"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
hunger and cold; his belly gurgled plaintive hints; the warrior in red and
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