"Cook, Glen - Filed Teeth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cook Glen)

We flanked Lord Hammer, Sigurd and I to his right, the Harish to his left. Hammer started toward the dragon.
The monster opened an eye. Its snakelike tongue speared toward Lord Hammer.
I interposed my shield, chopped with my sword. The tongue caroomed away. My blade cut nothing but air.
A mighty laugh surrounded us. It came from no detectable source.
"You made it, fugitive. Ah. Yes. I know you, Lord Hammer. I know who you are. I know what you are. I know more
than you know. All tidings come to me here. There are no secrets from me. Even the future is mine to behold. And yours is a cosmic jest."
Lord Hammer reacted only by beginning a series of gestures, the first of which was the arm cross he had used at the barrows in the forest.
The dragon chuckled. "You'll have your way. And be the poorer for it." It yawned.
My jaw sagged. The teeth in that cavernous mouth! Like the waving scimitars of a horde of desert horsemen...
Laughter assailed the air. "1 have been intimate with the future, refugee. I know the vanity of the course you have chosen. Your hope is futile. 1 know the joke the Fates have prepared. But come. Take what you want. I'll not thwart you, nor deny the Fates their amusement."
The dragon closed his eye. He shifted his bulk slightly, as if into a more comfortable position.
Lord Hammer advanced.
We stayed with him.
And again I thought it was too easy. The monster wasn't making even a token attempt to stop us.
That matter about the Fates and a cosmic joke. It reminded me of all those tales in which men achieved their goals only to discover that the price of success was more dear than that of failure.
Lord Hammer clambered up the mound of gold and jewels, boldly seizing a gargantuan canine to maintain his balance.
My stomach flipped.
The dragon snored on.
Sigurd started grabbing things small enough to carry away. I selected a few souvenirs myself. Then I saw the contempt in Foud's eyes.
He seemed to be thinking that there were issues at stake far greater than greed.
It was an unguarded thought, breaking through onto his face. It put me on guard.
"Sigurd," I hissed. "Be ready. It's not over."
"I know," he whispered. "Just grabbing while I can."
Lord Hammer beckoned. I scrambled across the treacherous pile. "Cut here." He tapped the dragon's lip where scaly armor gave way to the soft flesh of the mouth. "Gently."
Terror froze me. He wanted me to cut that monster? When it might wake up? What chance would we have?...
"Cut!"
Lord Hammer's command made the cavern walls shudder. I could not deny it. 1 drew the tip of my blade across dragon flesh.
Blood welled up, dribbled down the monster's jaw.
It was as red as any man's. I saw nothing remarkable about it, save that men had died for it. Slowly, drop by drop, it filled the ebony container Lord Hammer held.
We waited tensely, anticipating an explosion from the monster. Dragons had foul and cunning reputations, and that of the Kammengarn Dragon outstripped them all.
I caught a smile toying with Aboud's lips. It was gone in an instant, but it left me more disturbed, more uncertain than ever.
I searched the cavern, wondering if more guardians might not be creeping our way. I saw nothing.
Sigurd bent to secure one more prize jewel...
And Lord Hammer screwed a top onto his container, satisfied.
Foud and Aboud surged toward him. Silver Harish kill-daggers whined through the air.
I managed to skewer Aboud and kick Foud in one wild movement. Then my impetus carried me down the mountain of treasure to the cavern floor. Golden baubles gnawed at my flesh.
Sigurd roared as he hurled himself at Foud, who was after Lord Hammer again. I regained my feet and charged up the pile.
A gargantuan laughter filled the caverns of Kammengarn.
Foud struck Lord Hammer's left arm, and killed Sigurd, before he perished, strangling in the grip of Lord Hammer's right hand.
Aboud, though dying, regained his feet. Again he tried to plant his kill-dagger in Lord Hammer's back.
I reached him in time. We tumbled back down the pile.
Lord Hammer flung Foud after us.
Aboud sat up. He had lost his dagger. I saw it lying about five feet behind him. Tears filled his eyes as he awaited the doom descending upon him.
"Why?" I asked.
"For the Master. For the blood of the dragon that would have made him immortal, that would have given him time to carry the truth. And for what was done to him during the wars."
"I don't understand, Aboud."
"You wouldn't. You haven't recognized him as your enemy."
Lord Hammer loomed over us. His left arm hung slackly. The kill-dagger had had that much success.
Lord Hammer reached with his right, seizing Aboud's throat.
The Harish fought back. Vainly.