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

Hesitantly, Frima got to her feet and stepped up beside the Forgotten
King's table. Garth placed a hand on her shoulder. "This," he said, "is what I
found on the altar of Sai, goddess of pain. However, lest she not be what you
had in mind, I also took what I was told the painworshippers customarily kept
on their altar." He dumped the almost-empty sack out, revealing a coiled whip
and a narrow-bladed dagger.
"Was there nothing else?" the King asked.
"I am afraid I didn't think to bring the ropes they used to bind their
sacrifice."
"That is not what I meant. This is junk for the most part, Garth. The
stones are the true pieces, but their power was largely spent long ago. The
sword-that is worthwhile. The rest is nothing, mere trash. This whip is a
false imitation; the true token of Sai is shod with silver. The token of Aghad
is a golden dagger. P'hul's tool is a ring in the possession of a council of
wizards."
"This is what I found on the altars," Garth replied. He was amazed at
the King's loquaciousness.
"What of the seventh altar?"
Garth hesitated. "I took nothing from the altar of Death," he replied.
"Why?"
"I did not trust you; I feared what you might do should it prove as
powerful a force for death as the sword is a force for destruction."
"The book was there, though?"
Startled, Garth stared at the King. "What book?" he asked.
"There was no book?"
"No."
"Then what was on the altar?"
He could see no harm in telling the truth. "There was a horned skull,
from no species I have ever heard of."
There was a moment of silence. Then the King said, "Did you move it?"
 "No, I left it there. It was attached to the altar, and I thought better
of separating it."
"Of course it was attached, you idiot! It's part of the altar! Was there
nothing else?"
It was the first time Garth had ever heard the old man raise his voice;
it was not a pleasant experience. Though still not loud, the sound seemed to
bite through him.
"No, nothing else. The top of the altar was empty. Oh, there was slime
all over it, from the monster..."
"I care nothing about slime! I need that book!"
"There was no book there, I am quite certain."
"Begone with you, then! Keep your trinkets and leave me in peace; I must
consider this." With that, the old man rose, wrapped his cloak more tightly
about him, and moved around the table and up the stairs.
Garth watched him go in open-mouthed astonishment; then a glimmer of
light caught his eye, and he turned to see that the stone in the pommel of the
Sword of Bheleu was red once more and flickering with a fitful, uneven glow.
He felt a moment of horror as the familiar suffocating blur of anger and
confusion closed on him; the horror faded with the death of the mental clarity
sufficient to recall what he had lost.