"Emil Petaja - Tramontane" - читать интересную книгу автора (Petaja Emil)тАЬDown, dungeon worm! She wants you!тАЭ тАЬWants me!тАЭ Out of wonder that anyone would have use for him, and relief, Kullervo dropped in front of the burly warrior, happy that the black serpents fled, hissing, from the light. тАЬThe starwitch, Louhi, dung-hopper! Come!тАЭ He fondled the palm-greased butt of a whip he carried slung over his shoulder significantly. There was no more conversation. Kullervo shambled after him down the long corridor, and others, up long flights of stairs, bemused but grateful to be out of the snake dungeon. He never thought to disobey anyone; it didnтАЩt take whips. They told him what to do and he did it. Still, there was a small spark of new rebellion within him, a spark that had leaped into being the instant he had looked down at his pukko and seen that Pot had broken it. As for now, to be warm would be enough. And food. Most of his tasks had been in and around hydroponics tanks and kitchens; the more disagreeable chores, of course. But there was always food, even when it was the next thing to garbage. Narrow steep stairways led them up, up, up. Kullervo was weak from black muttered angry thoughts to himself whenever he bothered to glance back to see if Kullervo was still dog-loping behind. The spiraling climb seemed endless. Kullervo held onto his spinning head. Finally, where an enormously high peaked entrance was clothed in soft folds of rich black velvet, the cowled swordsman pulled up. He clunked his boot three times on the stone for a signal. Kullervo heard a harsh hideous scream penetrate the velvet. The warrior grabbed hold of KullervoтАЩs arm, pushed him sprawling between the folds of curtain. KullervoтАЩs bowed legs tottered him ludicrously half across a floor like polished black onyx; his impromptu ballet carried him very near a dais covered with vivid green fur carpeting, a dais with a high intricately carven throne on it. When he saw the figure on the throne Kullervo bleated, knees buckling and flopping him face down on the black floor an inch from the viridian green fur. He lay there, panting for breath, not daring to look up. тАЬLook at me!тАЭ the figure on the throne shrieked. The demand was not to be disobeyed. Kullervo Kasi arched up, crawling his hands from under him, careful not to touch the carpet. His obedience was that of a hunting dog; as for the creature on the throne, nobody would |
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