"Robert E. Vardeman & Geo W. Proctor - The Swords of Raemllyn 1 - To Demons Bound" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vardeman Robert E)

Davin knew Goran's sorry tale of being ensorcelled by the demented mage Roan-Jafar and brought
to this world for scurrilous deeds best left unmentioned. But Goran's anger at being sundered from his own
realm gave him energies unknown to the summoning mage.
Goran had killed Roan-Jafar with the sorcerer's own knife, an act that had freed the Challing of his
would-be master, but not of the gargantuan form to which he had been bound. Since that day, over five
years in the past, Goran had journeyed the lands of Raemllyn in search of another possessing the sorcerous
knowledge needed to free him from the bonds of human flesh.
To return to his own realm was all Goran sought from life—but that didn't prevent the hulking giant
from en-joying a few of the more human pleasures encountered during that search. Although those
pleasures were often beyond Davin's comprehension.
"I enjoy the feel of blood—another's blood—oozing between my fingers," Goran declared loudly.
More than bravado boomed in that resounding voice, a fact apparently all too crystal clear to the
dangling thief, whose eyes grew saucer-wide. An instant later, sinews sprang forth on Goran's log-thick
forearm as his bear-paw-sized hand squeezed vise-tight about Aylrah's wrist.
A heartbeat before the thief's wide eyes clamped shut and anguish tore from his throat, Davin heard
the crush of bone.
"Do with him as you will." Davin refused to allow his friend's sanguinary diversion to dampen his own
high spirits.
While he would have sent the thief scurrying with a well-placed boot to a bony backside, the cutpurse
had earned whatever reward Goran decided to bestow upon him. Indeed, may haps even more! The son
of a mange-ridden Oraidian bitch meant to bury his blade hilt deep in my back!
With a final glance at the helplessly dangling thief, Davin turned to leave. "I intend to spend my time
in more... exciting pursuits."
"That wench Belatha, eh?" Goran peered at his friend through his one good eye.
The witch-fire burned brightly in it tonight, making
Davin shiver slightly. The sight of those demon sparks adance like light reflecting off the insides of an
opal betold of Goran's magical powers on the wax. Davin wanted no part of his friend when this
happened—Goran had scant control of prodigious energies at the best of times.
As for Goran's other eye, or darkened socket, it lay hidden beneath a fox-skin patch as fiery red as
the Chal-ling's magic-bound mane. How Goran had lost that orb provided something of a mystery for Davin
because of the giant's propensity for cobbling together a new and even wilder yarn every time he was
asked.
"Please, lords, I beseech you! Be kind to a poor man only trying to steal to support his sickly wife and
seven malnourished bratlings," Aylrah squealed, obviously fearing for his life.
"Ah, a liar as well as a thief! I'll wager that this one is incapable of siring offspring. Two bists that he
is shriveled and much too wormlike to properly render the services a woman requires of a man."
Davin waved away the proffered bet and shook his head, neither of which stopped Goran from
reaching down with his free hand, gripping the thief's belt, yanking, and exposing his squirming plaything to
the night.
"Ha! I was right! See, Davin, see? This rooster can no longer crow. It's no bigger than a joint of my
thumb! And his jewels hang like sparrow peas in a dried husk!"
"Let him go play with himself, Goran. We've better things to do than badger this pathetic wight.
Belatha awaits me at the inn. And didn't you mention a game of chance over on the Street of Five Winds
you wished to attend this night?"
"That I had. And fat merchants who don't understand odds! A dozen or more are to be there.
Tonight I turn this paltry stake into real wealth." Idly Goran discarded the thief as another might a crumpled
sheet of foolscap.
The scrawny man slammed into a solid brick wall and slid to the alley, clutching his broken wrist and
glaring at the Challing in giant's form. When Goran glanced his way, the merest spark of hellfire burning in
his one good eye, Aylrah swallowed hard and scuttled toward the street, thus depriving Qar of two souls