"Lyndon Hardy - The Master of Five Magics" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hardy Lyndon)

before. Of course, the perfect source, he thought.

JO

As the last rays of the sun faded, the detachment of artillery slowly returned to the besieging
circle and both sides made ready for the cessation of action for the day. As elsewhere, the
stunned silence continued for several minutes more up on the high keep. Finally the sergeant
turned for the archway.

"In two days, for certain," he muttered..

"A waste of time, if you ask me, Alodar," Morwin said irritably as they stumbled along the
passageway that evening. "How are we, in a single night, going to find something that has eluded
the occupants of this fortress for probably three hundred years? And with a single torch yet? Why,
I can barely make you out two feet before me, let alone some secret mark along these clammy walls.
And you know Periac is probably pacing his quarters right now, wanting a full report on what
happened today with the air gondola. Let's be done with this, I say."

"Not just yet, Morwin," Alodar said. "I admit it seems hopeless, but what are we to do? Just
follow through our prescribed tasks until the inevitable happens?"

"Oh, by the taws, Alodar, I relish this entrapment as little as you. But I would rather save my
strength for something useful tomorrow, rather than burning off my evening gruel sloshing through
puddles in the dark, three full flights beneath the ground."

"But look, Morwin, there must be something to aid us here. Some clue to help us break the siege.
Think about it. Why are these passages and chambers under the walls even here? The whole castle is
laid out with such an economy of design, not a wasted stone anywhere. The perfect fortress, the
men-at-arms say. The flanking towers project out just the right amount to cover walls of optimum
height. Crenelations and loopholes are cut to maximize both protection and density of fire. The
central keep is pocked with bartizans of all sizes for observation of missile launching. With all
of that care, why honeycomb the thing with these subterranean caverns unless they too somehow play
in the defense?"

"Well then, for what do the records of the builders say all of this is to be used? We use the
chamber under the northeast tower on the first level as an area of discipline.



Perhaps this place was intended to be a grand dungeon?"

"With this layout, hardly. There aren't any small cells, just long corridors connecting large
chambers, and no gates to impede one's access. And as to the builders, would that we could ask
them. The sagas say only that when the scions of Procolon first pushed into these desolate western
lands they found the Iron Fist open and unoccupied. The portcullis was up and the oaken doors of
the gatehouse full ajar. Inside was nary a trace of man or beast or any sign that any had ever
been here. Just mute stone in a silent wasteland. Vendora's forefathers used their luck well,
granted. They garrisoned the place, and ever since it has protected Procolon's western flank with
its grip of iron against the likes of a Bandor gone wild. But no one living knows more of this
castle's secrets than even you or ... Hold, I think we are under the Keep again."