"Laurell K. Hamilton - Ravenloft - Death of a Darklord" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hamilton Laurell K)

the room. He always entered a room as if it were his very own private chamber, as if everywhere he
went he carried his own kingdom in a circle around his body, so that he was always at home, always at
ease. His shirt was white silk, covered by a scarlet vest with gold embroidery. His pants were also
scarlet, stuffed into gleaming black boots. A basket-hiked sword rode his hip. A matching scarlet hat
dangled from one hand, complete with a sweeping black feather. Rings glittered from his long fingers.
“Well, Calum, what do you think of your young friend now?” His voice was a rich tenor that held
something of the music he made his living from. Calum lay on his back now, pillows cradling him so that
he could only stare at the man. “Have you come to whisper more lies in my ears?” “Not lies, my friend,
promises.”

“What do you want of me, Harkon?”

“Your help.” Harkon Lukas laid his hat on the foot of the bed and leaned against the bedpost.

“I cannot betray my friends.”

Harkon smiled, even white teeth flashing in his dark face. “I have given you my word that none of the
others will be harmed. I want only Konrad Burn.” “Why him?”

Harkon shrugged, a somehow graceful gesture in the tall man. “He is handsome, young, strong. He can
travel beyond the boundaries of Kartakass. You can’t tell me as a bard you have not longed to escape
this prison, to travel the lands your friend Jonathan and his gypsy woman have told you of. The songs I
could sing. The tales to be told. Think of it, Calum.”

“But to possess his body? What becomes of Konrad when you are inside him?” “He will get my body.”
Harkon glided round the bed. Calum could only move his eyes to follow the bard.

“Don’t you think my body a fair trade for his?” Calum did. It was a strong, healthy body. “If you truly
command some . . . sorcery that will switch your body with Konrad’s, but not harm him, why not ask
him? Why not gain his cooperation?”

“Do you really think he would agree? Our angry, honor-bound Konrad?”

“Would anyone agree?”

Harkon sat on the edge of the bed. The slight movement caused Calum to gasp. “Oh, my friend,”
Harkon said, “did my sitting down hurt you?” He leaned forward, face concerned.

Calum did not want the man to touch him. He knew the concerned looks would fade instantly, chased
by whatever new emotion entered Harkon’s mind. He was as changeable as a spring wind, and as
reliable.

Harkon’s hand fell back into his lap. He smiled down at Calum. “I have found a body for you. A man in
his twenties. Tall, strong, in perfect health, handsome. He is a little shorter than you were in your prime,
more slender, perhaps a shade more handsome, though.”

To be young again, with his whole life ahead of him, but with the knowledge of a lifetime. To leave his
pain-ridden body behind. To live. It was a tempting offer, and Harkon knew that. Why make it
otherwise? Calum licked his lips. “And what happens to this young man if I take his body?”