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

within, perhaps? That might be it. He would suggest such a possibility to the
Forgotten King should he ever care to return to the old man's service.
What made this book so precious?
That, actually, was fairly easy to guess from what the King had said.
The book must be necessary for the magic he intended to perform. Perhaps it
was a book of spells, containing the needed instructions and incantations, or
perhaps the book itself had some magic to it.
Whatever the exact situation, it didn't really matter. What mattered was
that he had performed the errand he said he would perform for the King,
keeping his word, and that the King was not able to perform his deathcausing
magic. That put his dealings with the old man at an end. Now he was free to do
as he pleased with the loot from Dûsarra, to deal with the upstart Baron of
Skelleth as he saw fit, and to straighten out the actions of Galt and Kyrith.
When the Baron and his wife's war party had been taken care of, his time would
be his own once again, and he could relax and figure out what to do with the
magical sword and gem at his leisure.
He was approaching the North Gate now; as he had expected, there was a
guard posted in the ruined watchtower beside the road. He expected no
difficulty there; the man was supposed to keep enemies out, not to prevent
them from leaving.
Beyond the gate lay open plain, and perhaps two hundred yards along the
Wasteland Road stood the encampment he was headed for. He could see warbeasts
standing calmly in a group at one side and overmen milling about amid the
tents. They appeared to be moving in an aimless muddle; he hoped they weren't
as disorganized as they looked. How could the City Council have been so stupid
as to send them out without a competent warrior in command?
The human guard had noticed him now, alerted by the jingling of armor
and harness; Koros' soft footfalls were inaudible. The man rose to his feet,
short sword drawn; even Garth, inhuman as he was, could read the confusion and
nervousness on the young human's face.
"Halt!" the guardsman cried.
It was too soon for trouble; Garth spoke a word to his mount, and Koros
halted a few feet from the soldier.
The man was obviously unsure what to do next, so Garth took the
initiative. "I think you are making a mistake in stopping me, man," he said.
"I am leaving peacefully. You are here to warn of approaching enemies; I am
not approaching, but departing."
The soldier was still plainly uncertain.
When no response seemed forthcoming, Garth continued, "Besides, you
cannot very well stop me. You are a lone man on foot, while I am an overman
with a warbeast and with many more of my kind within earshot." He motioned
toward the camp. "I suggest you tell me I can go, before I become impatient."
The logic of this was irrefutable. The guard sheathed his sword and
waved Garth on. "You...you can go."
"Thank you," Garth replied politely. He tapped a signal to Koros, and
the warbeast moved onward. He didn't bother to look back.
Behind him, the guard considered for a long moment. He faced a difficult
decision; should he leave his post to inform his superiors of this occurrence,
or should he wait until his relief arrived?
His relief was due at sunrise the following morning, and it was now