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

All the preliminaries had been concluded before their arrival and now matters went swiftly. The
bound girl was tossed roughly onto the stone-capped oak stump. She lay writhing and contorting in a
frenzy, sliding and rolling to the edge of the stump in a mindless effort to escape. The Drus, ringing the
stump now, pushed her roughly back to the center.
They were chanting again, a soft, nearly whispered chant that held the sound of death. The Drus
locked hands and began to move slowly around the stump in counter-clockwise movement.
"Mother of Frigga," said Taleen beside him. "I think I know that girl. I am sure of it. It is one of
Lycanto's serving maids. More than a serving maid, if the gossip be true. Frigga preserve me—there is
more here than I can understand."
The moving circle of Drus parted for a moment and the High Priestess came through. She carried the
golden sword in both hands as she slowly approached the stump. She moved with great dignity and
poise, her face concealed by the cowl, and she carried the great sword as easily as she would a toy.
Blade could not deny his fascination; this was a nightmare from which there was no waking.
The High Priestess leaped agilely atop the stump. The movement was graceful, flowing, and not that
of an old woman. The cowl, unsecured by the sudden movement, fluttered back and away from the
woman's face. Blade caught his breath.
"By Frigga's breasts," said Taleen at his side. "That is not Nubis. She is a stranger. I do not know
her."
 The High Priestess did not bother to replace her cowl. She threw back her head and raised the
golden sword in both hands, holding it high, imploring benediction from the black dome of sky. She
began to intone a prayer softly, her lips barely moving.
Blade felt as if the golden sword had been driven into his own heart. He had never seen anything like
this woman. With the masking cowl removed it was like seeing beauty emerge from a dungeon, and he
guessed that the white robe also lied about the body beneath it. Her hair was a cloud of silver, the face a
perfect heart with a thick cream skin. Her mouth was wide, moist and tender, and superbly drawn in
scarlet, the nose beautifully straight and haughty, the eyes wide set and narrowed now as she lowered the
sword and gazed down at the writhing victim.
Taleen was right, Blade thought. He was a fool. Otherwise he would not be thinking what he was
thinking—that any woman so lovely could not be a murderess in cold blood. Fool indeed. Heknew
better. He had not been born yesterday. He still retained enough of his memory to recall what his former
world had been like, and certainly nothing had changed in Alb. Quite the contrary.
And yet he did not believe it, really believe it, until he saw it done.
The High Priestess raised the sword high above the cringing girl. She held it with both hands on the
golden hilt, point down, and she smiled around at the Drus. There was total silence now, but for the
muffled sounds of the terrified girl. The High Priestess smiled again. Her teeth sparkled like nacre against
blood. Sweat stung Blade's eyes.
She brought the sword down with tremendous force and drove it into the girl's heart. Blade would
not have attributed the strength to that slim body. The point drove on through the flesh and beating heart
and grated against the stone capping of the stump. The naked victim, impaled on the golden blade,
writhed and heaved in death agonies. Blood covered the heavy breasts and crept across the stone. The
body stopped jerking and was still.
For a moment the High Priestess remained standing astride her victim. Her head was bowed now,
her arms hung at her sides, and her manner was listless and depleted. She swayed and for a moment
Blade thought she would fall, then she straightened and looked about her. Her eyes swept the silent circle
of Drus and, for a long moment, lingered on the thicket where Blade and Taleen were concealed. He
could not discern their color, and it was impossible that she knew of their presence, yet Blade felt the
intensity of those eyes and something rippled cold along his spine.
Then it was over. She replaced her cowl, could once more have been a spry old woman, and leaped
down from the stump. Without a word or gesture she stalked away from the crowd of Drus and
disappeared into the trees on the far side of the glade.