"Tom Deitz - David Sullivan 02 - Fireshaper's Doom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Deitz Tom)

тАЬWe will ride out on the morrow,тАЭ Arawn answered, and no more would he tell them.

And so, in the shallow light of dawn they journeyed forth: Lugh astride his great black stallion, black hair
bound by a fillet of gold, black mustache stirring in a west-blowing wind, gold silk surcoat shimmering
loose above tight black leather; and fair-haired Nuada beside him in white and silver, his left arm clothed
in creamy satin, the other a shoulder-stub forever cased in shining metal; and showing them the way,
Arawn himself, in dark gray velvet and blue-tingedp. 3bronze. No banners flew above that riding, no
trumpets marked its passage. ArawnтАЩs squire alone went with them: a sullen, tight-mouthed Erenn-lad
whom the Dark King had in fosterage. Ailill was his name, though some already called him
WindmasterтАФand in bringing him along that day Arawn was very foolish, though how much so would not
be clear for nearly a thousand mortal years.

They rode all day, and at dusk were riding still.
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At sunset they found themselves on a cold, black-sanded plain, so near the tattered fringe of Annwyn
that even a nearby Track showed as nothing more than a smear of sparkling motes, like brass filings
strewn across the ground. A solid sheet of clouds hung low above them; before them was a country
Arawn liked but little and the others not at all. A dead-end, blind pocket of a place, it was; open to
nowhere else save ArawnтАЩs kingdom: an ill-lit land where gray mist twisted in evil-smelling whirls among
the half-seen shapes of stunted trees and shattered, roofless buildings.

It was a place of mystery and rumor, shunned even by the mighty of the Tylwyth-Teg. Powersmiths lived
there: the Powersmiths of Annwyn, some folk called them, though they did not name Arawn their master,
and Arawn was not so bold as to set any claim upon that race at all.

But the Powersmiths made marvelous thingsтАФthings the Sidhe could neither craft nor copy nor
understand, and it was just such an object that was the cause of the riding that day.

Arawn drew it from his saddlebag and held it out for LughтАЩs inspection. A small hunting horn, it seemed,
wrought of silver and gold, copper and greenish brass. At its heart was the curved ivory tusk of a beast
that dwelt only in the Land of the Powersmiths and was near extinction there. Light played round about it,
tracing flickering trails among the thin, hard coils that laced its surface. Nine silver bands encircled it, the
longest set with nine gems, the next eight, and so on: nine black diamonds, and eight blue sapphires,
seven emeralds, six topazes in golden mountings, five smooth domes of banded onyx, four rubies red as
war, three amethysts, a pair of moonstones. And at the end, on a hinged cap that sealed the mouthpiece:
a fiery opal large as a partridgeтАЩs egg.

тАЬIt is the most precious thing in all my realm,тАЭ the Lord of Annwyn told them. тАЬMost precious and most
deadly.тАЭ His gaze locked with LughтАЩs, and he paused to take a long, decisive breath. тАЬI would make you
a gift of it.тАЭ

тАЬA giftтАФbut not without some danger, it would seem,тАЭ Lugh noted carefully.

тАЬYou are a brave man,тАЭ Arawn continued. тАЬBut you are also prup. 4dent, much more so than I. It would
be best that you have mastery of this weapon.тАЭ