"Michael Moorcock - The Runestaff 3 - The Sword of The Dawn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moorcock Michael)

would tell him what he needed to know of the growing
threat he felt was about to engulf him both psychically
and physically.

The sun rose, brightening the water with its pale
light, and Count Brass heard a sound, turned, and saw
his daughter Yisselda, golden-haired madonna of the
lagoons, an almost preternatural figure in her flowing
blue gown, riding bareback her white horned Kamarg
horse and smiling mysteriously as if she, too, knew
some secret that he could never fully comprehend.

Count Brass sought to avoid the girl by stepping out

briskly along the shore, but already she was riding
close to him and waving.

"FatherЧyou're up early! Not for the first time re-
cently."

Count Brass nodded, turned again to contemplate
the waters and the reeds, looked up suddenly at the
dancing birds as if to catch them by surprise, or by
some instinctive flash of divination learn the secret of
their strange, almost frenetic gyrations.

Yisselda had dismounted and now stood beside him.
"They are not our flamingoes," she said. "And yet
they're so like them. What do you see?"

Count Brass shrugged and smiled at her. "Noth-
ing. Where's Hawkmoon?"

"At the castle. He's still asleep."

Count Brass grunted, clasping his great hands to-
gether as if in desperate prayer, listening to the beat-
ing of the heavy wings overhead. Then he relaxed and
took her by the arm, guiding her along the bank of the
lagoon.

"It's beautiful," she murmured. "The sunrise."

Count Brass made a small gesture of impatience.
"You don't understand . . ." he began, and then
paused. He knew that she would never see the land-
scape as he saw it. He had tried once to describe it to
her, but she had lost interest quickly, had made no
effort to understand the significance of the patterns he
detected everywhereЧin the water, the reeds, the trees,