"Janet Morris - Silistra 4 - The Carnelian Throne" - читать интересную книгу автора (Morris Janet E)

riverbank white. A moment later, the bright noise cracked through my head. The hillock trembled.
Over the gate danced the lightning. Its crackling fingers quested down thick-crossed slabs of iron,
seared flesh. Emblazoned as they tumbled were those six-legged amphibians, their streamered tails
lashing, scaled, fangful heads thrown back in dismay. I saw their afterimage: beryl and cinnabar, aglow
upon the storm. Then their charred remains splashed into oblivion, spun away on the fast current.
тАЬDown!тАЭ One man shouted, the other shoved me, and as I staggered to kneel in the sedges, the god
that washed this land shook it, grumbling. I crouched on my hands and knees on the bucking sod,
between them. Little protection could they offer up against shaking earth and searing sky, not even for
themselves, without divorcing themselves from the reality they had come here to explore. And that they
would not do.
Somewhere far off the weather struck earth again. We knelt on a fast-declining shore. On our right
and left, steeps ascended, cresting in a plume of dense rain forest. In that moment of illumination the
whole river valley and the gate setтАФinto the river stood bared of shadow. Six times the height of a man
was that gate. Its bars must have been driven deep in the riverbed itself, into the rock far below the
choppy water. Where the shore reared up, the gate was fitted into a wall: featureless, towering undulant
up the banks, extending undi-minished into the forest. For a swath about its base the earth was black and
devoid of vegetation.
тАЬDid you see that?тАЭ I yelled into the wind, which, like a hymn to power in its last stanza, trailed off to
a murmur as the rains recommenced.
тАЬHigher ground, before any of those six-legged toothfulnesses decide to take a stroll!тАЭ His roar
echoing in the abating galeтАЩs last howls, the cahndor of Nemar lifted me bodily to my feet. The other man
shaded his eyes with his hand and peered up into the enshrouded sky before he abandoned his squat. He
has borne many names, before that time and since: we will call him Sereth.
тАЬChayin, I would take a closer look,тАЭ Sereth called, wiping his streaming brow. Chayin rendi Indue,
cahndor of Nemar, co-cahndor of the Taken Lands, Chosen Son of Tar-Kesa, and in his own right a
god, ceased dragging me across the suck and slide of the sedges. The nictitating membranes snapped full
over his black eyes. For a silent mo-ment the gazes of the two men locked, and the worth of a thousand
words was exchanged therein. Then Chayin nodded and propelled meтАЩtoward the gate. Or to where it
must be, beyond the sheeting rain, white as if boiled, through which little could be seen for farther than a
man might extend his hand.
Sereth dropped back behind, blade drawn, si-dling through the grass with his eyes turned riverward,
that he might see a slither, a shifting of reeds, a muck-covered, armored snout before its owner could
make a strike.
We had seen few of them, these legged ones. We had seen their larger cousins, who have no legs, in
the open seas to the north. They were much the same; irridescent, scales striped their lengths; their
wide-hinged jaws, fringed round with glowing streamers ever-changing in hue and deadly with poisonous
barbs, boasted two rows of blade-sharp teeth; their eyes were bilious, side-set under pro-trusions of
bone. One of them could doubtless shred a woman-sized carcass free from flesh in less time than it takes
to realize dreaming in sleep.
Though some might say I am sufficient protec-tion unto myself, I was glad of SerethтАЩs sword behind
me, and ChayinтАЩs upon my left, on that shore. I squinted into the rain, straining for sight of the sun.
Somewhere, unvanquished, it lurked behind the black-bellied clouds that had come so fast down from
the north to envelop us. Beneath my booted feet, the reeds gave way. I lurched, gasped, sank
ankle-deep into the mush.
Chayin whirled. Then, chuckling, he offered out his free hand. I took itтАФhis, deep, rich brown,
surrounded mine, copper with a muted tinge of lightтАФand he pulled me from the slurping sink. Sereth,
brows down-drawn, stepped with care.
Once again the angered giant hurled firebolt to earth. At that flashing signal the rain stopped, asudden
as if the lightningтАЩs heat had razed all moisture from the land. The sedges began to steam, throwing off
their putrid perfume.