"Lawrence Watt-Evans - War Surplus 01 - The Cyborg And The Sorcerers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watt-Evans Lawrence)

"Affirmative."

The horseman was studying Slant now, much as he had studied the gun. "You say you just roam about
aimlessly?"

"Yes."

"How do you live?"

"I eat what I can find, do what work I can find when I need money or goods, sleep in the open." He tried
to look diffident.

The warrior was studying the vest and trousers Slant wore, and the cyborg suddenly realized that both
garments looked brand new; neither had ever been worn before this morning, and he had not thought to
age them artificially. That would, he saw, be very suspicious indeed in a penniless wanderer. The man
probably took him for a thief or some other sort of outlaw.

The horseman reached a decision. "Slant of Tur, as you call yourself, I am Huarram of Teyzha, Captain
of Warriors, and I go now lo serve as ambassador to Orna. These lands and to the east are under the
jurisdiction of Teyzha and the Council that rules Teyzha, and I think I would be failing in my duty to the
Council were I to leave you wandering about here. Therefore I will send you to the Council with an
escort, and let them decide what to do with you. You have committed no crime to my knowledge, nor
acted against the city, and if this is the case you need have no fear; we are a just people, and harm no
one without reason. Is this acceptable to you?"

Slant shrugged. "I have no objection." He suspected that Teyzha was his intended destination anyway,
and this seemed as good a way as any to get there.
"Good, since you have no choice. Perhaps the Council will be able to tell you what this relic of yours is,
as well." He turned to look over his shoulder at the other horsemen and said, "Silner, take this man back
to the city and present him to the Council. He is not a prisoner, so treat him with respect—but he is not a
friend, so be cautious." He turned back, nodded at Slant, and without further ado turned his horse up the
road and spurred it forward.

All but one of the others followed, and a moment later they were out of sight, leaving Slant facing a lone
warrior.

Silner was the youngest and smallest of the party, barely out of his teens, yet taller and broader than Slant
He wore white-striped" brownish fur, and a thick braid of blond and reached halfway down his back. His
face was cleanshaven; Slant, who had given up shaving more than ten years before, realized that Silner
was the only one of the warriors who did not sport at least a mustache, and guessed that it was because
he was too young to grow anything that looked halfway decent.

His horse was a glossy black animal; Slant looked at the creature and wondered whether he would be
expected to walk while his escort rode. If Teyzha was in fact the disturbance center that the computer
had been directing him toward, it was still a good distance away.

Silner settled that question by motioning for Slant to mount and holding out a hand to assist him. Slant
obeyed, and found himself seated astride the horse in front of the saddle and rider. It was not a
comfortable position, and it was not made any better by having to hang onto the submachine gun; he