"Stephen Lawhead - Pendragon Cycle 05 - Grail" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lawhead Stephen)

a deep, rock-rimmed bowl. I made my way to the water's edge and looked
in, but could not see the bottom.
A grey rock rose from the far end of the basin like a great squatting toad. I
heard the slow rhythmic drip, drip, drip of water splashing from the rock
into the dark water.
'You see?" whispered Rhys. 'It is just as I told you.'
'It is an unlovely place, to be sure,' I replied. 'But I find nothing amiss
here.'
'No,' he answered after a moment's silence. 'Nor do I. Whatever was here
is gone now.' He turned pleading eyes to me. 'There was something.'
'I believe you, brother.'
He turned away, stricken afresh. 'I remember now - it was... it was - ' His
jaw worked as he struggled for words. 'I was suffocating - as if a hand
clenched my throat. I could not breathe. My lungs felt as if they would
burst. I remember thinking I must breathe or I will die. And then... nothing
-until I saw the moon's reflection there.' He pointed to the centre of the
rock bowl and looked up through the branches of the trees as if he thought
he might see the moon once more.
I also raised my eyes and scanned the leafy bower above us. The branches
of the close-grown trees wove a dense roof over the pool; not a scrap of
blue sky showed through anywhere.
Rhys shifted uneasily beside me. 'On my life, Gwalchavad,' he said softly,
'I thought it was the moon.' He paused. 'I saw something glowing in the
water, I swear it!'
'Did you say that you had tasted the water?' I asked and, kneeling, cupped
my hand and dipped out some water. I raised it to my nose and sniffed, but
could smell nothing unusual. I put my hand to my lips and wet my tongue.
The water was warm and tasted slightly muddy, but not at all bad for that.
'What say you?' Rhys watched me closely.
'I have tasted worse,' I replied.
Rhys squatted beside me and reached out to cup some water. As he did so,
I observed a strange mark on the fleshy part of his upper arm. 'What is
this?' I wondered. 'A wound?'
The skin was broken and discoloured - pierced by what appeared to be
small pricks at regular intervals.
'It looks like a bite,' I remarked. 'An animal of some kind. A dog, perhaps?'
Rhys looked stricken. 'I remember no bite.'
'Well,' I said, 'it is not so bad. No doubt you have forgotten.'
'Gwalchavad,' Rhys said, his voice thick, 'I would know if I were bitten by
a dog.' He craned his neck and held his arm to look at the wound. 'I would
remember.'
Once, when I was but a lad, my brother, Gwalcmai, and I had found a cave
and entered to find a sleeping bear. I still remember the awful sick dread
that overwhelmed me as I heard the slow, snuffling breath, saw the black,
shapeless mass of fur, and realized that we had stumbled into a death trap
unawares.
I felt the same feeling now: as if we had intruded on something better left
undisturbed.
Glancing around quickly, I stood. 'Let us fill the water casks and leave this
place.'