"E. C. Tubb - Dumarest 14 - Jack of Swords" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tubb E. C)

cheap labor which cost nothing, the only expense being the
warren in which they lived and bred and died.

"Earl!" A man came running toward Dumarest as he entered
one of the buildings. "Earl, have you decided?"

Cran Elem was small, thin, his cheeks sunken, the bones
prominent. Beneath the rags he wore his wasted flesh and bone
gave him the fragility of a child.

Dumarest made no answer, climbing the stairs to the flat roof
there to stand and look at the sky. Dusk was thickening and
would soon yield to night, the darkness heralded by the glitter of
early stars.

Stars like the eyes he had seen too often in the shadows
surrounding a ring. The avid, hungry eyes of those eager for the
sight of blood and pain. Their coldness was the chill of naked
steel, their gleam that of razored edge and point. To fight, to kill
and maim, to win the price of a meal so as to live to fight again.
He had done it before and would again if all else failed, but there
could be a better way.
 To Cran he said, "Assemble and warn the men. We leave in an
hour."


***

The storm broke at midnight with a sudden flurry of lightning
followed by thunder and a driving rain. Crouched beneath the
fronds of stunted vegetation Dumarest felt its impact on his
head, the deluge filling his mouth and nostrils so that he had to
bend his face in order to breathe. On all sides the gritty soil
turned into an oozing, alluvial mud.

"Earl!" From the darkness Cran edged close, his voice
strained, echoing his despair. "Earl! It's a bust!"

"Wait!"

"It's useless. We tried but this is hopeless. We'd best get back
to town."

A flash illuminated him, thunder crashing as Dumarest
reached out and caught an arm. Beneath his fingers he could feel
the stringy muscle, the stick of bone. In his grip the man was
helpless.

"Wait," he said again. "This storm could help us."