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

sleek animals, careen stone, and glittering ice. Even in summer the lands were
dull and barren, covered only with sparse grass where the overmen's diligent
efforts could bring forth no wheat. He had never before seen so much green,
nor such a rich shade of green.
However, something looked wrong, even to his untrained eyes; the young
corn and wheat did not stand in neat rows, but were scattered about, and grass
and weeds grew unchecked amid the crops. These farms were untended and
abandoned. He wondered why.
He wondered also at the towers of Mormoreth. What were they for? Ordunin
had a single tower above the harbor, where a perpetual watch was maintained
for the benefit of both the trading ships carrying out furs, ice, carved bone
and new-mined gold, and the port itself; the pirates in the region had several
times assaulted Ordunin when unsatisfied with their take at sea. The port's
other buildings were but one or two stories in height, or at most three;
beyond that, stairs became too wearying. But here, amid a vast peaceful valley
with land to spare, humans had built a city with a dozen towers, each a good
hundred feet in height. Admittedly, the towers were very beautiful as they
glowed in the setting sun; the architects had been excellent indeed. But
building for beauty alone was something Ordunin could never dream of; mere
survival took too much effort.
Contemplating beauty and the significance of beauty, and the further
significance of abandoned farmlands, Garth fell asleep, to dream uneasily of
the desolate beauties of winter in the Northern Waste, where drifting snow and
pinnacles of ice would gleam in the setting sun like the towers of Mormoreth.
The following day Garth awoke once more at dawn, to find Elmil carefully
separating his belongings from the overman's. He watched for a moment, then
demanded, "What are you doing?"
"I am preparing to wait here while you go to Mormoreth."
"I intend to take you with me"
"I swore never to enter the valley."
"I am compelling you to break that vow."
"I will not."
Garth was momentarily speechless. Until now, Elmil had been a timid
creature, with little will of his own. Garth realized he must have
underestimated the man's terror of Shang, or else the man's sense of honor. In
either case, it hardly seemed worth arguing.
"Very well. I said I would release you, and although I had not intended
to do so so soon, I shall. You may go, and take the horses with you."
 "Thank you, lord."
Reflecting that he had gotten little use out of his captive and might as
well have released him long before rather than wasted food on him, Garth made
his own preparations. Shortly thereafter, two very different figures rode in
opposite directions from the campsite, Garth astride his warbeast, riding down
the overgrown path to the valley, Elmil on horseback, making his way back up
the pass into the mountains, leading the other horse.
The sun was warm, and it was not long at all before Garth found himself
sweating under his armor. Even the black hair stuffed under his helmet was
damp, and his body-fur was matted and sopping. Fur was all very well in colder
climates, he told himself, or even in warm weather if one wore nothing else,
but with the mail and breastplate trapping the heat, he felt as if he were