"David Gemmel - Sipstrassi Tales 03 - Bloodstone" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gemmel David)

So I felt a great sadness as I walked across to the silver and blue craft that would carry us high towards
the future. The sun was setting in glory as we waited for take-off. I buckled the seat-belt and took out my
Bible. There was no solace to be found.
Saul was sitting beside me, gazing from the window. 'A beautiful evening, Deacon,' he said.
Indeed it was. But the winds of change were already stirring. -
We rose smoothly into the air, the pilot informing us that the weather was changing for the worse, but that
we would reach the Bahamas before the storm. I knew this would not be so.
Higher and higher we flew, and it was Saul who first saw the portent.
'How strange,' he said, tapping my arm. 'The sun appears to be rising again.'
'This is the last day, Saul,' I told him. Glancing down I saw that he had unfastened his seat-belt. I told him
to buckle it. He had just done so when the first of those terrible winds struck the plane, almost flipping it.
Cups, books, trays, bags all flew into the air, and there were screams of terror from our fellow
passengers.
Saul's eyes were squeezed shut in prayer, but I was calm. I leaned to my right and stared from the
window. The great wave had lifted now, and was hurtling towards the coast.
I thought of the people of the city. There were those who were even now merely observing what they
saw to be a miracle, the setting sun rising again. They would smile perhaps, or clap their hands in wonder.
Then their eyes would be drawn to the horizon. At first they would assume a low thundercloud was
darkening the sky. But soon would come the terrible realisation that the sea had risen to meet the sky,
and was bearing down upon them in a seething wall of death.
I turned my eyes away. The plane juddered, then rose and fell, twisting and helpless against the awesome
power of the winds. All of the passengers believed that death would soon follow. Except me.
I knew.
I took one last glance from the window. The city looked so small now, its mighty towers seemingly no
longer than a child's finger. Lights shone at the windows of the towers, cars still thronged the freeways.
And then they were gone.
Saul opened his eyes, and his terror was very great. 'What is happening, Deacon?'
'The end of the world, Saul.'
'Are we to die?'
'No. Not yet. Soon you will see what the Lord has planned for us.'
Like a straw in a hurricane the plane hurtled through the sky.
And then the colours came, vivid reds and purples washing over the fuselage, masking the windows. As if
we had been swallowed by a rainbow. Then they were gone. Four seconds perhaps. Yet in those four
seconds I alone knew that several hundred years had passed.
'It has begun, Saul,' I said.
 CHAPTER ONE
The pain was too great to ignore, and nausea threatened to swamp him as he rode. But the Preacher
clung to the saddle and steered the stallion up towards the Gap. The full moon was high in the clear sky,
the distant mountain peaks sharp and glistening white against the skyline. The sleeve of the rider's black
coat was still smouldering, and a gust of wind brought a tongue of flame. Fresh pain seared through him
and he beat at the cloth with a smoke-blackened hand.
Where were they now, he thought, pale eyes scanning the moonlit mountains and the lower passes? His
mouth was dry and he reined in the stallion. A canteen hung from the pommel and the Preacher hefted it,
unscrewing the brass cap. Lifting it to his lips, he found it was filled not with water but with a fiery spirit.
He spat it out and hurled the canteen away.
Cowards! They needed the dark inspiration of alcohol to aid them on their road to murder. His anger
flared, momentarily masking the pain. Far down the mountain, emerging from the timber line he saw a
group of riders. His eyes narrowed. Five' men. In the clear air of the mountains he heard the distant
sound of laughter.
The rider groaned and swayed in the saddle, the pounding in his temple increasing. He touched the