"Brooks,.Terry.-.Word03.-.Angel.Fire.East" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brooks Terry)

But the man senses him now and in a ragged, wh ispe ry voice
says, Do n' t touch me.

Ross stops instantly, the force of the other's words and the
surprise of his consciousness bringing him to a halt.

They have poisoned me, the other says.

Ross draws a long, slow breath and exhales in weary recognition:
Those who have crucified this Knight of the Word have coated him
in a poison conjured of demon magic. He is without hope.

Ross steps back, looking up at the Knight on the cross, at the slow,
shallow rise and fall of his breast, at the rivulets of blood leaking
from his wounds, at the shadow of his face, still concealed within
the curtain of his long hair.

They caught me when I did not have my magic to protect me, the
stricken Knight says softly. I had expended it all on an effort to
escape them earlier. I could not replenish it quickly enough.
Sensing I was weak, they gave chase. They hunted me down.
Demons and once-men, a small army hunting pockets of
resistance beyond the protection of the city fortresses. They found
me hiding in the town below. They dragged me here and hung me
on this cross to die. Now they kill all those who tried to help me.

Ross finds his attention drawn once more to the shrieks that come
from the town. They are beginning to fade, to drain away into a
deep, ominous silence.

I have not done well in my efforts to save mankind, the Knight
whispers. He gasps and chokes on the d ry ness in his throat.
Blood bubbles to his lips and runs down his chin to his chest.

Nor have any of us, Ross says.

There were chances. There were times when we might have made
a difference.

Ross sighs. We did with them what we could.

A bird's soft warble wafts through the trees. Black smoke curls
skyward from the direction of the town, rife with the scent of human
carnage.

Perhaps you were sent to me.

Ross turns from the smoke to look again at the man on the cross,
not understanding.