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

and unhealthy. These were the invincible warriors his ancestors had feared. A
surge of fury fountained up within him; how could he and his people have taken
so long to discover their foe's weakness? It was not fitting that overmen
should have feared such creatures.
The door of the Baron's mansion opened, and the whisperings faded in
anticipation.
It was not the Baron who emerged; the whispering flourished anew as
Garth recognized the man who stepped out into the square and stood between the
two groups of guardsmen. Tall for a human, dark of hair and eye, wearing the
steel helmet that was his badge of rank, Herrenmer, captain of the Baron's
guard and Skelleth's military commander, faced the overmen.
"The Baron is not well," Herrenmer said. "I have just come from his
bedside. Perhaps I can serve in his place."
Only the Baron could free Garth from his oath, so Garth's reply was
immediate. "We have come to see the Baron on matters that cannot be left to
underlings. We have come peacefully seeking an audience, despite the assault
upon us by your men, and we will remain here in this square until that
audience is granted."
"Very well; I will inform the Baron of what you have said and see if he
feels well enough to deal with you himself." Herrenmer turned and re-entered
the mansion.
Garth and the overmen waited, sitting astride their warbeasts or
standing where they were. Garth remained as motionless as he could; the
sinking sun was hot on his left cheek, and there was an unpleasant itch below
his left arm. Even had he been able to scratch it through his armor, to do so
would have ruined the dignity of his appearance. Instead he sat, waiting for
Herrenmer's return or the Baron's emergence, growing steadily more irritated
as the whispering in the watching crowd ebbed and flowed.
Beside him, Galt and Kyrith also sat still; but behind them, the other
overmen were less restrained. They were in unfamiliar territory and looked
about themselves with interest.
The poverty and decay of the town were plain on all sides; the only
building not in obvious need of repair was the Baron's mansion. Shutters were
missing or broken, roofs sagged, doors failed to fit their twisted frames. It
appeared that little had been done to maintain the town in the three centuries
since overmen had last seen it. For the most part, the warriors thought very
little of the place.
The mansion's door opened again, and again the whispers hushed; this
time Herrenmer pushed the doors wide and latched them open, then stood to one
side. A moment later the Baron of Skelleth emerged, shuffling forward
uncertainly. He was clad in a black robe embroidered with red and wore a
circlet of gold on his brow; his hair and sparse beard were black. He was
small and thin and seemed even smaller as he was hunched over slightly; his
right hand appeared to tremble slightly as he raised it and said, "Greetings,
overmen."
"Greetings, Doran of Skelleth," Garth replied.
"So you have come to torment me further? Is not the life the gods have
cursed me with torment enough to please you?" His faced twisted in a ghastly
smile; he raised his head, struggling to stand upright, and looked directly at
Garth. The overman met his gaze and was taken aback by the abject despair he