"Elrod, P N - I, Strahd 2 - War Against Azalin e-txt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

since she had not seen much of it after setting up her modest book business in
Mordentshire some twenty-five years ago.
Just as she was about to ask if he had any future plans for travel, a man pushed
through her shop door setting the little bell above to ringing. "Welcome, sir,"
she said. "If you need help, you've only to ask."
He merely grunted in response. Both Van Richten and Mrs. Heywood made a study of
the newcomer, who was rather a surprise.
Dr. Van Richten was typical of most of her clientele, a scholarly sort,
well-mannered, more interested in older, esoteric books in languages she had
never heard than in anything new. This other fellow was big and loutish looking,
dressed for a long journey rather than the paved streets of a city. His clothes
were of thick wool and leather, worn and travel-stained. He carried dust-caked
leather saddlebags over one shoulder, and they looked heavy. He turned suddenly,
surprising them in their stare. There was a haunted, guarded look in his
red-rimmed ice-blue eyes.
"You buy books?" he demanded of Mrs. Heywood.
"That's what the sign out front says."
He grunted again, then proceeded to browse among the shelves in the corner
farthest from her front counter.
The widow Heywood's book shop, (New and Vintage Tomes for the Discerning
ReaderЧBuy and Sell) tucked away on its seedy, but still respectable street, was
not the sort to command attention from the city's more refined shoppers, though
those who knew of it often came by. Off the main thoroughfare, its leaded
diamond-shaped front windows lent it a closed appearance, but the door was
always open to anyone curious enough to bother giving it a push. Not many like
this rough-looking stranger had ever bothered. He was as out of place as a plow
horse at a racing meet.
Still watching the new man, Van Richten responded to her comment. "How can the
search for knowledge be detrimental to one's health?" he asked. "I sit by a nice
fire in the winter as comfortable as can be or an open window in the summer to
take the air, and do a bit of reading between calls from patients."
She smiled and waggled her quill pen at him in a teasing manner. "Don't try
fooling me, sir. Everyone's seen how you'll shut your practice down at a
moment's notice or less, then off you go with a bang for months at a time to who
knows where, coming back all worn and wasted. I'm the only one who's observed
that some of your mysterious trips happen right after you've bought a book from
me."
He chuckled. "Not true, I was in the other week and took home several of your
excellent volumes, and here I am still."
"Ah, but those were all about herbs and healing, not one of these dark
booksЧlike this one." She nodded at the small edition that lay on the counter
between them. It was about legends and lore, containing stories about nasty
creatures and other things Mrs. Heywood would rather not think about.
"Hardly dark, my dear lady, in fact, it has rather a pretty cover." The book was
distinctive indeed, with its pale tan leather wrapping. The title, in lettering
that was not native to Mordent, was stamped into it with real gold leaf, though
time and use had caused much of it to be worn away.
"Roses are also pretty, but famous for their thorns," she wryly reminded him.
"And some of these books don't half give me nightmares."
"Only because you're sensitive to the magical energy some of them have obviously