"Sara Douglass - Redemption 2 - Pilgrim" - читать интересную книгу автора (Douglass Sara)

"Yes, but we need to know more specifically. If we know exactly when it is safe for us to roam abroad, then
we will have a better idea of how to counter these Demons ... or at least, when we can try to do so. Besides,
somehow we will have to rebuild life around," he paused, his mouth working as if he chewed something
distasteful, "our new-found restrictions. We need to know when it is safe to live."
Dare Wing nodded. "I agree ... but how?" "Can you station members of your Strike Force, perhaps twenty
at any one time, along the south-west borders of the Silent Woman Woods? They will be safe enough if
they remain among the trees, and perhaps they can observe ... observe the behaviour of those still trapped in
the open."
Dare Wing nodded, agreeing with the location. The southwest border of the Woods would be close to Tare,
an area more highly populated than the northern or southern borders of the Woods. If they needed to
observe, that would give them their best possible chance.
"The more we learn," he said, "the more hope we have." "You do not want any of our men stationed there?"
Herme asked quietly.
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"My friend," Zared said. "I ask only the Icarii because they can move between the border and back to our
placement faster than can human or horse legs." He stood up. "I profess myself sick at not knowing how to
react, or what to do next. Until Faraday returns we must do what we can."
DareWing rose to his feet, nodded at Zared, and faded into the gloom of the forest.
Fifteen paces away Askam sat with his back against a small sapling, his eyes narrow and unreadable as he
watched Zared move to talk quietly with Caelum.
His mouth thinned as he saw Caelum nod at Zared's words and place a hand briefly on the King's shoulder.
After three days of observation, they had a better idea of the span of the Demonic Hours. From dusk to the
time when the sun was well above the horizon was a time of horror, the time when first Raspu, then Rox
and finally Mot ruled the land. Pestilence, terror and hunger roamed, and those few who were caught
outside succumbed to the infection of whichever Demon had caught them. After the dawn hour there were
three hours of peace, a time of recovery, before Barzula, tempest, struck at mid-morning.
Although the occasional storm rolled across the landscape during Barzula's time тАФ whirlwinds of ice or of
fire тАФ the scouts reported that the primary influence of the tempest appeared to occur within the minds of
those caught outside. Once Barzula's hour had passed and he had fed, there was again a time of peace (or,
rather, a time of frightful anticipation) for some four hours until Sheol struck at mid-afternoon. Again, an
interval of three hours when it was safe to venture outside, then the long hours of pestilence and terror
through dusk and night.
The precise time span of the Demonic Hours were marked by a thin grey haze that slid over the land from a
point to the east, probably the location of the Demons themselves. It was a sickening miasma that carried
the demonic contagion with
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it, lying over the land in a drifting curtain of madness until it dissipated at the end of the appointed time.
"And those caught outside?" Zared asked softly of the first group of scouts to report back.
"Some die," one of the scouts said, "but most live, although their horror is dreadful to watch." "Live?"
The scout took a moment to answer. "They live," he finally said, "but in a state of madness. Sometimes
they eat dirt, or chew on their own excrement. I have seen some try to couple with boulders, and others
stuff pebbles into every orifice they can find until their bodies burst. But many who live past their first
infection тАФ and those dangerous few hours post-infection when they might kill themselves in their
madness тАФ wander westwards, sometimes north-west."
The scout paused again, locking eyes with his fellows. Then he turned back to Zared and Caelum. "It is as
if they have been infused with a purpose."
At that Zared had shuddered. A purpose? To what end? What were the Demons planning?
But the scouts had yet more to report. One group had also seen seven black shapes running eastwards
across the Plains of Tare towards the Ancient Barrows. Horses they thought, but were not sure. Above them
had flown a great dark cloud . . . that whispered.