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

"Is it one of the Horde?" asked Tip.
Bekki shook his head. "Nay, I think not. By his garb it looks more to
be a Daelsman. Caught in the storm, 1 deem."
"Aye," said Phais. "Though late in the storm, I would think. There is
little snow clinging unto him."
"It could have been blown away," said Tip.
Loric cocked an eyebrow. "Mayhap, though I ween the words of
Dara Phais more like to be true."
Beau finished his examination and turned to the others. "Well, he's
frozen through and through; there's nothing we can do for him now." He
looked at Bekki. "Maybe a pyre, for we won't be able to bury him in
this rock-hard winter ground."
Bekki shook his head. "Instead we'll report him to the town militia.
They will come with a wagon and bear him back to Dael. His kith need
to identify him and mourn him properly."
"What about Wolves or such," asked Tip, "won't they be likely to,
um—?"
"Nay, Tipperton," said Loric. "He is frozen solid and bears little
scent, and though the storm was four days past, nought has yet defiled
his remains. I deem he will stay untouched until the militia comes, unless
there is a warming."
"I'll see if there's anything on him to say just who he was," said Beau,
squatting down and prying open frozen pockets.
Tip frowned at this necessary yet rather grim business, but said
nought.
Beau moved to the other side and in moments stood and shook his
head.



Another mile down the road they found a frozen horse, one leg
broken.
"Hmm," mused Loric. "A mystery this."
"How so?" asked Tip.
"If this is the frozen man's horse, then he went onward instead of
turning back toward Dael."
"He might have been confused," said Beau. "Lost in the storm. Or so
chill that he had no wits."
"Mayhap," growled Bekki, "yet I think instead he was fleeing."
Tip's eyes widened. "Fleeing? Fleeing what?"
Bekki gestured at the animal. "See the frozen hair? Lather turned to
ice, I think. The horse mayhap was running when he broke a leg. And
who would run a horse on ice but a fleeing man? Too, its throat is not
cut, and so I ask, who would leave behind a broken-legged horse alive
and in pain? Someone fleeing, that's who. Someone running in panic."
 "Yes, but still you haven't answered Tip's question," said Beau.
"What was the man fleeing from?"
Bekki shrugged and looked southeasterly along the road and then
muttered, "Mayhap he was fleeing the city of Dael."
The next day they came upon another frozen man, and then another,