"Karl Edward Wagner - Lynortis Reprise" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wagner Karl Edward)

beside the ravine she had quitted. She stood in full sight in the low scrub of
the wash. Again she whirled. She was trapped.
Fear twisted her face. They laughed as they closed on her, this band of forest
outlaws who would take their time before letting her die. Hard-faced killers
whose plundered gear was as mismatched as the men who wore it. They moved in
slowly, tempting her to try to run through their circle.
She sobbed a curse at them--half-crouched, backing away as one moved closer,
spinning about as another crept still closer from behind. They were playing
with the prey who had cost them so much toil. A circle of grinning wolfish
faces, casually moving in across the space of washed stone and dry bones.
The lead horse of the group that had waited in the timber stalked toward her.
Its fat rider was the bandit chief, Grey--who had let his men drive his quarry
into his dread grasp. His blubbery lips twitched in a triumphant grin.
Then his horse stumbled, its hoof breaking through the gravelled crust with an
eerie brittle smash.
Man and steed screamed in tearing agony. From the splintered bubble beneath
the wash erupted a spewing mist of black vapor, flowing heavily across the
barren space.
The horse plunged to the ground, spilling its rider in a writhing heap that
spared him the mercy of a broken neck. She could see the blackened skin slough
away from blistered features as the outlaw leader screamed mindlessly for a
moment longer. And already the black mist had billowed over those who were
with him.
Those who yet could, fled in desperate panic. The black vapor swirled like a
hell-driven cloud, flowing across the wash--breathing its searing death upon
all who were near.
The wind was blowing back toward the ravine, she saw, and carefully gauged the
spreading cloud. Of those with Grey, all lay shrieking on the bone-strewn
gravel. Those who had hounded her were trying to outrace the mist, in their
terror forgetting their prey.
Somewhere she found strength for a final burst of speed. Perilously skirting
the advancing cloud of vapor, she escaped its withering tendrils and reached
the patch of forest that lay upwind. The vapor would slowly dissipate, but by
the time the survivors regrouped it would be dark--if any still had heart for
their game.
On failing legs she stumbled into the shelter of the gnarled trees. And into
the grasp of the man who stood watching from their shadow.
She opened her mouth to scream, but already one spade-like hand smothered her
lips, while the other enclosed her wrists. With desperate strength she
struggled against him, but he held her fast with casual strength.
"Quiet!" His voice rumbled in her ear. "I won't hurt you!"
She shuddered and hung limp in his arms. Her heart hammered painfully, but it
was useless to try to break away.
He removed his hand from her lips, but retained his grip on her wrists. "Don't
worry, I'm not with them," he told her. "Let's just rest easy now, and let the
survivors distance between us. I think they're too demoralized for any more of
this."
He added, "What's your name?"
"Sesi," she admitted, after a pause. She twisted about to get her first good
look at the man who held her.