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

". . . a black magician!"

"There's no such thing, as you well know, Khabo! Only the ignorant lower classes believe in magic."

"Think what you like, Stannel. Gemme's cousin Shanda saw the dead aurochs herself. Killed seven
people it did, before they speared it to death."

"Amazing! Shanda got off her back for long enough to see something outside of her own bedroom! I
thought she wasfartoo busy for that." Despite the catty comment Stannel was plainly impressed.

"She's thirty years younger than you, old man. If she'd accepted you, she'd have run off with some sailor
by now."

"True. Now, instead, the sailors can come to her. So you say they're offering a reward for this so-called
magician?"

"Yes! The Patrician himself has put up five hundred . . . in gold! The brave Guard-Captain who stopped
the magician is leading the house-to-house search in person. The boy's to be killed on sight, before he
can use his black powers!"
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Forgetting his supposed disbelief in magic, Stannel interjected, "I thought they had to light black candles,
draw pentacles and . . . you know . . . sacrifice babies and things to do their spells."

"Huh! This one did all that years ago! The Guard-Captain said that the magician was raping a baby girl
when they caught him!"

"No! Monster! I hope they're going to make him die slowly."

"It's not safe, I tell you! He blasted his way though six buildings and a man to escape. His kind you kill
the minute you see them, preferably before he sees you."

"Speak for yourself! IfIsee him, I'm going to run like hell. What's he look like?"

With a sinking heart Keilin listened to a surprisingly accurate description of himself. Why the hell couldn't
Kemp have lied about that too?

"What I don't understand is how come he didn't just blast that Guard-Captain to ash too?"

"Guard-Captain Kemp's a deeply religious man. He believes God protected him against the bolts of the
evil and unholy. . . ." The conversation faded off down the stairwell.

Keilin sat there in silence, hands over his face. Holy mother . . . the gangs were after him, the
townspeople'd kill him on sight, Kemp was hunting house to house for him, and the whiners . . . and a
reward from the Patrician. That one puzzled him though. The citizens of Port T. knew that that bastard
never parted with the gold he extracted with infinite care from all his subjects, even the whores, beggars
and thieves. And, by all reports, what happened in the cellars beneath the Patrician's palace would make