"James Lowder - The Harpers 05 - The Ring of Winter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lowder James)

stand in without ducking and twice that in width. The blaze contained in this gaping maw cast a monstrously
large shadow of the slight-framed man throughout the room. The darkness fluttered across a mummy
stretched out in its glass sarcophagus, the dozens of shields and polearms hung upon the walls, the thick,
embroidered drapes covering the glass doors, and the stunning self-portrait Theron had painted. The
jewel-encrusted statue of a beautiful, fanged woman crouching opposite the fireplace was never touched by
shadow. A light shone upon it no matter how dark the study became. No one knew exactly who the statue
depictedтАФsome ancient and long-ago abandoned demigod was the most common hypothesis. Theron liked
the woman's looks, so he refused to sell it to any of the collectors or museum curators who bid for it.
Kwee Chan Sen was right at home in the unusual surroundings of Theron Silvermace's study. He was a
native of the eastern nation of Shou Lung and had the rounded features, almond-shaped eyes, and
night-black hair of those highly cultured people. He wore a silk patch to hide the eye made blind and
milk-white by a barbarian arrow. His hair hung in a warrior's topknot, an honor he had gained from five
successful campaigns. Kwee had left Shou Lung four years earlier, when his uncle, the former minister of
war, was executed for treason. He had joined up with Theron during a trek across the Hordelands; now he
lived in the explorer's sprawling home, a setting he found conducive to contemplation of his family's
disgrace.
"I am going to make myself some tea," Kwee said softly as he crossed the room. There was a strange,
frightened look on his usually serene face. "You should take some, Theron. Perhaps it will expel the fever."
"Tea," Theron scoffed. "Better bring me some brandy instead. How about you, Artus?" When the
younger man shook his head, Theron said, "Bring him one anyway."
After Kwee was gone, Theron pushed himself up on the daybed. "Odd, but he doesn't like to hear about
the goblins," he said. "He's fought barbarians and orcs, and all sorts of weird Shou beasts, but these stories
really unnerve him."
Artus was certain it was the effect the goblins had wrought upon Theron that was disturbing to the loyal
Kwee, but he said nothing. Instead, he asked, "How did you escape?"
"As I said," Theron murmured, "they did in the guide and the bearers. Me and some poor fellow from a
neighboring villageтАФa chief's son named KwaluтАФthey were saving for a sacrifice to some . . . thing they
worship. Grumog, they called it. I used to hear its roars echoing up from the pitтАФdid I tell you this god-thing
lived in some underground cavern? No? Well the goblins intended to toss me and this Kwalu fellow into the
pit at the center of their village. We were to be sacrifices to that horrible beast. . . ."
Theron's eyes glazed, and Artus sat back to wait. It had been this way all evening: fits of relatively lucid
discussion, followed by periods in which Theron lapsed into silence or incoherent babbling. He'd been at the
older man's side since arriving an hour ago. It had taken until an hour before that to settle the sizeable bill
for damages to the society's library and healers for the unfortunate Ariast. She'd recover from the guardian
spirit's attackтАФeventually. Fortunately, Hydel had volunteered to write the necessary
apology-disguised-as-a-report for the society president. Things would be smoothed over, but at the cost of
more than a third of the money gained from their last expedition.
"Snow," Theron muttered. "I never in my life thought snow would save me in the jungle." Artus turned
sharply to find Theron staring at him. "That's what saved me from the goblins and whatever it was they
worshiped."
Is he rambling again? Artus wondered. Snow in the jungle, in the middle of the hot season? But when he
looked at the bedraggled explorer, Theron's eyes were clear. "Can you be sure they didn't move you to a
mountain village?" Artus asked.
"When I escaped I was nowhere near the mountains," Theron snapped. "I've been through more jungles
than you've been through taverns, so I know what I'm talking about."
"Someone with an incantation to control the weather? They're common enough."
Theron smiled. "Oh, it was someone with magic all right, but no damned spell. It was the Ring of
Winter."
"Just because it snowed doesn't mean the ring's there," Artus sighed. Obviously a fever dream had
granted this delusion about the ring. He rose slowly. "Is there anything I can do for you before I leave? I'll