"Denning, Troy - Forgotten Realms - Black Wizard" - читать интересную книгу автора (Denning Troy)

"Who are you?" she whispered, examining the man.
His skin was cracked and dry, as if it had been exposed to extended periods of savage weather. His hair and beard were thin, but long. Branches and thorns had tangled them into mats. His fingernails were filthy and worn all the way to the skin. Did he find food by scratching at the ground for roots and grubs? Robyn wondered.
His only garment was a leather cloak that barely covered his nakedness. A crude fur belt stretched around his waist to hold the cloak. His thin brown hair and beard were long and matted with burrs.
But it was his eyes that drew her attention and frightened her. They stared fiercely one moment, then darted frantically about like a madman'sЧdriven by some mysterious combination of fear and pain.
Robyn noticed that the man sprawled at an odd angle, with his hips raised slightly off the ground, as if he lay upon a sharp rock. She tried, gently, to move him, and she discovered that he had a small pouch tied to his belt, concealed by his buttocks beneath the ragged cloak. It was a filthy object, barely worthy of notice. Yet she found her eyes drawn to itЧcompelled to look at the pouch, and frightened by that compulsion at the same time.
Carefully, she reached for it, trying to pull the pouch from beneath the man. Her strong fingers felt a hard object, like a fist-size stone. As soon as she touched it, however, the man sat up, opening his eyes wide. Never had the woman seen such stark panic before.
The man screamed, and his voice shocked her ears. It was a piercing, monstrous sound, reminding her of some hulking reptile, ready to strike. But then he scuttled away from her like a crab, clutching the pouch to his breast. Robyn jumped up at the same time, stunned at the man's reaction, but then she held her hands up and gestured that she would not touch the stranger's possession. But what could this man be carrying that was of such incredible value?
"Come with me" she said quietly. "I'll take you to a place where you can rest and eat."
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Slowly, Robyn reached for the man's arm, helping him stagger to his feet. He was very weak, swaying drunkenly. He certainly would have fallen if not for Robyn's supporting arms. He weighed little, however, and she had no difficulty holding him upright. Newt crept out of the leaves and buzzed warily behind.
Carefully she led him through the grove among the broad oak boles. They approached a vast tangle of brush beside the ring of stone arches that marked the Moonwell.
As Robyn approached the clump its thickly intertwined branches parted silently, creating a rounded arch that was slightly higher than her headЧand revealing the tangle as a ring of brush, not a solid clump. Within the ring, she could see the tiny building that was the Great Druid's cottage. With its thatched roof and vine-covered walls, it looked like it had sprouted from the ground itself.
Robyn stopped abruptly, remembering that her teacher was taking a well-deserved nap. She decided to tell Genna about the stranger after she awakened. For now, she could tend to the man herself.
"Come this way," she said, changing course. "Through these trees." She led him between sheltering aspens, into a shaded area of lush grasses and soft flowers. "You can rest in the bower."
She helped the man into the meadow, leaning against a sturdy aspen to rest. A sudden growl erupted behind her, and she whirledЧnearly dropping the strangerЧto see a small mountain of brown fur rise from the grass. A huge creature snarled and bared its white fangs in annoyance.
The man cried out in fright and shrank against the tree trunk. His eyes nearly popped from his head at the sight of the huge bear.
"Grunt, stop it!" Robyn scolded, waving a hand at the animal. "Shame on you!"
The bear growled again but settled to all four feet and shambled across the meadow, disappearing into the aspens on the other side.
"I'm sorry," she explained, laying a hand upon the man's trembling arm. "He's very grumpy when he's awakened suddenly. Just ignore himЧhe wouldn't hurt you. Besides,
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the animals are forbidden to attack other creatures within the grove. You're safe here!"
She doubted that the stranger understood her, but he seemed soothed by her tone, for he clung tightly to her arm and allowed her to lead him further into the bower.
The bower was actually a grassy meadow, surrounded and covered by a converging tangle of trees. It was small, for they kept no animals and only used it for those periods when some injured creature of the wild needed the grove as a haven while recovering from wounds.
She helped the man, who seemed to grow weaker with every step, to a bed of lush grasses. Lowering him gently to the ground, she offered him more water.
Gradually his trembling subsided, and finally he slept. Even in unconsciousness, however, he clutched the tattered pouch and its rocklike contents tightly to his chest.
She rose silently when his breathing became deep and even, slipping through the curtain of aspens to leave him to his rest. There she found Newt perched suspiciously upon a low branch, waiting for her.
"Now, can we go swimming?" he asked.
"They were Calishites," reported Daryth. "At least, they learned their trade in CalimshanЧat the Academy of Stealth." The Calishite's brown face was taut with anger, and his black eyes blazed.
"How can you be sure?" asked the prince. He shook his head, trying to clear away the grogginess of his short sleep. Suddenly, he remembered his father's body in the next room, but he clenched his jaw to stifle any display of emotion. Inwardly, he wanted to shout his grief at the heavens, to cry aloud for vengeance. Daryth had awakened him after what seemed like scant moments of sleep, although he could now see the sun outside the window.
"Their garments, for one thing," Daryth continued. The prince knew that his friend had studied at the Academy of Stealth, but Daryth rarely spoke of those experiences. It was not, Tristan sensed, something the houndmaster was proud of. "The assassins of the Pasha's school always wear
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the finest weave of Amnish silkЧthis silk." He held up a piece of cloth torn from one of the slain attackers.
"And these little crossbows are a favored weapon of the Pasha's elite. Smeared with poison, they are absolutely deadly within fifty feet." Daryth paused. "I'm sorry. It's a miracle that they didn't get you as well."
"Then there was Razfallow." The Calishite paused for a moment. "I studied under him when I was at the Academy. That was when I was youngЧbut strong and quick. The skills taught at the Academy, I thought, would see me to a life of luxury and ease. But those skillsЧstealthy murder, theft, betrayalЧthey come with their own cost.
"And Razfallow made those costs clear to me. He is one of the deadliest assassins in the Realms. Eventually, I made him angry. The most convenient solution was for me to leave Calimshan, and so I did."
"Obviously, he remembers," remarked the prince.
"I gave him good cause to," muttered Daryth, but despite Tristan's curious look he would not elaborate.
"What is he?"
"A half-ore. His mother was a full blooded oreЧit's a sore spot with him."
"As if a person might not notice," muttered the prince.
"Finally, we found two guards atop the palisade slain from a single stab woundЧhere." Daryth bent his head forward, gesturing with a finger at the base of his neck. "I know of no other assassins in the world who use such a tactic for surreptitious slaying."
"The Pasha of Calimshan sent assassins to Corwell?" asked the prince. Perhaps he could find a focus for his anger.
"Probably not. Although they were trained in Calimshan, they were paid with these." Daryth held out a pair of gold coins, stamped with the outline of a crenelated castle on one side. The prince reached for the coins and flipped them over. On the back was a familiar silhouette.
"Caer Callidyrr? They were paid with the coin of the High King?"
"So it would seem," Daryth nodded soberly. "It was careless of one of them to carry his coin with himЧperhaps he did not trust his fellows. Now he has no use for the coin, and
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its presence on his body tells us much.
"What is the relationship of the High King to the rulers of the Ffolk, such as your father?"