"Kathryn Sullivan - Oracle of Cilens" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sullivan Kathryn)

The thought of warning Septem was dismissed as quickly as it appeared. He had not been
expecting any danger in her vision, therefore she could not warn him. Any interference in
Charun's comings caused the god to change a swift passage to the underworld into a slow
and painful dying. She was helpless to alter what was to be. She could do nothing but place
herself in the hands of her goddess. Her fingertips brushed the hilt of her knife.
The cart rolled briskly along under the darkening sky. Thunder muttered irritably in the east.

The road widened, branching off yet again towards green- topped Banditac and its tombs.
Ramtha tensed as they neared the gentle slope of the hill road to Caere.

A rider on a mule came down the road, waving his sword slowly over his head as he neared
them. "Danger! Rockslide ahead!" he warned.
Muttering under his breath, Septem pulled the mules to a halt. The rider stopped beside the
cart. "Is the road completely blocked?" Ramtha asked, glancing up the slope.

The man pointed his sword back at the cliff. "My companions will soon have a pathway
clear. By Hermes! Are you not the wife of the master trader Visnai?"

Ramtha froze at the Dorian word. She glanced quickly towards the rider, looking past the
sandaled feet to a face from her vision.
The hook-nosed Dorian lost his false smile. He cast his left hand up as if to shield himself
from her gaze. "The witch knows!" he shouted and ran Septem through with his sword.

The slave cried out, doubling over, and Ramtha lunged forward to snatch the reins from the
Umbrian's dying grasp. She found herself instead fighting to disentangle herself from the
folds of a cloak cast over her head from behind. She struggled to fling aside the cloak and
rise, but was pushed to the floor of the cart again, the cloak held firmly over her head.
"Don't look at her eyes!" she heard Hook Nose shout. "The witch will enchant you if you look
into her eyes!"

"You've made a mistake!" Ramtha protested, ceasing her ineffectual struggles. "I am not a
witch!"
She felt the restraining bite of rope as it was wrapped about the cloak, fastening it securely
over her head and binding her arms to her sides. Yet her hands remained free.
"Our master says your are a witch," a cold voice commented next to her ear. "But, as he is
paying us to either deliver you to him or kill you, what you are makes no difference to me.
Now, you will either stay quietly where you are or I will kill you. Understand?"

The cart rocked, and Ramtha heard him land on the road. "Help me with the body, Grypos,"
he ordered. The cart rocked again and Ramtha felt her throat tighten at the memory of the
disrespectful, grumbling slave and his patience with her strangeness. "Swift passage,
Septem," she whispered softly. "May Charun soon lead you to the halls of music and
feasts."

She waited, listening intently in order to locate each of her captors. She quickly discovered
that although she had only heard two voices, there was one other, silent so far. She could
hear the sound of something being dragged off to her left, the quick step of sandaled feet on
the road behind the cart, and harsh breathing towards the front of the cart.