"Katherine Kerr - Deverry 06 - A Time Of Omens" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kerr Katherine)

shrike nailed to a farmerтАЩs barn, was the corpse of a man, half-eaten by ravens and well ripened by the
spring weather. Yet the worst thing wasnтАЩt the stench. The corpse was hung upside down and
mutilatedтАФthe head cut off and nailed between its legs with what seemed to beтАФfrom the fragment
leftтАФits private parts stuffed into its mouth. Branoic stared for a long moment, then turned and ran to the
shelter of the palisade to vomit, heavily and noisily.

тАЬUh gods!тАЭ Owaen whispered. тАЬWhat?!тАЭ

For all his aplomb earlier, Nevyn looked half sick now, his face dead white and looking with all its
wrinkles more like old parchment than ever. He ran his tongue over dry lips and spoke at last.

тАЬA would-be deserter, most like, or a traitor of some sort. They left him that way so heтАЩd roam as a
haunt forever. All right, lads, get back to the troop. I think theyтАЩll all agree that we donтАЩt truly want to
camp here tonight, shelter or not.тАЭ

тАЬI should think not, by the asses of the gods!тАЭ Owaen turned to Maddyn. тАЬI know the horses are tired,
but weтАЩd best put a couple of miles between ourselves and this place if thereтАЩs a haunt about.тАЭ

тАЬYouтАЩre going to, certainly,тАЭ Nevyn broke in. тАЬIтАЩm going to stay here.тАЭ

тАЬNot alone you arenтАЩt,тАЭ Maddyn snapped.

тАЬI donтАЩt need guards with swords, lad. IтАЩm not in danger. If I canтАЩt handle one haunt, what kind of
sorcerer am I?тАЭ

тАЬWhat about this poor bastard?тАЭ Owaen jerked his thumb at the corpse. тАЬWe should give him some
kind of burial.тАЭ

тАЬOh, IтАЩll tend to that, too.тАЭ Nevyn started walking for the gate. тАЬIтАЩll just get my horse, and then you all go
on your way. Come fetch me first thing in the morning.тАЭ

Somewhat later, when they were all making campтАФin a meadow about a mile and a half downriverтАФit
occurred to Maddyn that Nevyn seemed to know an awful lot about these mysterious people who had
left that ugly bit of sacrilege on the palisade. Although he was normally a curious man, he decided that he
could live without asking him to explain.



With the last of the sunset, Nevyn brought his horse inside the tumble-down lodge, tied him on a loose
rope to the wall and tended him, then dumped his bedroll and saddlebags near the hearth, where there
lay a sizable if dusty pile of firewood already cut, left by the hirelings of the dark dweomermaster behind
this plotтАФor so he assumed anyway. As assumptions went, it was a solid one. After he confirmed that
the chimney was clear by sticking his head up it for a look, he piled up some logs and lit them with a
wave of his hand. Once the fire had blazed up enough to illumine the room, he searched it thoroughly,
even poking at the rotting walls with the point of his table dagger. His patience paid off when under a pile
of leaves that had drifted in through a window he found a pewter disk about the size of a thumbnail, of
the kind sewn onto saddlebags and other horse gear as decorations. Stamped into it was the head of a
boar.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html