"Robert E. Howard - Conan - Shadows in the Moonlight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Howard Robert E)

beating up the reed-brakes, searching for just such fugitives as I. I've squirmed and burrowed and
hidden like a snake, feasting on musk-rats I caught and ate raw, for lack of fire to cook them.
This dawn I found this boat hidden among the reeds. I hadn't intended going out on the sea until
night, but after I killed Shah Amurath, I knew his mailed dogs would be close at hand."
"And what now?"
"We shall doubtless be pursued. If they fail to see the marks left by the boat, which I
covered as well as I could, they'll guess anyway that we took to sea, after they fail to find us
among the marshes. But we have a start, and I'm going to haul at these oars until we reach a safe
place."
"Where shall we find that?" she asked hopelessly. "Vilayet is an Hyrkanian pond."
"Some folk don't think so," grinned Conan grimly; "notably the slaves that have escaped from
galleys and become pirates."
"But what are your plans?"
"The southwestern shore is held by the Hyrkanians for hundreds of miles. We still have a long
way to go before we pass beyond their northern boundaries. I intend to go northward until I think
we have passed them. Then we'll turn westward, and try to land on the shore bordered by the
uninhabited steppes."
"Suppose we meet pirates, or a storm?" she asked. "And we shall starve on the steppes."
"Well," he reminded her, "I didn't ask you to come with me."
"I am sorry." She bowed her shapely dark head. "Pirates, storms, starvation - they are all
kinder than the people of Turan."
"Aye." His dark face grew somber. "I haven't done with them yet. Be at ease, girl. Storms are
rare on Vilayet at this rime of year. If we make the steppes, we shall not starve. I was reared in
a naked land. It was those cursed marshes, with their stench and stinging flies, that nigh
unmanned me. I am at home in the high lands. As for pirates--" He grinned enigmatically, and bent
to the oars.
The sun sank like a dull-glowing copper ball into a lake of fire. The blue of the sea merged
with the blue of the sky, and both turned to soft dark velvet, clustered with stars and the
mirrors of stars. Olivia reclined in the bows of the gently rocking boat, in a state dreamy and
unreal. She experienced an illusion that she was floating in midair, stars beneath her as well as
above. Her silent companion was etched vaguely against the softer darkness. There was no break or
falter in the rhythm of his oars; he might have been a fantasmal oarsman, rowing her across the
dark lake of Death. But the edge of her fear was dulled, and, lulled by the monotony of motion,
she passed into a quiet slumber.
Dawn was in her eyes when she awakened, aware of a ravenous hunger. It was a change in the
motion of the boat that had roused her; Conan was resting on his oars, gazing beyond her. She
realized that he had rowed all night without pause, and marvelled at his iron endurance. She
twisted about to follow his stare, and saw a green wall of trees and shrubbery rising from the
water's edge and sweeping away in a wide curve, enclosing a small bay whose waters lay still as
blue glass.
"This is one of the many islands that dot this inland sea," said Conan. "They are supposed to
be uninhabited. I've heard tbe Hyrkanians seldom visit them. Besides, they generally hug the
shores in their galleys, and we have come a long way. Before sunset we were out of sight of the
mainland."



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