"David Freer - The Forlorn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Freer Dave)

defensive reactions. To the Morkth trainers the best form of defense is attack. The old cords that bound
his wrists were no match for S'kith's iron-hard muscles. They snapped, and he was moving, propelled by
his still-bound legs. The knife wrist was seized, forced down. The blade of his hand struck the knife
wielder's neck. There was an audible brittle crack.

Without pausing to look at his fallen victim, S'kith took the knife and sliced his ankles free. Stepping into
a crouch, knife extended, he advanced on the other person who had entered the cave with her.

"Keep away from me, you bloody madman! You've killed the old woman! You'll hang for that!" There
was real fear in the fat man's voice as he edged back against the wall.

S'kith paused. "Woman? That was . . . a woman?"

Trying to press his way back into a crevice behind him, the man stuttered. "Yeah, I, I know she was an
ol' bitch, and as ugly as sin, but you didn't haveta'kill her. Just . . . just lemme out, okay?"
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"You are sure that was a woman? Are you a woman too?"

"Me!" Squeaked the fat one. "No . . . no really, I'm a man. Just like you. I saw . . . it . . . it . . . it was an
accident. Honestly! Now I'll just go an' tell the Sheriff . . ." He made a sudden lunge, attempting to reach
the mouth of the cave. S'kith cut him down without remorse. He'd killed a woman . . . that was wrong . .
. somehow. He'd never wanted tokill warrior-brood women. He looked down at the tumbled body.
Was this really what they looked like?

He lifted the dead woman's skirt. Yes, undoubtedly. She was physically different from him. Sothat was
what it actually looked like. He had never been able tosee it properly before. His emotions, those strange
puzzling feelings, were stirred. If he had known the term he would have said that he was saddened by the
killing. So, as it was what the females in the Morkth cells had always wanted of him, he had sex with the
body. It was not particularly pleasant, but he felt it was the least he could do. Getting up afterwards he
realized he was hungry. So he cut himself some hunks off his male victim, and ate them. He took some of
the clothes and dressed. He stropped the knife carefully, and shaved his face and head. Then he cut
some more steaks for later, put them into a sack, and set out into a world he felt he did not belong in.
The gold from the slave buyer's purse was left scattered in the dirt of the cave floor. He had no idea that
it was of any value.
***

It was nearly four hours later that the hue and cry was raised. The country was up in pursuit of the
monster: Rapist, Murderer and Cannibal.




CHAPTER 4
The thin stream of filth spilled out of the broken pipe and onto the sand. Once, the pipe had extended far
out into the breakers. But time and storms had eaten at it. Now, at low tide it spilled into a series of filthy
pools and then trickled into the sea. Occasional seagulls swooped and picked, their mournful cries