"John DeChancie - Castle 01 - Castle Perilous" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dechancie John)

The thought occurred to him that he should give serious consideration to changing professions. A thiefтАЩs life had
much to recommend it, but the dangers were considerable. Case in point, the present moment. Now, if he found
the castleтАЩs treasure room, it would all be worthwhile. But for the moment there was the problem of getting
through this charming episode.
With a suddenness that turned KwipтАЩs bowels to water, the thing behind him began scrabbling up the stairs. Kwip
lunged forward, taking six steps at a leap, dashing madly up the twisting passageway. But the thing was heart-
freezingly quick, clicking and scuffling in pursuit. It was gaining. The stairwell wound upwards in an unending
gyre. For an eternity Kwip ran and was chased.
Almost before he saw it, the top of the stairwell was upon him. The stairs dead-ended into a blank stone wall.

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With raw fear pumping a last desperate strength into him, Kwip drew his sword, whirled, and charged down the
stairs, his demented battle yell rending the silence of the tower.
He met only emptiness. By the time he was three or four turns down the well, he began to realize that he should
have met his pursuer by now. He halted, stumbled, slid down a dozen more steps before he managed to stop
himself. He froze and listened. Nothing. Where was it? Had it retreated? Or тАж gods of a pigтАЩs arse! Had he
actually imagined it after all?
No. Inexplicably, the thing was above, descending the stairs at a leisurely pace. He lurched to his feet. Invisible!
The buggering thing was invisible! But was it also incorporeal? He must have charged past it. But, no. There
wasnтАЩt room enough.
Whatever it was, it was coming around the upper turn. Kwip made a motion to flee, but halted. When he saw
what it was, his eyes bulged.
It wasnтАЩt an it, after all. It was a them.
Feet. They were feet. Two disembodied, taloned, reptilian feet, almost comically monstrous, hollow costume feet
looking for all the world to be made of papier-m├вch├й. They came tripping down the stairs. Kwip flattened himself
against the wall as they passed. Thunderstruck, Kwip watched. When they disappeared behind the curving stone
of the lower turn, he heard them begin to run down. Then he heard laughter, a high, thin, chittering, fading with
the footsteps. In a short time the silence of the tower returned.
Kwip stood in shock, immobile. Then he collapsed to the stone steps, his breath coming in racking heaves.
When he had composed himself, he rose slowly and sheathed his sword. He felt the front of his breeches. They
were wet.
тАЬGods of a poxed doxy.тАЭ
He had bepissed himself.
He scowled and turned up his nose. тАЬDamn me for a small-bladdered, craven тАФтАЭ He stamped his booted foot.
тАЬBalls!тАЭ
Presently he began to laugh. At first it was a snicker, turning to crazed giggling. Then he exploded into full-
throated laughter, tears coming to his eyes.
Some sixty stories below. Lord Incarnadine, whose castle this was, passed by the entrance to the stairwell and
heard faint echoes of mirth. He paused briefly to listen. Smiling, he wondered who it was. Then he walked on.
Keep тАФ West Wing тАФ South Wall
тАЬTHERE YOU ARE, Jacoby.тАЭ
The corpulent man with fleshy, hanging jowls and a pendulous double chin turned toward the doorway leading
out onto the balcony. тАЬDalton тАж my dear fellow.тАЭ He smiled, lifted a thin glass of amber liquid to his lips, took
a sip, then turned back to take in the sweeping view of the countryside, which, from this high vantage point of the
castle, spread for miles to the south and west. There was much of interest.
Dalton , a tall thin man with graying temples, came out onto the balcony holding a long-stemmed wineglass in
one hand and a tan-colored cigarette in a holder in the other. He was dressed in green breechclouts, brown leather
doublet, and brown suede boots. He wore a hat of soft green cloth that looked something like a Tam oтАЩ Shanter.