"Jeffrey Lord - Blade 14 - The Temples of Ayocan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lord Jeffery)

wait. The torches were so bright now that making a run for it undetected would probably be impossible.
Particularly with two hundred or more warriors ready to pursue him. Blade lowered himself into a more
comfortable position and settled down to follow his own advice.
As soon as the canoes were safely beached and anchored, the warriors put away their paddles and
began climbing out. They splashed onto the beach and formed a double line extending inland from the
bow of each canoe. Then it was the priests' turn. Without breaking their chant, they filed out of the
canoes and onto the shore, unfastening their bags as they went and holding them up high over their heads.
When all had reached dry ground, the leader of each file barked a single word.
"Nolk!"
And all the priests went down on their knees, placing their bags reverently on the ground in front of
them, each at the base of one of the bushes. Except for the breathing of many men, silence fell over the
shore.
Definitely a religious rite, thought Blade. He was sorry he had not made a run for it when he first saw
the yellow, orange lights. Now it was even more dangerous than before to try to escape. Since the priests
did not seem to be coming far up the slope, the remains of his bough-bed might pass unnoticed, he
hoped.
Now each priest picked up his bag, opened it, and pulled out a large curved knife, like a pruning
knife, and a small brass bottle. With a quick slash of the knife each priest cut through the bush in front of
him. Then he picked it up, and dipped the broken end into the bottle. Finally, he laid the bush gently and
carefully aside. Blade noticed that the cutoff end now gleamed black.
The priests then rose to their feet, the chant sounded again, and each took two steps forward. Then
they knelt again and repeated the ritual. Slash-dip-lay aside. And again, and again. Blade realized with a
chilling shock that they were moving rapidly up the slope toward him, toward where he had mutilated
more than a dozen of the bushes.
The intervals between the cutting of bushes were growing longer now, and the priests were also
fanning out as they climbed. They formed a solid line nearly a quarter of a mile from end to end, with
Blade still near the center. Behind them as they advanced came the warriors, picking up the bushes as
gently as they would have picked up newborn babies and carrying them back to the canoes. Unless both
priests and warriors were blind, they must see those broken branches soon.
Blade did not have much longer to wait. Suddenly two priests broke off their chant. Their voices rose
in howls of outrage that brought all the chanting to a sudden halt. Priests and warriors alike scurried
toward the noisy two, gathered around them, and raised their own voices in lamentations. Blade saw that
the two priests in the middle were each holding up a broken-off branch with one hand, and gesturing
violently with the other. In the babble of voices rising into the night Blade could not make out a single
coherent word. But he could certainly recognize tones of anger, outrage, and grim determination.
Obviously he had committed some sort of sacrilege by taking the branches. And there went
practically any hope of quickly getting on good terms with these people. It was tempting to throw caution
to the winds and try making a run for it. But Blade's trained judgment of the situation told him he would
not get far. The warriors would be up with him before he got clear of the bushes. And he had no desire
to run like a rabbit and end up being hunted down like one.
Besides, his best remaining chance was to stay and try to make the best fight possible. Barbarian
warriors could understand and appreciate courage in battle better than anything else. He might be able to
get the warriors to take him prisoner by a show of courage and skill. There were the priests, of course,
but priests were always unpredictable. Certainly he had nothing to lose.
With only small cracklings of branches, Blade crawled out of his hiding place. The warriors striding
up the slope did not see him as he crouched in the shadows of the clump of bushes. Then he stood up,
and they did see him. The two who saw him first raised shouts of triumph and rage, making the rest of the
searchers spin around and stare at Blade. The gathering around the two priests broke up in a gabble of
voices. Blade saw drawn swords gleaming in the torchlight, and the heads of axes glistening. He made no
move to run or hide, but stood calmly in the open, hands at his sides.