"Lawrence Watt-Evans - Dus 3 - Sword Of Bheleu" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watt-Evans Lawrence)

Now he seemed to be stopping at a small tavern. He was muttering something,
but fire glass showed images only, without sound, and the scene was not
sufficiently clear for lipreading.
Haggat had better ways to spend his time than watching an overman take
his noon meal, which was undoubtedly Garth's intent. The image was blurring,
and the sacrifice bad to be chosen. He lowered the sphere, letting the vision
within fade out of existence.
He would return, however, when time allowed. Garth had defied and
defiled the cult of Aghad, and it was Haggat's duty to make sure that he
suffered for that.
The cult of Aghad was quite expert in such matters.


CHAPTER THREE

"Where are we?" Frima asked.
"This," Garth answered, "is the King's Inn, where the Forgotten King may
be found."
"Does he own it? Is that why it's called the King's?"
"I don't know; it doesn't matter."
 "Are you really going to give me to him?" Her tone was wistful; Garth
could not precisely identify the emotion, wistfulness being more or less alien
to overmen, but he realized she was not pleased.
"Yes, I am; that is why I took you from the altar of Sai and brought you
to Skelleth. I have no other use for you. It may well be that he will have no
more need for you than I do, though, in which case you will most likely be
free to go your way."
"Oh." That single syllable carried many mingled emotions; Garth was
aware of none, and even Frima herself did not fully understand her feelings at
that moment. There was trepidation as she faced an unknown fate, mingled with
anticipation of meeting a wizard, hope that she might be freed, regret that
her association with Garth was apparently about to end-a maze of confused and
confusing sentiments.
They were in the alley behind the Baron's mansion; surrounded by filthy
mire and an appalling stench. A few paces ahead, on their left, was the open
door of a tavern, and its broad, many-paned window of ancient purpling glass
was just beyond. The day was still gray and cloudy, so that the alleyway was
full of shadows and the lanterns gleaming inside the King's Inn made the door
and window into welcoming oblongs of light.
No one had dared interfere with the warbeast's smooth, silent progress
through the town, but any number of villagers had seen it pass, and it was
possible that some had recognized which overman it was carrying. Word had
probably already reached the Baron of Garth's arrival; he could not afford to
waste any time. He hoped that he would be able to speak with the old man and
be gone before any opposition could be sent to stop him.
There was a stable just past the inn, but he ignored it and left Koros
standing in the alley while he gathered together the booty he had brought from
Dûsarra in fulfillment of the Forgotten King's task.
Most of it was contained in a single good-sized sack, which he slung
over his shoulder. Frima was another part; he lifted her to the ground and