"Clayton Emery - Runesword 01 - Outcasts" - читать интересную книгу автора (Emery Clayton)

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1

Elizebith ran and fell and scrambled up and ran and fell again.
The fresh-fallen leaves and tilted slope were treacherous un-
der the slick soles of her boots. Naked branches of bramble
and scrub oak clutched at her, tearing and cutting, pricking
her a thousand times about the face and hands and neck. The
giri slipped once more on a leafy rock and fell, banging her
knee. She knelt, clutching her leg and crying silently. Letting
the tears flow helped the painтАФin her knee. anyway. Her
heartache was something else.

Bith was tall and dark, slim and soft, with flowing brown-
black hair and eyes that were almost luminous. She wore a
dark outfit of shin and pants with a deep blue cloak over all.
Around her middle was a wide yellow belt that matched her
fine-tooled boots. The belt's grinning devil-face buckle and
dozen small pouches marked her as a magic user.

The girl tried to quiet her breathing enough to hear the
pursuit. Far down the ravine could be heard the cursing of
men as they thrashed through the dark underbrush. Bith didn't
know how many there were, but there were enough to comb
the ravine easily without missing her. She looked up at the
fading light. The days were short now. Scaly branches made

2 RUNESWORD ^LUME ONE

a spider's web that laced the overcast twilight. The brush was
so thick it was like looking up through a latticework basket.
Even where she crouched there were branches reaching for
her soft skin. She hadn't known how thick the brush grew up
this ravine. She should have found out, she berated herself,
she should have teamed her own neck of the woods' It was
stupid to not know what lay at the head of this ravine. Did it
open into meadow, or more forest, or drop down again to
more brush? She should have found out before now, now
when she was fleeing and learning the hard way. The lesson
for today. Live and learn, she thought bitteriy. Learn or die.
Somewhere below her a man barked an oath. Her heart flut-
tered. He was close. She pinched her knee into numbness
and crept uphill through the brambles-
In truth, she hadn't lived in her tiny ramshackle cottage
long enough to leam where much of anything was. Living
alone meant so much to do- Fetch water, tend the fire, check
the snares before the foxes got to them, gather roots. This
was why men had wives and the wealthy had servants. It was
an all-day affair just to keep fed and warm. There was no