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

Terrel shook his head, not sure what the question meant.
'That's a long way to travel on foot,' the carter observed. 'You look leg-weary already.' 'I'm used to it.'
'A wanderer like me!' The sudden smile transformed the man's face, and made him seem much younger, more handsome. Even the curve of his back and the droop of his shoulders had gone now, so that he appeared taller. Terrel stared in amazement, wondering what had sparked such a change.
'My name is Babak,' the traveller said. 'It means-'
'The king,' Terrel completed for him.
Babak was obviously impressed.
'So you're familiar with the old tongue.'
'Is that your real name?'
The other man laughed.
'My parents were obviously prescient,' he said. 'I am king of my trade.'
'I am called Terrel.'
'Ah.' Babak nodded as if this meant something significant to him. 'No wonder you've taken up the life of a wayfarer.'
Terrel wanted to ask what he meant, but he had more pressing needs.
'I am a traveller, but not from choice,' he admitted, 'and I have no experience of this country. Which way should I go for Betancuria?'
'That depends on whether you want the shortest or the fastest route.'
'They're not the same?'
'That way,' Babak replied, nodding towards the left-hand fork, 'will take you almost directly towards Betancuria, but it leads through the mountains and it's harsh country, even for a seasoned traveller. This road, on the other hand, takes you out of your way, but it's an easier route and there will be more opportunities to make the journey a little more comfortable as you go. Best of all, if your feet are sore, you can ride with me.' He patted the other side of the wooden bench on which he sat.
'You would take me with you?' Terrel asked, unused to such generosity.
'Why not? It costs me nothing, and any man familiar with the old tongue must be worth talking to. I'm usually alone, as you can see, and conversation is welcome. What do you say?'
'You don't find me . . . off-putting?'
'Eyes in themselves aren't important,' Babak replied. 'It's how we see the world that matters.'
'Most of our countrymen would not agree,' Terrel said.
The carter laughed.
'Superstition can be dangerous,' he conceded. 'The trick is to turn it to your own advantage. I can show you how, if you like.'
This sounded too good to be true, but Babak seemed genuine enough, and Terrel's suspicions were fading.
'Is conversation all you want of me in return?' He could not think of any ulterior motive for the offer.
'Oh, we'll find a way for you to earn your keep,' Babak said breezily. 'From the look of you, I'd wager you could do with a decent meal or two and a proper bed to sleep in tonight.'
Terrel could not deny the truth of that. Just the thought of it was filling him with longing - and brought the doubts back. How could he possibly earn such rewards?
'Accept a little kindness from a fellow wanderer,' the other man went on, smiling again. 'You can always walk away, whenever you want.'
Terrel made up his mind at last, telling himself that it would be stupid to reject such an offer, even if he could not fathom the motives behind it. He climbed up and sat beside Babak, who flicked the reins at once. The donkey, who had remained perfectly still - as if it were a matter of supreme indifference whether it stood or moved - began to trudge down the right-hand fork.
Now that Terrel was alongside him, Babak seemed to shrink once more, to become the bent and weather-beaten figure the boy had first seen. It was a peculiar and unnerving transformation. They rode in silence for a while, and when the carter finally spoke, even his voice seemed a pale imitation of the one he had used to greet Terrel.
'There are more people leaving Betancuria than going to it,' he remarked. 'You've heard the rumours, of course?' 'Some of them.'
'So the monster doesn't bother you?' 'I doubt it's as bad as the gossips would have us believe,' Terrel replied, thinking back to his conversation with the ghosts.
'You're probably right,' Babak said, chuckling, 'but when you hear that one of the miners who got too close vanished completely, right in front of his companions, and another . . . well, all they found of him was a few smears of blood and grease on the tunnel walls ... it makes you wonder. I've heard it said it can turn a man's blood to stone or boil it into steam. Even if the tales are exaggerated, it sounds like they've got something pretty nasty down there. I wouldn't want to meet it.'
'Me neither,' Terrel said heavily, horrified by these more specific accounts of the supposed atrocities. He could only hope they were exaggerated, and that Alyssa was a better judge than the rumour-mongers.
'So why are you heading that way?' Babak asked.
'There's someone there I have to talk to.'
The traveller glanced at him curiously.
'That doesn't sound like much of a reason.'
'It's important,' Terrel replied awkwardly.
'Suit yourself. I can be a nosy old bastard, I know that. You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to.' He paused, obviously hoping that the boy would volunteer something more. When he didn't, Babak altered his approach. 'Most people who are running away just want to leave somewhere behind,' he remarked ingenuously. 'They don't usually have somewhere in mind to run to.'
'What makes you think I'm running away?'
'Free men don't usually have tattoos like that.'
Terrel glanced at his hand, seeing that the circles hardly showed through the dirt. Since he had left the immediate vicinity of Havenmoon, no one had even commented on it - and he had begun to think it was unimportant.
'I don't miss much,' Babak added, grinning. 'I've only ever seen something like that on slaves, lunatics and criminals - and you don't strike me as the criminal type. You wouldn't be worth much as a slave, and there are more sane people in the madhouses now than there are loonies. So it doesn't matter much to me which it is. I'm just nosy, like I said.'
'I was in a madhouse,' Terrel admitted.
'You seem sane enough to me.'
'I am. At least I think I am. It was probably because of the way I look.'
'Probably,' Babak agreed. 'Were you released, or did you escape?'
Terrel hesitated for a few moments, but saw no point in lying.