"Betancourt, John Gregory - Dawn Of Amber 1 - Dawn Of Amber" - читать интересную книгу автора (Betancourt John Gregory)

УHelp me,Ф he mouthed. He seemed to be staring straight at me, as though he
could see me.
I reached out for him, but my hand passed through his body and into the stone of
the altar. Had I become some sort of ghost? A powerless creature forced to watch
atrocities unfold around me, with no power to act?
I pulled my hand free. A mild tingling, like the return of blood after
circulation had been cut off, shot through my fingers, but nothing else. I
couldnТt help him.
The young man turned his head away. He shuddered again, but though tears rolled
down his cheeks, he did not cry out. Brave and strong, I gave him that.
УHave courage,Ф I whispered.
He did not reply, but his body began to shake and his eyes rolled back in his
head.
Again that wild, uncontrollable rage surged inside me. Why was I here? Why was I
having this vision? What could it possibly mean?
I looked at the soldiers, searching their faces for an explanation, and suddenly
I realized they were not human. Their slitted eyes glowed a faint red behind
their helms. Nasals and cheek guards concealed most of their features, but could
not hide the faintly iridescent pattern of scales around their mouths and chins.
I had never seen their like before. They must have the blood of serpents in
their veins, I thought, to kill one so young in such a horrible manner.
The victim on the slab gave one last convulsive shudder, then lay still. They
released him.
УLord Zon,Ф one of the soldiers croaked.
Something stirred in the darker shadows by the far wall. Slitted eyes, much
larger than the soldiersТ and set a foot apart, opened, then blinked twice. As
the creature shifted, torchlight glinted off its metallic-gray scales and the
sharp talons of its four spindly limbs.
I felt a sudden chill, a blind panic that made me want to run screaming from
this tower. Yet I steeled myself and held firm in my place, facing it, knowing
this to be a true enemyЧthe enemy of all men.
Yes, it said. The creature did not speak, but I heard the rumble of its words
clearly in my head.
УHe is dead.Ф
Bring me the other son of Dworkin.
A shock of recognition went through me. Dworkin! I knew that name. But it had
been such a very long time since I had seen him . . .
Calmly, two of the serpent-soldiers turned and left the tower through a doorway
set deep in the shadows. The remaining pair pulled the young man off the slab
and dragged him to a small hole in the floor. They rolled him into it, and he
plunged into darkness. I did not hear him hit the bottom.
A moment later the other two returned, half carrying, half dragging another man
between them, this one older than the one who had just died. He wore the
tattered remains of a military uniform, but I did not recognize the design, and
his face and hands were bruised and dirty. Still he bucked and fought, kicking
and biting, struggling frantically to free himself. He almost threw off the
serpent-soldiers several times; he was strong and determined not to be taken
easily.
Instinctively, my hand sought my sword again. I wished I had the power to help
him. But I remembered how my hand had passed through the body of the last victim