to be allowed to stay with her had fallen on deaf ears and, as soon as she had been incarcerated, he had been forced back to work. By the end of the day he had been exhausted, his limbs stiff and sore, but even now - hours later - sleep would not come.
Who or what had saved Alyssa from Keth's murderous attack? Had it been her ghosts? And why had she fallen into a coma, even though she had not been injured? Her life had always been touched by madness, but now it also seemed to have been affected by some form of magic. And yet little good had apparently come of it. Aylor intended simply to leave her to her fate, and she could surely not survive for very long alone in that damp, dark cell. The thought of Alyssa dying slowly in that friendless void tore at Terrel's heart. He wanted to lash out, to shout and scream against this latest injustice. And yet what could he do? Even if he was able to steal the key, evade the guards and get to her side, she would still be beyond his reach. She was trapped somewhere, in a world of her own - and Terrel could only hope that it was a better world than the one he inhabited.
He could not imagine his life without her, and began to weep at the very thought.
By the time morning came Terrel, who had not slept at all, was in a terrible state. But he had pushed self-pity aside, and had resolved to save Alyssa or die trying. Although he didn't yet know what he was going to do, he was determined not to stand idly by and let her life waste away in silence.
He had noticed that her dungeon cell had a tiny barred window near the ceiling, which must look out from the base of the haven's northern wall. Although it was far too small to present any possibility of escape - even if the bars could somehow be removed - it would at least allow him to see her, to talk to her, perhaps pass her food and water if she recovered consciousness. He would also find out all he could about her gaolers' routines, to see whether it might be possible to gain access to her cell. Then, if one of the travelling physicians who periodically visited Havenmoon could be persuaded to ...
His thoughts were interrupted by the turnkey opening the door of his own, comparatively comfortable cell, and rousing him and his roommates. As he levered his aching body from the bed, his head swam from lack of sleep.
The day passed in a haze of exhaustion. The clearance of the north wing was progressing faster now, and Terrel was forced to witness the total destruction of the contents of the library. Although he was sickened by the appalling waste, Alyssa's plight had put the conflagration into perspective. As Elam had pointed out, they were only books.
It was only at the end of the afternoon, when the promised arrival of yet more prisoners reduced the proceedings to near chaos, that Terrel was able to slip away and find the window to Alyssa's cell. His eyes took a few moments to adjust to the gloom inside and when they did he saw, to his dismay, that she still lay exactly where he had placed her on the cold floor. There was no reaction when he called her name, and it was only after staring at her for some time that Terrel was finally able to convince himself that she was still breathing. By then he had been spotted by one of the soldiers and ordered back to work.
'I haven't forgotten you, Alyssa,' he told her before he stood up. 'I'll get you out of there, I promise.'
In all the years he had known her, Terrel had never once dreamt about Alyssa. But that night, when he collapsed onto his pallet, too tired even to undress, he felt her presence at once. Sleep claimed him, and she slept beside him. There was warmth and comfort in her closeness, a peacefulness in her slow breathing that calmed his fears and let him rest. He understood. Terrel smiled in his sleep.

Chapter Twelve

'You're going to trust in a dream?' Elam exclaimed.
'Dreams are sometimes meant to show us things",' Terrel quoted. 'Alyssa said that herself.'
'But how do you know this one did? Don't you think it might just have been wishful thinking?'
The comfort Terrel had felt during the night - and which had still been there when he awoke - was slowly dissipating in the face of Elam's persistent scepticism. But he needed to cling to the hope that the dream had been a message.
'She heard my promise,' he said obstinately. 'She's going to be all right.'
'I hope you're right,' Elam responded, his own doubts clear.
The two boys were once again part of the team clearing the disused rooms. They were both very weary but, because Aylor was overseeing the operation that morning, the soldiers kept them under almost constant supervision and there was no chance of rest. Even when Elam suffered another bout of dizziness - something that had been happening occasionally ever since his fall - he was forced to struggle on. The task seemed endless and, for once, they were glad when Ahmeza came and commandeered their help. For the next hour they took turns drawing water from the well so that the kitchen could continue with the thankless job of providing food and drink for the expanded population. Ahmeza still gave the impression of being angry with everyone and everything around her, but now she seemed subdued as she went about her business. Because her store cupboards, vegetable garden and orchards were already much depleted, she had made arrangements for supplies to be sent in from the nearest villages in order to make up the shortfall. Her resentment at being forced to do this was palpable.
While they were in the kitchens Terrel managed to steal a few scraps of food, hoping to be able to take them to Alyssa later. He even managed to escape briefly and made his way down into the dungeons, hoping to reach her cell, but was forced to turn back when he encountered some of Aylor's men. As he fled, he almost ran into two of the captain's deputies, but they were deep in conversation and paid him no attention as he stepped to one side.
'This is ridiculous. How are we supposed to cope with so many? This place isn't even a proper gaol. Security's hopeless.'
'I know. The old man's going crazy. He's even decided to clean out some building up at the necropolis and use it to lock away troublemakers.'
'Moons! I hope I don't get that assignment. The place is supposed to be haunted.'
The two men went on their way, still complaining, but Terrel had already heard enough. He crept back to the kitchens and joined Elam again.
'We have to go back to the observatory,' he whispered. 'Are you crazy?'' his friend exclaimed. 'We have to,' Terrel repeated. 'Aylor's going to have it cleaned out and use it as a prison.' 'So?' 'So they'll burn all Muzeni's journals. We can't let that happen.'
'Why not?' Even as he spoke, Elam knew the answer. He had seen how badly the loss of the library had affected Terrel.
'Because they're priceless. And besides, I made a promise.'
'What promise?'
'To Muzeni.'