"Karl Edward Wagner - Cold Light" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wagner Karl Edward)

Gaethaa spoke in command, and Mollyl reluctantly permitted
his captive to slip to the ground. Shaking herself as if to shed
some taint, the girl stepped back, still staring at them in dread
fascination. Abruptly she whirled and disappeared into an alley.
"She's blind," observed Cereb Ak-Cetee as they rode away.
"Did you notice? No focus. Her eyes are sightless."
"What do you mean—blind?" Alidore exploded. "She damn
well acted like she could see good enough. Had a strange look to
her eyes, granted. But she can't have been blind."
"I said she was blind," the wizard persisted tight lipped. "I'm
not at all sure how she perceives things, but I know enough to
recognize blind eyes when they present themselves to me."
"Yeah—Ok!" Alidore answered in dismissal. He was not about
to provoke the wizard's petulance.
"Hey, Bell!" Dron Missa whispered. "Cereb says we just took
directions from a blind girl. Doesn't that ring a bell even in your
thick skull?"
"You're funny, Missa," Bell rumbled. "Real funny. Yeah,
you're a scream. You ought to become a jester. You'd be good.
You're really a riot."
Alidore wondered how long it would take Dron Missa to push
Bell too far—or vice versa. The Waldann's sword arm was among
the deadliest Alidore had witnessed, but Bell could tear him into
quarters if he ever got the drop on him.
"That's it!" Jan pointed with his hook. "Hell, man! I can smell
that wine from across the square!"
"Good!" Gaethaa exclaimed. "And this part of town is as
stagnant as the rest of the place. Doesn't look like there's any
kind of organized force here, but we can't be sure what Kane will
have done. Looks like he's just lying low so far though. So we'll
play it by ear until we know the set up. Stroll on into the tavern
just like we were on our way across Demornte and stopped to
rest. Alidore and I will start stalking with this Gavein—assuming
he's here—and sound him out. Then we'll take it from there. But
no mention of Kane by any of you until I make the move. And
easy on the wine—things might happen fast."
Tethering their mounts before the three-storied stone structure,
Gaethaa and his band entered the open doorway. Inside the air
was cool, albeit somewhat stale. A small number of men stood at
the bar and sat at small tables occupied with their drinks.
Low-voiced conversation broke off as the riders sauntered across
the smoky room to the bar—a conspicuous entrance even had
strangers been commonplace in Sebbei. Still the townspeople
returned to their incurious aloofness once the initial stir had
settled, and the murmur of quiet voices began again.
Jethrann, the scar-faced innkeeper, took their coin with an
empty smile and brought them wine. In response to Gaethaa's
guarded inquiry he indicated the Lord Mayor, who sat alone and
half asleep at his usual table.
Wiping the wine from his mustache, Gaethaa carried his lung