"David Eddings - The Elenium 3 - The Saphire Rose" - читать интересную книгу автора (Eddings David)

a strange and ultimately earth-shaking experience. While
searching in the hills for a straying goat, the lad, Otha by
name, came across a hidden, vine-covered shrine which
had been erected in antiquity by one of the numerous
Styric cults. The shrine had been raised to a weathered
idol which was at once grotesquely distorted and at the
same time oddly compelling. As Otha rested from the
rigours of his climb, he heard a hollow voice address
him in the Styric tongue. 'Who art thou, boy?' the voice
inquired.
'My name is Otha,' the lad replied haltingly, trying to
remember his Styric.
'And hast thou come to this place to pay obeisance to
me, to fall down and worship me?'
'No,' Otha answered with uncharacteristic truthfulness.
"What I'm really doing is trying to find one of my goats.'

There was a long pause. Then the hollow, chilling voice
continued. "And what must I give thee to wring from thee
thine obeisance and thy worship? None of thy kind hath
attended my shrine for five thousand years, and I hunger
for worship - and for souls.'
Otha was certain at this point that the voice was that
of one of his fellow herders playing a prank on him,
and he determined to turn the joke around. "Oh,' he
said in an offhand manner, 'I'd like to be the king
of the world, to live forever, to have a thousand ripe
young girls willing to do whatever I wanted them to
do, and a mountain of gold - and, oh yes, I want my
goat back.'
"And wilt thou give me thy soul in exchange for these
things?'

Otha considered it. He had been scarcely aware of the
fact that he had a soul, and so its loss would hardly
inconvenience him. He reasoned, moreover, that if this
were not, in fact, some juvenile goatherd prank, and if
the offer were serious, failure to deliver even one of his
impossible demands would invalidate the contract. 'Oh, all
right,' he agreed with an indifferent shrug, '- but first I'd
like to see my goat - just as an indication of good faith.'
'Turn thee around then, Otha,' the voice commanded,
"and behold that which was lost.'

Otha turned, and sure enough, there stood the missing
goat, idly chewing on a bush and looking curiously at him.
Quickly he tethered her to the bush. At heart, Otha was
a moderately vicious lad. He enjoyed inflicting pain on
helpless creatures. He was given to cruel practical jokes,
to petty theft, and, whenever it was safe, to a form of