"David Farland - Runelords 4 - The Lair of Bones" - читать интересную книгу автора (Farland David)

Those closest to the palanquin fell down upon their hands and knees, bowing in respect. Their humped
bodies, draped in robes of white linen and rising up above the lanterns set on the ground, looked like
rounded stones thrusting up from a river of light.

Farther back in the crowd, some fought for a closer view. Women screamed and pounded their breasts,
offering themselves to Raj Ahten. Men shouted words of undying gratitude. Babes cried in fear and
wonder.

The applause thundered. The cheers rose up like fumes above the city and echoed from low hills a mile


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 Lair of Bones The

away and from the high stone walls of the Palace of the Elephant itself.

Raj Ahten grinned. The deed pained him. He had taken many wounds in the Battle of Kartish, wounds
that would have killed any lesser man, and some of those were to his face. He lay back on his silken
pillows, reveled in the gentle sway of his palanquin as the bearers marched in step, and watched the
frightened doves circle above the city, floating like ashes above the light.

It seemed the start of a perfect day.

Gradually, something caught his attention. Ahead, people bowed to do obeisance, but among the
humped shapes one man remained standing.

He wore the gray robes of the Ah'kellah, the judges of the desert. Upon his right hip, his robe had been
thrown back, revealing the handle of his saber. He held his head high, so that the black ringlets attached to
his simple iron war helm cascaded over his shoulders and down his back. Wuqaz? Raj Ahten wondered.
Wuqaz Faharaqin come to fight at last? Offering a duel?

The humble peasants nearby looked up at the judge fearfully from the corners of their eyes, and some
begged him to fall down and do obeisance, while others chided him for his deportment.

Raj Ahten's palanquin came up beside the Ah'kellah, and Raj Ahten raised his hand, calling for his
procession to stop.

Immediately, the pounding of the drums ceased, and every man in the army halted. The crowd fell
silent, except for the bawling of a few babes.

The air nearly crackled with intensity, and the thoughts of the flameweavers burned into the back of
Raj Ahten's consciousness. Kill him, they whispered. Kill him. You could burn him to cinders, make an
example of him. Let the people see your glory.

Not yet, Raj Ahten whispered in return, for since his near death in the battle at Kartish, Raj Ahten's own
eyes burned with hidden fires now. I will not unveil myself yet.

Fire had claimed his life, had filled him with a light divine yet unholy. His old self had burned away,
and from the cinders had risen a new man--Scathain, Lord of Ash.