"Lawrence Watt-Evans - Dus 1 - Lure Of The Basilisk" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watt-Evans Lawrence)

early start. After burying the ashes of their campfire and repacking their
supplies, the overman woke his captive just long enough to get him perched
firmly astride the warbeast, and set out toward the hills as the barbarian
fell asleep again, bobbing gently in the saddle.
By the time Elmil woke fully, the sun was visible above the mountains
and the road was slanting upward enough to make walking difficult. By noon the
party was well into the mountains, and the road was again level. This was the
Annamar Pass, several hundred feet above the level of the plain, but thousands
of feet below the peaks on either side.
It was here that Garth fully expected an ambush to occur, and his wary
alertness gradually changed to a growing apprehension as no attack came. Why
were the bandits so slow to make their move? Was there, perhaps, something up
here that had slain them and now lay lurking somewhere, ready to kill him as
well? Or were they merely biding their time, to relax his vigilance?
Elmil, in the meantime, seemed utterly unworried. He had little to fear
from any possible ambush, since the ambushers were his own tribesmen; although
he felt no particular need of rescue from his inhuman captor, he had no
objection to such an event. Garth had not mentioned the possibility of an
ambush to him, but Elmil was not so blind as to miss the significance of
sighting one of his comrades apparently standing lookout the preceding day. In
fact, since it provided an acceptable explanation of why the bandits had taken
this route, it relieved much of his earlier uneasiness. Thus he was highly
amused by Garth's reaction when some small animal cracked a nut somewhere
behind them. Far more nervous than he would ever have willingly admitted, the
overman whirled at the sharp sound and stood with drawn sword at ready,
glaring back down the road. Relaxing slowly, he turned forward once more and
carefully sheathed his blade to find Elmil attempting to smother a grin and
Karos waiting impatiently. Embarrassed, he said nothing, but merely marched
on.
When sunset arrived they were perhaps two thirds of the way through the
pass, and the road had begun to slope downward. Garth had finally decided that
there would be no ambush and relaxed somewhat, though he was still worried by
the mystery of why the bandits had taken this road. He considered discussing
the matter with Elmil, but decided against it.
Elmil, meanwhile, had decided that his tribesmen were planning a
midnight assault, the standard method for dealing with well-armed caravans; he
debated mentioning this to the overman, but decided against it. Despite
Garth's mercy in letting him live and even bandaging his leg, he was still at
least nominally an enemy. Besides, the idea was so obvious that he was sure
the overman had already thought of it.
That Garth had not in fact thought of it was a sign of his inexperience;
in the past his only battles had been by sea, against pirates unfamiliar with
Ordunin's waters, who dared not move at night for fear of ramming one another
or running aground on reefs and rocks. He had not yet adjusted his thinking to
allow for a new enemy, despite his presence in a new land. In truth, he had
done very little real thinking of any sort since his decision to seek out the
Wise Women of Ordunin, but had been allowing himself to be swept along by his
determination to fulfill his quest for immortal fame.
Thus, when they made camp, Elmil carefully arranged his sleeping-furs
well away from the fire, and well away from both overman and warbeast, so as