"Karl Edward Wagner - Kane 01 - Darkness Weaves" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wagner Karl Edward)

Kane made a remark about cavalrymen's mothers. "It seems then they weren't the eager fools I had
hoped. They must have kept a man behind in case they ran into more than they could handle. Lato
devour their cautious souls! If only they had been overconfident!"

"Now what?" Imel wanted to know. "How far is it to your cove?"

"From Imel's description I'd guess we're maybe halfway," Arbas answered without enthusiasm. Kane
caught the assassin's eye and shrugged. "Well, the dice are cast now. The other soldier will have the
whole Combine on the alert by now. It's suicide to bypass the roadway and try to slip through the forest
now. Heavy patrols will be combing the' area in an hour--they'll cordon us and close in. Our best chance
now is to ride like the Pack of Volutio--and gamble we can beat them to the ship. So let's move out!"

Off they galloped, leaving the dead to watch silently the lightning-flecked heavens.




They had ridden perhaps an hour with no sign of pursuit. Twice more they had to break their course to
bypass army posts, and Kane cursed the delay this entailed. Imel watched landmarks carefully, and
concluded that they had only about another mile to travel before they could leave the main road and cut
through an expanse of forest to reach the cove.
 He was about to ride forward to tell Kane, who had moved slightly ahead, when the red-bearded man
signaled a halt. Essen was returning from point at a gallop, and Kane wondered what the scout had
learned.

A burst of lightning lit the landscape in a brief, sharp glare. In that split second of light, Kane caught sight
of the large, dark-red blotch that soaked Essen's tunic--and the wind carried to his sensitive nostrils the
odor of blood.

"No man wounded like that rides that well!" muttered Kane. His hand streaked for his dagger.

As his fingers closed on its hilt, the rider plunged into him. "Die--you treacherous hellspawn!" shrieked
the man in Essen's tunic. His dagger flashed toward Kane's chest.

Clamping his knees against his mount's flank, Kane kept his balance as their horses collided. With a
motion too quick to follow, he caught the descending arm with his left hand, halting the thrusting blade.
The assailant screamed as Kane's inhuman grip snapped the bones in his wrist like brittle twigs--but the
scream had hardly begun before it choked into a gurgle. Kane's other fist drove his own dagger deep into
the man's belly and ripped upward in a disembowelling stroke.

The corpse fell heavily to the road, and the cloak was pulled back from his face. "That isn't Essen,"
observed one of the men sagaciously.

The horse on which the unknown attacker had ridden whinnied in wild pain. It rolled to its knees, then
collapsed drunkenly upon the body of its rider. It kicked spasmodically for a moment and lay still. Its
eyes were glazed in the lightning glare.

"His dagger cut the horse in falling," said Arbas, who had been closest to Kane.

Kane nodded. "Yes, a poisoned dagger--very pretty. They must have done for Essen, then sent this son