"Роджер Желязны. Lord of Light (Лорд Света, engl) " - читать интересную книгу автора

cargoes."
The other nodded, seated himself upon a crate and proceeded to fill a
small clay pipe.
"Thank you, old one," he said. "Though I do pray to the gods of the
Temples of my own choosing, I accept the blessings of any and all. One can
always use blessings, especially a seaman."
"Had you a difficult voyage?"
"Less difficult than it might have been," said the sea captain. "That
smoldering sea mountain, the Cannon of Nirriti, discharges its bolts against
heaven once again."
"Ah, you sailed from the southwest!"
"Yes. Chatisthan, from Ispar-by-the-Sea. The winds are good in this
season of the year, but for this reason they also carried the ash of the
Cannon much farther than any would think. For six days this black snow fell
upon us, and the odors of the underworld pursued us, fouling food and water,
making the eyes to weep and the throat to burn. We offered much thanksgiving
when we finally outran it. See how the hull is smeared? You should have seen
the sails - black as the hair of Ratri!"
The prince leaned forward to better regard the vessel. "But the waters
were not especially troubled?" he asked.
The sailor shook his head. "We hailed a cruiser near the Isle of Salt,
and we learned of it that we had missed by six days the worst dischargings
of the Cannon. At that time, it burnt the clouds and raised great waves,
sinking two ships the cruiser did know of, and possibly a third." The sailor
leaned back, stoking his pipe. "So, as I say, a seaman can always use
blessings."
"I seek a man of the sea," said the prince. "A captain. His name is Jan
Olvegg, or perhaps he is now known as Olvagga. Do you know him?"
"I knew him," said the other, "but it has been long since he sailed."
"Oh? What has become of him?"
The sailor turned his head to better study him. "Who are you to ask?"
he finally inquired.
"My name is Sam. Jan is a very old friend of mine."
"How old is 'very old'?"
"Many, many years ago, in another place, I knew him when he was captain
of a ship which did not sail these oceans."
The sea captain leaned forward suddenly and picked up a piece of wood,
which he hurled at the dog who had rounded a piling at the other side of the
pier. It yelped once and dashed off toward the shelter of a warehouse. It
was the same dog who had followed the prince from the hostel of Hawkana.
"Beware the hounds of hell," said the captain. "There are dogs and
there are dogs-- and there are dogs. Three different kinds, and in this port
drive them all from your presence." Then he appraised the other once again.
"Your hands," he said, gesturing with his pipe, "have recently worn many
rings. Their impressions yet remain."
Sam glanced at his hands and smiled. "Your eyes miss nothing, sailor,"
he replied. "So I admit to the obvious. I have recently worn rings."
"So, like the dogs, you are not what you appear to be-- and you come
asking after Olvagga, by his most ancient name. Your name, you say, is Sam.
Are you, perchance, one of the First?"