"Wilson,.David.-.Vampire.Book.1.-.Bitter.Ashes" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wilson David Niall)encountered, or so his Pa had told him.
There was a shuffle of feet beyond the door, and the sound of hushed voices. The old man had 11 DAVID NIALL WILSON known they’d come. He’d also known they would cower in the shadows, uncertain of how to approach, but too curious to stay away. He wished that they had grown to more wisdom. One of them was his own grandchild, and he’d hoped to see that young one grow to adulthood. Montrovant ignored the sound; at least he gave no indication that he’d heard it. He strode toward the door without once looking back. It was as though he believed that his words, once spoken, could never be denied. He didn’t turn toward the taverna. Instead, he turned toward the cliffs overlooking the village, where the bright, waxing moon outlined the monastery against a backdrop of cloudy darkness. The squat, severe lines of the stone edifice sat like a short silk cap on the mountain’s peak. The monastery brought its own fears. Stories had circulated about the place for years, dark stories, but there was no proof, and the Church cared well for the people of the village. The whispered voices grew bolder. The stranger seemed to pose no immediate threat, but somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach the old man knew it was a mask. He wanted to call out to the young ones, to send them away, but he found that his voice would not function. Not this time. He saw a young boy creeping up along the side of the wall, moving closer to the dark one. The lad TO SIFT THROUGH BITTER ASHES 12 was holding his breath, measuring each step carefully. He was nearly to the door of the stable at the stranger’s back, and the stablemaster prayed for one long second that he would make it. He could see the boy’s eyes, wide as saucers. In the dead silence of the night he believed he could hear the youngster’s heart slamming waning courage through his veins. Suddenly the man was not watching the mountains. He had spun, and the boy was held aloft before him, screaming in terror. The dark one had a hand gripping the lad beneath each shoulder. He held him above his head as easily as a mother might hold her infant. He drew the boy close, so close |
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