"David Gemmell - Troy, Lord Of The Silver Bow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gemmel David)

Gershom shook his head.

тАШFine craft - if the captain keeps her shipshape, clean of barnacles, and if the crew are well trained. The
Mirion has none of these advantages.тАЩ The man peered at him closely. тАШYou should sail with me, on the
Xanthos.тАЩ1

тАШThe Death Ship? I think not.тАЩ

The bald manтАЩs face darkened. тАШAh well, all men make choices, Gyppto. I hope you donтАЩt come to rue
yours.тАЩ

Another crack of thunder boomed in the heavens. The wind picked up again. Gershom carefully rolled
onto his stomach and gripped the edges of the driftwood.

To sleep is to die.
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Part One

THE GREAT GREEN
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I

TheCaveofWings

The twelve men, in ankle-length cloaks of black wool, stood silently at the cave mouth. They did not
speak or move. The early autumn wind was unnaturally chill, but they did not blow warm breath on cold
hands. Moonlight shimmered on their bronze breastplates and white crested helmets, on their embossed
wrist guards and greaves, and on the hilts of the short swords scabbarded at their waists. Yet despite the
presence of cold metal against their bodies they did not shiver.

The night grew colder, and it began to rain as midnight approached. Hail fell, and clattered against their
armour. And still they did not move.

Then came another warrior, tall and stooping, his cloak flapping in the fierce wind. He too was
armoured, though his cuirass was inlaid with gold and silver, as were the helmet and greaves he wore.

тАШIs he inside?тАЩ he asked, his voice deep.

тАШYes, my king,тАЩ answered one of the men, tall and broad-shouldered, with deep-set grey eyes. тАШHe will
summon us when the gods speak.тАЩ