"Christopher Rowley - Bazil 04 - Battledragon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rowley Christopher)

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Battledragon by
Christopher Rowley
CHAPTER ONE
In the land of the Kraheen, in the heart of the dark continent, three
grim-faced men stood beside a long, ebony box in the temple of the God of
Stone.

Their leader, a burly fellow of six foot or more, nodded to the high
priests of the God of Stone, who stood before them clad in feathered
headdresses and leather aprons studded with gold.

"Ye have come to see the miracle?" he said in heavily accented Kraht.

"We have come, O great Kreegsbrok, as ye commanded."

"Then ye shall see with thine own eyes and be enlightened. Know this,
that the power of the Great One is beyond that of any other in this world,
whether man or god or goddess."

The priests bobbed their heads at this, but their dark brown eyes
reflected a lack of certainty. These men from beyond had brought many
dread things to their land. Their master was indeed a mighty force. But to
raise the Prophet from the dead? Surely this was impossible.

"Open the box," said Kreegsbrok.

The high priest snapped his fingers, and men lifted the lid that covered
the sacred visage of "He Who Must."

Kreegsbrok looked within and smiled. He saw the body of a lean-fleshed
man who had died in his early thirties, struck down by a sudden brain
spasm during the height of a raging incantation. The black flesh was
neither hard nor soft, the hair still curled in coiled locks about the massive
head. The Kraheen had long excelled in the art of preserving the bodies of
the dead. The body of the Prophet would be good material for the magic of
the Great One.

"May I?" he asked in the same flat voice.

The feathered headdresses bobbed again, the eyes like black pebbles,
unreadable.