"Guy N. Smith - The Pluto Pact" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Guy N)

narrow steps and threw the door wide open.

The single room which served as a hostelry for the inhabitants of Craiglowrie
was primitive - trestle tables of planks placed across sawn tree butts,
earthenware jugs and mugs, an acrid reek of ale and crudely-distilled spirit
which caused the newcomer's nostrils to flare. A man straightened up from the
fireplace, hunched by some deformity from birth, blistered lips moving beneath
his red beard.

'Sire.' He gave a half-bow, sweeping downwards with the stump of a malformed
hand. 'My humble inn, food and drink, are yours.'

There was a gleam in the Witchfinder's eyes as he scraped mud from the soles
of his riding boots on to the rough floor. 'Aye, landlord, all that I want
I'll take in the name of the King and his Kirk. Ale for now, and tell me of
this man Balzur.'

Amber liquid was slopped into a vessel on the bar and when the innkeeper spoke
his festered lips quivered. 'Sire,' he began, 'Balzur has ruled Craiglowrie
and the people of these mountains ever since the royal soldiers left after
quelling the uprising. His word is law ... until now!' Relief overcame fear.
'Thank God our message found you, Witchfinder.'

'My coming has nothing to do with your message' - a pause as the speaker took
a long swallow of ale. 'I have travelled many miles because there is said to
be one here whose magic offends the King and his Kirk. But tell me more of
this Balzur and his black powers.'

'He communes with the devil' - a sudden rush of words. 'Young maidens and
children have been snatched from their homes in the dead of night, and never
seen again. The people live in terror, and bestow gifts upon Balzur in the
hope that he might pass over their families. Only last week a wee lassie . . .
'

'I'll warrant his power is not as strong as mine,' the Witchfinder gave a low
laugh. 'But, nevertheless, I shall need the help of the people of Craiglowrie.
All the brushwood they can find to make a fire so great that it will light up
the English towns on the other side of Solway. Tonight the sky will radiate my
power for all to see, driving the evil ones back into the darkness.'

'The people await your bidding, sire.' 'Then bid them hasten, for the time is
nigh.' As the Witchfinder watched the dwarf-like figure step out through a
rear doorway, he heard the mutter of low voices. Laughing, he refilled his
mug. This coming night would be yet another to savour.

It was fully dark when the Witchfinder left the inn, a myriad of sparkling
stars in the sky promising frost before morning - a night to huddle around a
blazing fire. And tonight, the people of Craiglowrie would be able to do just
that! The tall man glanced towards the mingled crowd further down the street.