"Mickey Zucker Reichert - Bifrost 01 - Godslayer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reichert Mickey Zucker)

She spat in his face."Beast! I would rather die than marry you."



Halfrija's words pained like blows. Bramin's grip tightened on her flesh till she winced. His voice was
rambling and plaintive as a lost child. "Why? Oh, why, Halfrija? I've the power to grant your every
desire. A thousand kings have offered great treasures for me to come serve them. Yet I refused them all
for you. I love you, Halfrija."



Halfrija's hands whitened as her face flushed with ugly rage. "I'll not be disdained by my own people
because a dark creature loves me." She added cruelly, "If, indeed, your kind can know love."



Bramin caught his breath with a sob. "Now I know love and pain." Desperately, he spouted Silme's trite
comforts as if they were truths. "The people of Forste-Mar don't hate me. They mistreated me as a child
from ignorance. But many years have passed since ..."



"You stupid animal!"Halfrija's voice rose in pitch and volume. "We hate you now more than ever. We
would kick and spit, even slay you if we didn't fear your power. You're no man, you're a beast. Worse
than a beast, for a rat is content with its lot and youhave the audacity to pretend you're human!"



Slapped by Halfrija's cruelty, Bramin made a pained noise. His grip went lax. "Halfrija ..."



Her sword struck.Though too near her target for an effective strike, her blade nicked Bramin's side. The
razor edge opened his tunic. Blood beaded his skin. Bramin watched in fascination as a single drop slid
down his breeks and splashed a tiny, scarlet circle in the sand.



He looked up as Halfrija raised her sword like a club and lashed at his face. Tears stung his eyes. He
stood, hopeless and uncaring, as the blade cut above his head. Just before the blow fell, self-righteous
fury warmed his blood. The will to live and claim vengeance on all who had ever wronged him replaced
the anguish roused by Halfrija's scorn. He sprang aside. Her sword whisked through air where he had
stood and hammered the packed sand with a crash.



Off-balance, Halfrija staggered. Bramin caught her by the throat. He drew her so close their faces nearly
touched. Her cheeks and eyes paled with fear, which gave Bramin a morbid satisfaction. The legacy of
his dark ancestors rose hot in his veins."Too good for me, lady?" His voice transformed to an ancient
croak of evil. "You're not too good for death." His hands knotted convulsively, cartilage crumbled