"Dennis L. McKiernan - Hell's Crucible 2 - Into the Fire" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKiernan Dennis L)

thou doth take a bath, keep thine eyes open, else thou mayest once
again have thy splendor revealed.
Tipperton laughed, his breath puffing white in the brumal air.
Beau looked at him. "What?"
Tip shook his head. "Oh, nothing."
And on they trudged, now and again coming across the bodies of
Foul Folk who had died of wounds sustained in the battle before the
gates of Mineholt North, wounds which ultimately proved fatal during
the retreat as the Horde had fled. Yet they could not say how many
other dead Rupt they had unknowingly passed hidden beneath the snow.
 Early on the nineteenth of December the road they followed entered
Daelwood, a wide forest in Riamon. Frost covered the stark limbs of the
wintering trees, the boughs barren and hard.
"Oh my," said Beau, as they wended through the desolate wood,
"but with the branches scraping at the sky, well, it reminds me somewhat
of Drearwood."
"Nay, my friend," said Phais. "Dhruousdarda is an evil tangle;
Arindarda is not."
Beau frowned. "Arindarda? —Oh, you mean Daelwood."
"Aye."
Tipperton nodded. "I agree. There was an evil air to Drearwood,
whereas here there is none." Then he turned to Phais. "I say: Arindarda:
doesn't that mean, urn, Ringwood?"
"Aye, it does. Once nearly all of the land within the ring of the
Rimmen Mountains was covered with this forest, but men have hewn it
down until but a remnant remains."
"Goodness," said Tip, shaking his head as he remembered the rolling
plains he had scouted with Vail, "what a loss."
On they fared within the forest, and late in the day they crossed an
ice-covered stone bridge above a frozen tributary of the Ironwater
River. On the far side, the road swung southeastward, following along
the stream.
"We'll camp here at the turn," said Bekki, glancing through bleak
limbs at the cheerless sun.
"How much farther to Dael?" asked Beau, dismounting.
"Ten leagues and one mile minus some paces will bring us to the city
walls," replied Bekki, loosening the cinch strap on his shag-haired pony.
"Barn rats," groaned Beau. "I was hoping we'd get to an inn
tomorrow, but it looks more like two days, eh?"
Bekki turned and shook his head. "Not quite. Even with this snow
and ice, a day and a half should see us there."
Beau hauled the saddle from his pony. "A day and a half, Tip, and
then it's hot mulled wine and a bath for me."



Late the next day they came across a frozen man. With his cloak
wrapped 'round and his back to a tree, he sal next to the road. Snow
covered his feet and legs, and a white frost clung to him from the waist
up. His icy face was chalky, and his eyes were frozen shut.