"Karl Edward Wagner - Ravens Eyrie" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wagner Karl Edward)

Demonlord hunts beneath this moon, and you'll see no more of
them his hound pulls down."
Pleddis made an annoyed grimace. "Well, he would have
found a fat enough morsel in you, old woman."
"Greshha!" There was a strange hint of anger in Ionor's voice.
The older woman crept almost guiltily from behind the mass of
soldiers whose entrance she had followed. The servant's plump
checks were still ashen with fear, and she blinked and trembled
as if dazed.
"So she does belong here," said Pleddis. "We found the old
woman hanging back along the road. Seemed so glad to see us
she came running into our arms. Couldn't talk two words of
senseтАФsomething bad her bad scared. Now I see it was her own
bogey tales."
"She's a servant here," explained Ionor in a tight voice. "She
had been given the night off, and I had supposed she would spend
it with friends in the village near here." She jerked her hand
toward the kitchen, and Greshha dumbly followed her gesture.
Meanwhile Eriall, one of Pleddis's lieutenants whose face
Weed knew, had carried in a grisly burden. "Here they are," he
announced holding out both fists. Clenched by their
scarlet-spattered hair, three heads dangled from his grip. Their
jaws hung loosely, tongues lolling, eyes rolled upward in a fish
stare behind half-closed lids.
"Recognize your friends?" laughed Pleddis. "Eriall, you're
dribbling blood all over your hostess's floor. Where's your
manners?"
The other grinned and showed the heads to Weed. "Maybe this
piece of shit ought to lick the boards clean."
"Too bad the one's skull is busted near in half," mused Pleddis,
mourning a damaged trophy. "Well, pack them good in salt with
the others. They bring us five ounces of gold each in Nostoblet,
and I doubt the Merchants' League will care if their purchases are
a bit damaged in transit. Mind you cut off that earring there."
"Why don't I just take along his while I'm doing the rest?"
suggested Eriall.
Pleddis stroked his jaw thoughtfully. "How about that, Weed?
Want to ride back to Nostoblet all packed in salt? They set
twenty ounces of gold on your head, but maybe they'll pay a little
extra if we hand you over intact. You'd rate a public execution all
to yourself. Be real nice. Which way do you want it now?"
"Let me kill him," snarled Ionor.
Pleddis considered her gravely. "Bloodthirsty is the lust of a
woman," he misquoted. "But I'd like to carry one back alive to
Nostoblet, so he can tell everyone there how Captain Pleddis ran
them down and made raven food out of the whole damned
wolfpack."
Ionor's face was twisted, her breath fast. Weed thought of a
hot-clefted slut who had been cheated of her climax. "Hang him
from the railing then for meтАФI want to watch him die. It's my