"Jeffrey Lord - Blade 01 - The Bronze Axe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lord Jeffery)

the body. "Not that it would have made a lot of difference that I can see. She did try to kill me. What
would you have me do—wear that trinket in my heart?" He kicked the golden dagger to one side.
Taleen did not look at him, nor at the corpse. But she picked up the dagger and wiped it clean on a
clump of grass. "I need a weapon now. So that when we are taken I can kill myself before the torture
begins."
She tugged at his hand. "Come, Blade. If we run for our lives now, at once, there may still be a
chance. Only hurry! There will be other sentries about."
Blade shook her hand away. He gazed moodily at the corpse, brooding. His jaw was set. J would
have recognized the look, and have accepted it with resignation.
Blade gazed toward the fire and the chanting. "I have come this far, Princess Taleen. I will go on. I
must know about these Drus and their Mysteries. And you have not yet answered my question—how
many of them are women?"
"All of them," said Taleen quietly. "I did not mention it because I did not think it was important. You
are not only a stranger, Blade, you arestrange. How did I know that you would be fool enough to spy
on the Drus? No one else in all of Alb is that much of a fool—but then I keep forgetting that you are not
of Alb."
Blade ignored that. "You say all the Drus are women? No men at all? It is an order of priestesses
then?"
Not, then, so formidable after all. He should be able to handle a gaggle of women, probably all of
them elderly, who ran about in white robes and chanted weird songs. And yet—he glanced at the golden
dagger now tucked into Taleen's girdle. The old crone had come at him in a very businesslike manner.
The girl, cajoling now, said, "You are very interested in the Drus, Blade. I will tell you all about
them—if only you will come away with me. Now. While there is yet time. For me, at least.Youwill never
be safe now. You have killed a Dru. They never forget and they will look for you always. You are going
to have to trust me a great deal, Blade."
Taleen did not try to conceal the malice in her tones. She gave him a sly smile. "I said before that I
would have you whipped, Blade. I did not really mean it. But now I have your very life in my
power—and I do mean that. One word from me and you are a dead man."
Blade did not look at her. He plunged the sword into the earth to clean it. Only then did he glance
from the sword to Taleen and back at the sword again.
She narrowed her eyes and tilted her chin high. "Do not try to frighten me, Blade. It will not work. I
know you well enough already to know that you will not kill me."
His grin mocked her. "Yes, I admit it. You know me that well. But you forget something—youare
also involved.Youare here now. Who will believe it was not all your idea, your doing, this spying and the
killing of a Dru? I am a very credible liar when I want to be."
Taleen glared at him, then fell into a pout. She muttered something he did not understand and again
signed across her breasts with her right hand. "Frigga save me from the Drus—and you. I begin to wish I
had never met you."
It was a sentiment that Blade was beginning to share. Yet he needed her, badly needed her, as a
guide and mentor in this strange land of Alb—curse Lord Leighton and his confounded computer—but
he was beginning to see the Princess Taleen for what she was. Beautiful, desirable, and absolutely not to
be trusted. A wild child, capricious as the wind, a lovely little barbarian Princess whose only guide was
her own willfulness. Blade had spoken boldly just now, had blunted her spleen for the moment, but he
knew that he must watch her constantly from this moment on. She was unpredictable.
So he scowled at her and spoke more harshly than he felt. She was not to blame for what she was.
"I go to have a look at these Drus," he said. "Come with me or stay. It is all one to me."
He began to move cautiously toward the red eye of the fire. He did not look back. Presently he
heard her stumble over a root and mutter something to Frigga that was more a curse than a prayer. When
he sank to his belly in a thicket, with the fire and the chanting and dancing Drus in plain view, she was
beside him. Strangely enough, once the thing was done, she whispered, her soft mouth close against his