"Karl Edward Wagner - Sing a Last Song of Valdese" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wagner Karl Edward)

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Sing A Last Song Of Valdese
Karl Edward Wagner




I
The Girl Beneath the Oak


"Reverence! Hold up a moment!" The burly priest drew rein in a swirl of autumn
leaves. Calloused fingers touched the plain hilt of the sword strapped to his
saddle as his cowled head bent in the direction of her call.
Raven-black hair twining in the autumn wind, the girl stepped out from the
gnarled oaks that shouldered the mountain trail. Bright black eyes smiled up
at him from her wide-browed, strong-boned face. Her mouth was wide as well,
and smiled.
"You ride fast this evening reverence."
"Because the shadows grow deeper, and I have a good way to ride to reach the
inn ahead." His voice was impatient.
"There's an inn not more than a mile from here." She swayed closer, and he saw
how her full figure swelled against her long-skirted dress.
The priest followed her gesture. Just ahead the trail forked, the left winding
alongside the mountain river the right cutting along the base of the ridge.
While the river road bore signs of regular travel, the other trail showed an
aspect of disuse. Toward this the girl was pointing.
"That trail leads toward Rader," he told her, shifting in his saddle. "My
business is in Carrasahl.
"Besides," he added "I was told the inn near the fork of the road had long
been abandoned. Few have cause to travel to Rader since the wool fair was
shifted south to Enseljos."
"The old inn has lately been reopened."
"That may be. But my path lies to Carrasahl."
She pouted. "I was hoping you might carry me with you to the inn yonder."
"Climb up and I'll take you to the inn on the Carrasahl road."
"But my path lies to Rader."
The priest shrugged thick shoulders beneath his cassock. "Then you'd best be
going."
"But reverence," her voice pleaded. "It will be dark long before I reach the
inn, and I'm afraid to walk this trail at night. Won't you take me there on
your horse? It won't take you far from your way, and you can lodge the night
there just as well."
Shadows were lengthening, merging into dusk along the foot of the ridges. The
declining sun shed only a dusty rubrous haze across the hilltops, highlighting
tall hardwoods already fired by autumn's touch. Streaked with mist, the