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

Galt contemplated this. "Could it be so far that he has not yet had time
to return? It was a month or more ago that he vanished."
"Certainly it could. The world is a very big place."
"We overmen wouldn't know. These past three centuries we have had little
opportunity to see it."
Saram ignored the sarcasm. "I haven't seen much of it, either, but I've
heard that the land extends for hundreds of leagues to the west and south."
"So it is your belief that Garth is off adventuring in this Dûsarra and
will return in due time?"
"Unless he gets himself killed, yes."
"Why have you told me this? Why come here, alone, in the middle of the
night, in the pouring rain, to tell us that our missing comrade is running
some fool's errand for a crazy old man?"
Saram was momentarily taken aback. "It's the truth."
"Quite possibly it is, but why have you told me?"
"To end the siege!"
"You think this information will end the siege?"
"Why not? You came to rescue Garth; Garth isn't here."
"It would be more pleasant for all of us if things were that simple.
Unfortunately, they are not. Garth is not the reason for our presence so much
as the excuse. We are here at the behest of his wife Kyrith-who has come
seeking her husband, true. But do you think sixty of Ordunin's warriors and a
dozen of the best and most valuable warbeasts would be out here solely to
please a lone overwoman who prefers not to believe that Garth would rather go
off adventuring than come home to her? I was there when the Baron sentenced
Garth to exile and I do not think the man was dissembling. Further, I know
Garth reasonably well, and I am well aware that in his resentment of his exile
he would be disinclined to go meekly home to his wives and children. I know
that he might well be impulsive enough to undertake this mission you mention,
yet here I am, wearing armor in this miserable rain, watching the North Gate
of your stinking village in the middle of the night."
"No, I will be frank. Garth's disappearance was only an excuse. This
expedition was intended as a show of force. Our intent was to ride into the
market square, confront the Baron, and renegotiate the terms of our existence.
For three hundred years overmen have lived a lean and bitter life in a harsh
wasteland because your ancestors defeated ours in the Racial Wars and drove us
into the barren north. We believed that the defeat was final and irreversible.
Our legends taught us that Skelleth stood at the border, a mighty fortress,
ready to oppose any attempt on our part to renew our acquaintance with the
rest of the world. Your people were reputed to be our implacable and deadly
foes. Rather than confront you, we sailed the full width of the Sea of Mori
and traded with the smugglers of Lagur for the necessities our land could not
provide, paying whatever they asked because we had no choice and knew no
better.
"Then Garth came south on some quest of his own invention and discovered
that Skelleth was a pitiful ruin, three-fourths abandoned and on the edge of
starvation, worse off than we were ourselves. He returned with me and two
others to establish trade and, in accordance with our long tradition of bowing
to human demands, we allowed your Baron to set the terms of that trade,
including Garth's banishment and a dishonorable oath.