"Paul S. Kemp - Erevis Cale 1 - Twilight Falling" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kemp Paul S)

For the first time, the priest's eyes went to Vraggen's broach pinтАФa jawless skull in a purple
sunburstтАФthe symbol of Cyric the Dark Sun. Fear flashed in his brown eyes. He uttered a prayer under his
breath.
"Is it reasonable for me to assume that you understand your situation?" Vraggen asked.
"I don't know anything," the Tymoran blurted. "I swear! Nothing."
Vraggen nodded and stood. "We shall see."
He beckoned Dolgan and Azriim forward. His agents stepped up to the priest, grabbed him by the arms,
and lifted him to his feet.
"Don't! Please don't!" the priest pleaded.
Vraggen stared into the captive's fear-filled face. For effect, he let shadows leak from his hands and
dance around his head. The Tymoran's breath audibly caught.
"You are a shadow adept," the priest whispered.
Vraggen didn't bother to answer; the shadows were answer enough.
"I'll tell you everything I know."
"Of course you will," Vraggen said. "The only issue is whether or not I feel I can trust you to tell me the
truth without my having to resort to more forceful means. The resolution of that issue will determine
whether or not your last moments are spent in pain."
The priest's lips trembled. He looked into Vraggen's eyes.
"I have a family," he said.
Vraggen was unmoved.
"No doubt they will miss you," Azriim said, smiling.
Dolgan too grinned and shifted from foot to foot, fairly giddy at the thought of bloodshed. The
Cormyrean had a fetish for painтАФadministering it, and receiving it.
 The priest's whole body began to shake. Tears began to leak from his eyes.
"Why are you doing this? I don't even know you. I don't know any of you."
Azriim scoffed, "What does that have to do with it?"
Vraggen patted the priest's cheek, as close as he would come to offering comfort, and said, "I am going
to cast a spell that will subject your will to me. Do not resist it. I know that you will speak the truth under
the effect of this spell. That is the only way I can be certain. Otherwise...."
He left the threat unspoken, but the priest took the point. He nodded in resignation.
Vraggen smiled and said, "You've made the right decision."
Beside the captive, Dolgan sighed in disappointment.
Vraggen ignored the Cormyrean, drew on the Shadow Weave, and pronounced the arcane words to a
spell that would make the Tymoran his thrall. When he finished, the captive priest's eyes went vacant. Ever
careful, Vraggen verified that his spell had taken hold of the priest by casting a second spell that allowed
him to see dweomers.
The priest glowed a soft red in his sight, indicating that he was under the effect of a spell. Surprisingly,
so too did Dolgan and Azriim. Vraggen looked a question at his lieutenants.
Azriim took the sense of that look immediately. He held up one long fingered hand, upon which hung a
platinum band.
"Our rings, Vraggen."
Vraggen nodded. He had forgotten that each of his lieutenants wore a ring that warded them against
scrying. He turned his attention back to the captive priest.
"About one year ago, your adventuring company looted a ruined temple in the Sunset Mountains. Do you
remember?"
"Yes," the priest answered in a monotone.
The priest and his comrades, calling themselves the Band of the Broken Bow, had happened upon an
abandoned temple of Shar that Vraggen had been seeking for months.
"Among the treasures you took from those ruins was a crystal globe of gray quartz, about fist-sized and
inset with chips of gemstones." Vraggen tried to keep his voice level when he asked the next question. "Do