"Lawrence Watt-Evans - Ethshar 1 - The Misenchanted Sword" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watt-Evans Lawrence)

have to know what I'm defending against."
"I don't know what those things that came through the wall were, but I
know what sent them. I told you, a northern patrol is after me. Shatra -- you
know what shatra are, don't you?"
"I'm not a fool, soldier; shatra are demon warriors."
"More or less; they look like men, but fight like demons."
"Damn you, soldier, I came here to get away from the war!" the wizard
burst out.
"You told me that. Tell them that; maybe they won't bother you. I doubt
they have anything against Ethsharitic deserters."
"You have no call to insult me; I am not a deserter. I was never
enlisted. I served my apprenticeship under a civilian advisor, not a combat
wizard, and worked thirty years as an advisor myself before I retired and came
out here to do my own research."
"Research?" Valder ducked his head instinctively as another projectile
whistled through the hut; this one entered through an open window and departed
through a box of gray-brown powder, leaving a slowly settling cloud of dust
hanging in the air above them. "You mean magical research?"
"Yes, magical research." He waved a hand in the direction of the nearest
jam-packed shelves.
 "Oh." Valder stared at the old man. "And I thought you were a coward,
hiding out here! I apologize, wizard, for wronging you. You've got far more
courage than I do if you've been experimenting in wizardry."
"Oh, it's not that bad," the wizard replied modestly, brushing at the
dust that had settled on his sleeve and open book.
"I've heard that the life expectancy of a research wizard is just
twenty-three working days," Valder argued.
"Oh, but that's for military research! I don't do anything like that --
no flame spells or death-runes or juggernauts. I've been working with
animations and I've been very careful. Besides, I use a lot of protective
spells. That's what most of this book is. They were my old master's
specialty."
"Protective spells?"
"Yes, of course."
"Have you got spells there that will stop those three?"
"I don't know. Look, soldier, you must know what wizardry is like; it's
tricky, unreliable stuff, and there's no telling what a new spell will do --
if it does anything at all. I haven't gotten any of the results I wanted in my
research so far. I've come up with some interesting things, but I don't know
what will work against shatra. Demons aren't like men or beasts, and shatra
are half demon, aren't they? I've got a spell here that may help us; it's not
much, but it's the best I could find in a hurry that won't take more time than
we've got or ingredients I don't have. It's an aversion charm." He rose to his
knees and snatched a jar and a small wooden box from a low shelf.
Valder paused and listened before replying, then said, "I hope you can do
it fast, wizard; I hear something moving out there."
The hermit paused, a pinch of malodorous green powder in one hand. "I
don't hear..." he began.
The rest of his words were lost in a whooshing roar as the roof of the
hut vanished in a ball of flame. Blinking and shielding his eyes against the