"Brian Thomsen - The Nobles 04 - The Mage in the Iron Mask" - читать интересную книгу автора (Thomsen Brian M)

head from moving. He thought he could discern a wooden collar that was acting as his neck
yoke. The underside was torment-ing his shoulders and collarbone with splinters, while the
topside seemed cool and smooth as if it were lined with a metal plate. The bit had been
re-moved from his mouth, but the tightness of the yoke further inhibited his attempts at crying
out.
Gradually his eyes became accustomed to the light thrown by the torches that illuminated
the chamber. His captors were behind him, and cast long and threatening shadows on the
wall before him.
"Our esteemed guest is awake. Isn't the resem-blance uncanny?" one of the shadows
observed.
"Donal didn't lie. I guess even greedy liars and knaves occasionally tell the truth," the
other replied, "but I guess we shouldn't ask our friends from Thay for their opinions on this
subject."
"Are you awake?" the first inquired. "I should think that you would want to thank Sir Melker
Rickman for rescuing you from those wretched mercenar-ies from Thay."
 The source of the voice came around to Rassendyll's left, just out of sight. "I'm sorry that
you have been treated so roughly, but one can't be too careful. You see, there are certain
laws here in Mulmaster govern-ing the comings and goings of you mage types, so cer-tain
precautions have to be taken. I'm sure that by now your wrists must be raw from the
restraints that have kept you from using your hands since last night, and I must apologize. I
have, however, taken steps to alleviate the problem. Send in the smith."
The young wizard saw the back of the other pass in front of him as he left to fetch the
smith. He re-turned almost immediately, and this time Rassendyll was able to discern that
this one-eyed soldier with long black hair had been the same person who had led the party
that had stolen him from his original abductors. He was accompanied by a burly wizard who
bore two large metal plates with him, as well as a hammer and a pouch that jangled as he
moved. The soldier seemed to lead the burly wizard, and the reason became obvious when
he stopped in front of the yoke and frame that restrained Rassendyll.
The burly wizard was as blind as a bat, his eye sockets still bearing the singe marks from
where some flaming coals had been put to rest for some, what must have been
interminable, period of suffer-ing for Ao knows what reason.
"You know why you are here," the voice from be-hind commanded. "Begin!"
The burly wizard replied with a garbled noise of assent, for his tongue had been burnt out
as well during the same period of excruciating torture, and began to place the two metal
plates into slots in the yoke around the young wizard's neck, one directly behind his head,
and one in front.
Once they were perfectly balanced in place, the burly wizard began to run his hands over
the metal surfaces, mouthing incantations as he worked. Slowly the metal began to heat up,
and soften. With hands that had forged numerous talismans and weapons of enchantment,
the wizard smith began to mold the two plates to fit the contours of the young man's head.
At first, Rassendyll felt a slight sensation of warmth against his cheeks, which quickly
became a torturous burn followed by a stifling oppression as the metal closed over his
mouth and nose, preventing him from breathing. Before he could cry out or choke, his
nostrils and mouth were assailed by the muscular fin-gers of the burly wizard smith as he
poked holes through the metal, molding and smoothing the edges so that they just barely
intruded into his breathing apertures. He followed in the same suit with the eye slits whose
placement was slightly skewed by the young wizard who kept his own orbs of vision shut
tight in an effort to prevent himself from suffering the same fate that had befallen the smith.
When the two halves of metal were in place around the young wizard's head, the wizard
smith said aloud a new incantation, flexing his fingers in the air with various and sundry