"Karl Edward Wagner - Kane 02 - Death Angels Shadow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wagner Karl Edward)

struggling to secure the animals and material within the outbuildings. One man had stayed behind the rest
to complete some errand--none remembered what. His scream of terror had almost gone unheard by the
last of those stumbling back to the castle gate. But several men had staggered through the near darkness
and blinding winds to the darker figure lying in whirling white. They had borne his mangled body into the
castle with panic-sped steps, for no man had seen that which had attacked the human with such savage
suddenness and vanished again into the blizzard.
The victim lay close to the fire, partially lifted from the stone floor by an improvised pillow of rags. His
eyes gaped blankly in stark horror, and scarlet bubbles broke occasionally from his stack lips. Relentless
fangs had shredded the flesh about his throat and chest, foiled in their attempt to sever the carotids only
by the heavy fur cloak and the intervention of a protecting arm. This much could be determined from
scrutiny of the dying man, whose silence had been unbroken since that one shriek of mortal terror.
Several had pointed out that the servant probably could not speak even should he come out of shock, for
the awful wreckage of his throat would make speech most unlikely.

There seemed to be no end to the flow of blood that streamed through the rough bandages to glisten on
the stones. The one who usually tended only to injury to livestock had been called to help--the baron's
physician and astrologer could not be found, assuming he would have bothered. The horse surgeon knew
it was hopeless of course, but for appearances he made a few half-hearted attempts to forestall imminent
death.

The servant uttered one great, wet cough that merged with a final spasm. The horse surgeon considered
the limp wrist, critically pried up one eyelid, and shrugged. "Well, he's dead," he proclaimed needlessly.
There was disappointment among the watchers, who had hoped to learn from the victim of his assailant's
nature. Over them lay a clammy atmosphere of gnawing fear, and several argued louder than necessary,
asserting that a wolf, or several wolves, possibly a snow cat had been the killer. Some had darker
suspicions as well, for this frozen land of Marsarovj had its legends.

A sudden hideous movement halted their slow withdrawal! The corpse had lurched upward from the
slippery stones! Supporting itself with its arms, it sat half-upright and glared at them with wide and
sightless eyes. Red slobbering lips fought to form words.

"Death! I see him! Out of the storm he comes for us all!" blubbered that thing which should not speak.
"Death comes! A man! A man not man! Death for all!"

The corpse toppled hollowly back upon the stones, now silent.

"He must not have been quite dead," offered the surgeon finally, but not even he believed that.




I. The Rider in the Storm



Kane at last was forced to admit to himself that he was totally lost, that for the past hour he had been
without any sense of direction whatsoever. He kicked his plodding horse onward, cursing the fate that
had set him abroad in this frozen wasteland during what seemed to be the worst blizzard in his long
memory. The shaggy steed was close to floundering with exhaustion, for even its rugged north-bred
endurance had been overtaxed by the days of flight which had left them lost in this fantastic ice storm.