"Dave Duncan - The Seventh Sword - 1 - The Reluctant Sword" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duncan Dave)

It did explain how he had arrived alive. Could he be kept alive?


"I told him to cover again, my lord," Jannarlu said diffidently. "He... he seemed quite pleased to do so."


There was a hint of levity there, and Honakura shot him a warning glance while he pondered. Jannarlu's ugly brown face seemed slightly flushed.


"You did not hurry, I hope?"


The Third shook his head. "No, my lord. I followed..." He gestured toward the sick old crone, who was now being helped up by her attendant
priestess.


"Well done, priest!" said Honakura, mollified. "Let us go and see this wonder of yours. We shall walk slowly, conversing of holy matters... and not
in quite the right direction, if you please."


The young man blushed with pleasure at the praise and fell into step beside him.


The great temple of the Goddess at Hann was not only the richest and oldest building in the World, it was certainly the largest. As Honakura turned
from the dais, he was faced with a seemingly endless expanse of gleaming, multicolored floor, stretching off to the seven great arches that formed
the facade. Many people were walking there, coming or going-pilgrims and their guides of the priesthood-but so vast was the space that mere


file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/D...%20-%201%20-%20The%20Reluctant%20Sword.html (2 of 173) [10/31/2004 11:36:40 PM]
 The Reluctant Swordsman

human beings seemed hardly larger than mouse droppings. Beyond the arches, out in the brilliant sunlight, lay a view of the canyon and the River
and the Judgment, whose rumbling roar had filled the temple for all its many millennia. Along the sides of the wide nave stood the shrines of lesser
gods and goddesses, and above them the fretted windows blazed in hues of ruby, emerald, amethyst, and gold.


Honakura's prayer had been answered. No... the prayers of many. He was certainly not the only one of Her servants here to make that prayer each
day, yet it was to him that the news had been brought. He must move with caution and courage and determination, but he felt warm satisfaction that
he had been chosen.


It took a long time for him to reach the arches, with the young Third fidgeting at his side. They made an odd pair, Honakura knew, in their priestly
gowns, Jannarlu in the brown of a Third and he in the blue of a Seventh. The younger man was tall, but Honakura had never been tall and now he
was shrunken and stooped, toothless and hairless. The juniors referred to him behind his back as the Wise Monkey, and the term amused him. Old
age had few amusements. In the unkind silent hours of night he would feel his bones rubbing against the sheets and quietly wish that She would
soon rescue him from it and let him start anew. Yet perhaps She was reserving him in this life for one last service, and if so, then this was surely it.
A swordsman of the seventh rank! They were rare, as the priests had discovered -rare, and very precious when needed.