"Roland Green - Conan and the Mists of Doom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Green Roland)

estate.

Long-legged and unburdened save for a shirt of fine Vendhyan mail and an

open-faced helm of Nemedian style, Muhbaras had reached the cleft well ahead of

his column. Now he turned back to watch it mount the slope, and to count heads

for straggling or desertion. Small fear of the latter, when all went in fear of

the Lady of the Mists, who could see to the edge of the world, but there were

always fools in any company.

One could hardly tell bandits from Khorajans or nomads; all wore the same robes

and headdress, sand-hued or dirty white, with boots and belts of camel's hide

and a curved sword and dagger thrust into the belts. Some among each folk

carried bows and quivers, but a keen-eyed man would have quickly seen that the
bows were unstrung and the quivers bound tightly shut with leather thongs.

No man approached the entrance to the Valley of the Mists with ready arrows or

strung bow. Not without the Lady's consent, and thus far that consent had not

been forthcoming.

What had been forthcoming were harsh punishments for those who flouted the

Lady's will. Punishments so dire, indeed, that those who had suffered them might

have gladly changed places with the captives in the middle of the column. Their

death would have been no less unclean, under the Lady's magic, but it would have

been swifter and far less painful.

There were ten of the captives, bound into a single file by stout thongs about

their waists. Their hands and feet were free, which meant vigilance by their

guards, as the Lady misliked pursuing escapers with her spells, lest this

endanger her secrets. There was hardly any choice, however, as no man with hands

bound could mount the slopes here. Nor could a band of this size carry many