"Karl Edward Wagner - The Gothic Touch" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wagner Karl Edward)

THE GOTHIC TOUCH
Karl Edward Wagner

Night was gathering too rapidly. Lightning was flickering across a leaden sky.
Sounds of distant thunder were no longer so distant. Dark-winged birds were
streaking across the sky for cover. Elric sniffed the air, pushed the white
hair from his face. His horse was restless beneath his thighs.
Moonglum watched the horizon unhappily. They had been riding all day.
Thus far they had eluded human pursuit, but the storm was quickly overtaking
them. “We’ll have to find some sort of shelter soon.”
“They won’t seek shelter.” Elric searched his memory. He was uncertain
of landmarks in this part of the land they fled across, but he remem-bered
talk of a ruined castle, supposedly haunted. That sort of legend might hold
off interlopers, and if it came down to it, better to make a stand behind
walls than to be hunted down like a fox.
Thunder drew closer. Neither Elric nor Moonglum heard the blast as
lightning tore apart the earth close behind them. It was enough to hold saddle
as their panic-stricken horses plunged headlong through the sudden torrent.
“There!” shouted Elric. The lightning-blasted sky revealed stone walls
ahead. He and Moonglum fought to control their horses, somehow galloping into
the walled enclosure through its breached gate.
“There’s a light!” Moonglum pointed as they crossed the courtyard. Elric
smelled smoke through the drenched wind. Most of the interior structure was
still standing, albeit gutted. What appeared to have been the castle itself
had retained some of its roof. A fire could he seen through its open doorway.
Lightning crashed again. Elric and Moonglum rode their horses through
the castle doorway, caring not who might challenge them. The interior was
reasonably dry, if musty from long disuse. There was a good fire burning on
the massive hearth. There was a broken table set with food and wine. There was
no one present.
“Isn’t this castle supposed to be haunted?” Moonglum was searching the
shadows of the cavernous room. Little remained except ruin, rotted tapestries,
crumbling furnishings. Whoever had overthrown the castle had not stayed to
loot it.
“All ruined castles are haunted,” said Elric, dismounting. “At least to
the popular mind. Now tether our horses. Someone abides here, and we’ll share
this fire.”
As Moonglum saw to their mounts, Elric shook off his cloak and warmed
himself at the fire. The thin albino had little tolerance for the drenching,
cold night. He considered the food and drink upon the table. Three settings.
Cheese, bread, cold fowl, some apples, wine and—Elric delicately sniffed the
bottle—brandy. He poured some of the brandy into a chalice of ruby glass. He
could not identify its place of origin, but it was of excellent quality, and
it warmed him.
Moonglum returned from the horses and almost struck away the chalice.
“There might be poison!”
“Who knew that I would be here?” Elric was exhausted after almost two
days on the run. He broke off a bit of bread. “Try the fowl, Moonglum, and
tell me if it’s poisoned.”
“ Three places are set,” Moonglum pointed out. “Yet no one is here.