"Michael Moorcock - The Runestaff 3 - The Sword of The Dawn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moorcock Michael)shook his head. "You are Elvereza Tozer, but . . ."
The mask came loose and revealed an emaciated, shifty face sporting a whispy beard which did not hide a weak, receding chin and which was dominated by a long, thin nose. The flesh of the face was unhealthy and bore the marks of a pox. "And I recall the faceЧthough it was fuller then. Pray, what has happened to you, sir?" Bowgentle asked faintly. "Are you a refugee seeking escape from your countrymen?" "Ah," Tozer sighed, darting Bowgentle a calculating look. "Perhaps. Would you have a glass of wine, sir? My encounter with your military friend here has left me thirsty, I fear." "What?" put in D'Averc. "Have you been fighting?" "Fighting to kill," Hawkmoon said grimly. "I feel that Master Tozer did not come to our Kamarg on an errand of goodwill. I found him skulking in the reeds to the south. I think he comes as a spy." wright of the world, wish to spy?" The words were de- livered by Tozer in a disdainful tone that yet some- how lacked conviction. Bowgentle bit his lip and tugged a bell rope for a servant. "That is for you to tell us, sir," Huillam D'Averc said with some amusement in his voice. He coughed ostenta- tiously. "Forgive meЧa slight chill, I think. The castle is full of drafts ..." "And I'd wish the same for myself," Tozer said, "if a draft could be found." He looked at them expectantly. "A draft to help us forget the draft, if you understand me. A draft..." "Yes, yes," said Bowgentle hastily and turned to the servant who had entered. "A jug of wine for our guest," he requested. "And would you eat, Master Tozer?" " 'I would eat the bread of Babel and the meat of Marakhan . . .'", Tozer said dreamily. " Tor all such |
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