"Robert Jordan - Conan The Magnificent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jordan Robert)

the ancient tomes called it, and if those volumes were correct about the hard,
dull bulges, the sign of the true gods' favor would soon be complete.
The creature turned its head to stare with paralyzing intensity directly
at Basrakan. The Imalla remained outwardly calm, but a core of ice formed in
his stomach, and that coldness spread, freezing his breath and the words in
his throat. That golden-eyed gaze always seemed to him filled with hatred. It
could not be hatred of him, of course. He was blessed by the true gods. Yet
the malevolence was there. Perhaps it was the contempt of a creature of the
true gods for mere mortal men. In any case, the wards he had set between the
crudely hewn granite columns would keep the drake within the circle, and the
tunnel exited only there. Or did it? Though he had often descended into the
caverns beneath the mountain-at least, in the days before he found the black
drake eggs-he had not explored the tenth part of them. There could be a score
of exits from that tangle of passages he had never found.
Those awesome eyes turned away, and Basrakan found himself drawing a
deep breath. He was pleased to note there was no shudder in it. The favor of
the old gods was truly with him.
With a speed that seemed too great for its bulk, the glittering creature
moved to within ten paces of the bound men. Suddenly the great, scaled head
went back, and from its gaping maw came a shrill ululation that froze men's
marrow and turned their bones to water. Awed silence fell among the watchers,
but one of the prisoners screamed, a high, thin sound with the reek of madness
in it. The boy fought his cords silently; blood began to trickle down his
arms.
The fiery-eyed Imalla brought his hands forward, palms up, as if
offering the drake to the assemblage. "From the depths of the earth it comes!"
he cried. "The spirits of earth are with us!"
Mouth still open, the drake's head lowered until those chill golden
eyes regarded the captives. From those gaping jaws a gout of rubescent flame
swept across the captives.
"Fire is its breath!" Basrakan shouted. "The spirits of fire are with
us!"
Two of the prisoners were sagging torches, tunic and hair aflame. The
youth, wracked with the pain of his burns, shrieked, "Mitra help me! Eldran,
I-"
The iridescent creature took two quick paces forward, and a shorter
burst of fire silenced the boy. Darting forward, the drake ripped a burning
body in half. The crunching of bones sounded loudly, and gobbets of charred
flesh dropped to the stone.
"The true gods are with us!" Basrakan declaimed. "On a day soon, the
sign of the gods' favor will fly! The spirits of air are with us!" The old
tomes had to be right, he thought. Those leathery bulges would burst, and
wings would grow. They would! "On that day we will ride forth, invincible in
the favor of the old gods, and purge the world with fire and steel! All praise
be to the true gods!"
'''All praise be to the true gods!" his followers answered.
"All glory to the true gods!"
"All glory to the true gods!"
"Death to the unbelievers!"
The roar was deafening. "DEATH TO THE UNBELIEVERSl"