"Eric van Lustbader - Sunset Warrior 1 - The Sunset Warrior" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lustbader Eric van)

Boots sounded in the surgery and two figures filled the doorway of the inner
cubicle as
Ronin and Stahlig turned to look. They did not enter the room. They wore
identical grey
uniforms with three daggers held in scabbards attached to black leather straps
buckled obliquely
across their chests: Security daggam. Both had short, dark hair and even
features; faces one would
never look at twice, faces one would have to study closely to remember.
'Stahlig?' said one. He had a crisp, clear voice.
'Yes?'
'Your presence is required. Please pack your healing bag and come with us.' He
handed
Stahlig a folded sheet. The other one did absolutely nothing except watch
them. Both his hands
were free. Stahlig read the sheet.
'Freidal himself,' he murmured. 'Most impressive.' He looked up. 'Of course I
shall come, but
you must tell me something of the nature of the summons. I must know what to
bring.'
'Bring everything.' The daggam eyed Ronin suspiciously.
'That is quite impossible,' said Stahlig impatiently.
'I am his assistant. You may speak freely in front
of me,' said Ronin. The daggam's eyes swung darkly upon him, then back to
Stahlig.
The Medicine Man nodded. 'Yes, he is helping me.'
'A Magic Man,' the daggam said slowly, reluctantly, 'has gone mad. We have
been forced to
restrain him - for his own safety as well as the safety of others. He had
already wantonly attacked
his Teck. But his health seems to be failing, and -'
Stahlig was already busy cramming phials and paraphernalia into a worn leather
bag. Seeing
this, the daggam stopped, and instead of finishing his thought he stared
stonily at Ronin.
'You are no assistant,' he said icily. 'You carry a sword. You are a
Bladesman. Explain.'
Stahlig ceased to fill his bag but remained with his back to them. That does
not help, Ronin
thought.
'Yes, of course I am a Bladesman, but as you can see I am unaffiliated and so
have much free
time. So I help the Medicine Man from time to time.'
Stahlig finished filling his bag. He turned. 'All set,' he said. 'Lead the
way.' He looked at
Ronin. 'You had better accompany me.'
Ronin stared at the daggam. 'It would certainly relieve the boredom.'
The Corridor swept away from them in a smooth, gently curving arc. The walls
were painted a
grey that at one time had been uniform; now, through years of wear and