"Laurell K. Hamilton - Ravenloft - Death of a Darklord" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hamilton Laurell K)

He lay, weak and gasping, on the bed. Sweat covered his body. His hand was limp, too weak to hold
JonathanтАЩs. Jonathan cradled the trembling limb in both his own. A single tear trailed into his beard.

Tereza stared at him; no tears, but he could see a deep roaring pain in her eyes. He had never seen her
cry. He was glad this would not be the first time. Konrad had moved away from the bed, arms folded,
angry eyes uncertain. тАЬLet me bring in the others. They need to say good-bye.тАЭ JonathanтАЩs voice was a
soft rumble.

тАЬNo,тАЭ Calum gasped. He wanted to shake his head but was too weak. Talking was almost beyond him.
тАЬYoung ones . . . should not. . . see me . . . like this.тАЭ тАЬThey love you, Calum.тАЭ

тАЬFrighten them ... it will frighten them.тАЭ

Jonathan didnтАЩt argue. He raised CalumтАЩs hand very gently to his face, pressing the weak flesh to his
beard. тАЬYou have always been a good friend to me, Calum. I wish I could help you in this.тАЭ

тАЬDo you want me to get the housekeeper?тАЭ Kon-rad asked. тАЬShe said the doctor should be here soon.тАЭ
He seemed eager to leave, to have something to do besides stare at the end of all flesh.

тАЬGo,тАЭ Calum said.

Konrad did not wait to be told again. He went, his strong body striding across the rug, easily,
unthinkingly. Calum hated him for it. The housekeeper entered. She was a small, round woman, her hair
in a neat bun on top of her head. She smiled at the room as if nothing were wrong. In front of company,
she was always her same cheerful self. In private she had mastered his moods. When he needed
sympathy, she gave it. When he needed matter-of-factness, she gave that. Calum had come to love that
plain, smiling face. The doctor followed at her heels. He was a small, bent man with a mane of
snow-white hair. If Calum hadnтАЩt been twenty years older, the doctor would have seemed old. His face
was professionally cheerful. Nothing showed on his face or body unless the doctor wished it to. Calum
envied his control. тАЬIтАЩm afraid this visit has to end,тАЭ the doctor said. тАЬI need to see how our friend here is
doing.тАЭ

Jonathan pressed his hand. тАЬIтАЩll see you soon, Calum.тАЭ Calum stared into his friendтАЩs face and said
nothing. They both knew this might be the last time.

Tereza kissed him on the forehead, her lips soft. Her long hair fanned around his face, smelling of herbs:
pinenut, rosemary, sweet lavender. She said something in her native tongueтАФmusical, guttural. A
blessing, or a curse. It mattered little now.

Konrad had never returned. He did not come to say good-bye. He had never been comfortable around
the sick. Calum hadnтАЩt wanted any of them to see him like this. Now the fact that Konrad had not said
good-bye filled him with rage. The doctorтАЩs visit was mercifully short. He left another bottle of medicine,
for what good it would do, and took his leave, still pleasant, still smiling. What do you say to a patient
who is dying, and everyone knows it? The housekeeper followed the doctor out. She would escort all his
friends outside, see they had a cup of tea or a sandwich. Her glance paused on the far wall and the
brilliant wall hanging that covered it. Her pleasant face flashed in disapproval, then she closed the door
behind her. In the silence of the room the tapestry pulled back with a soft, thick sound. A tall, slender
man stepped from the hidden door. His hair was long, thick, and so black that the weak sunlight made
blue highlights on it. His fashionably trimmed beard and mustache framed a handsome face. A face for
women to sigh over in romantic moments. He had a graceful, swinging stride that brought him gliding into