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

"No." Garth had long ago gotten over his annoyance at the girl's habit
of asking questions over again and simply answered each one however many times
it might be asked. They had been together more than a fortnight, and he had
grown accustomed to queries, and complaints. She was only human, after all; he
couldn't expect much from her.
"What are their temples like, then?" she asked.
"To the best of my knowledge, there are no temples in Skelleth," he
replied.
"There aren't?"
"No."
 "Really?"
"Really."
"Are they all atheists, then?"
"No. At least, I think not."
"Are you an atheist?"
"I used to be; I am no longer certain."
"Why aren't you certain?"
"Because I saw and felt and did things in Dûsarra that have convinced me
that at least some of your seven gods exist-though I am not certain they are
truly gods, rather than some lesser sort of magical being."
"They're not my seven gods; I worship only Tema!"
Garth did not bother to answer. Instead, he studied the horizon
carefully. Skelleth looked different from this angle; he had never approached
from this direction before. Even when he had left on this expedition, he had
done so by way of the West Gate, and then circled southward onto the highway
he now rode.
He wondered briefly if it might be wise to enter by another gate. After
all, he was still an exile by order of the Baron of Skelleth. It might well be
advisable to use caution until such time as a proper opportunity for vengeance
presented itself.
But no, that was not what he wanted; he would ride directly into town,
defying the Baron to stop him. He had previously acquiesced to his banishment
to avoid damaging the prospects for trade, but his trip to Dûsarra had proven
very educational indeed; besides learning more about the gods humans
worshipped, he had become convinced that Skelleth was by no means the only
possible overland trade route between the Northern Waste and the rich lands of
the south. It should be possible, he thought, to circle around Skelleth and
trade directly with southern cities; he no longer believed that the old hatred
between men and overmen would be strong enough to prevent commerce from
flourishing once the southerners saw the gold his people mined in the Waste.
Furthermore, he had learned that the Northern Waste was not the only surviving
colony of overmen; Dûsarra traded with overmen who lived on the Yprian Coast,
and though he knew nothing about these people beyond the simple fact of their
existence, he saw no reason that his own people couldn't trade with them as
well.
With all these opportunities, he had no intention of being pushed around
by the mad baron of a filthy little border town.
He had no intention of cowering before the Baron of Skelleth; he would
ride straight into town, straight into the market square. If the Baron
objected, then Garth would laugh at him. Better still, Garth would kill him!