"Michael Moorcock - Elric 4 - The Vanishing Tower" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moorcock Michael)

Again Moonglum shrugged his shoulders. "Aye. I
know. Perhaps I stay with you for the same reasons
that you pursue the sorcerer of Pan Tang." He grinned.
"So that's enough of debate, eh, Lord Elric?"

"Debate achieves nothing," Elric agreed. He patted
his horse's nose as more seamen, clad in colourful
Tarkeshite silks, came forward to take the horses and
hoist them down to the waiting boat.

Struggling, whinnying through the bags muffling their
heads, the horses were lowered, their hooves thudding
on the bottom of the boat as if they would stave it in.
Then Elric and Moonglum, their bundles on their
backs, swung down the ropes and jumped into the rock-


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ing craft. The sailors pushed off from the ship with their
oars and then, bodies bending, began to row for the
shore.

The late autumn air was cold. Moonglum shivered as
he stared towards the bleak cliffs ahead. "Winter is
near and I'd rather be domiciled at some friendly tavern
than roaming abroad. When this business is done with
the sorcerer, what say we head for Jadmar or one of the
other big Vilmirian cities and see what mood the
warmer clime puts us in?"

But Elric did not reply. His strange eyes stared into
the darkness and they seemed to be peering into the
depths of his own soul and not liking what they saw.

Moonglum sighed and pursed his lips. He huddled
deeper in his cloak and rubbed his hands to warm
them. He was used to his friend's sudden lapses of
silence, but familiarity did not make him enjoy them
any better. From somewhere on the shore a nightbird
shrieked and a small animal squealed. The sailors
grunted as they pulled on their oars.

The moon came out from behind the clouds and it
shone on Elric's grim, white face, made his crimson
eyes seem to glow like the coals of hell, revealed the
barren cliffs of the shore.

The sailors shipped their oars as the boat's bottom