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

Kane breathed a silent curse as his boot slipped from its
purchase on the limestone wall. For an instant he swung
precariously in the darkness, only the steel grip of his fingers
against the stone block saving him from a thirty-foot drop to the
frosted earth below. The fall might not kill him, but it was
crippling height for surety. Grimly he forced his scrambling boot
back into a masonry crack and rested his arms from the tearing
weight of his massive frame. His great strength now seemed
scarcely sufficient to stand upright, and his wounded side was
lancing agonyтАФbut at least the strain and the chill air had cleared
his thoughts somewhat.
From the open window above him, Kane heard the startled
shouts of Pleddis's soldiers. Baffled rage flamed within him. He
had needed more time to descend the wall of the inn. Weakened
as he was, he could never reach the ground before a frantic
search revealed him to his enemies. Again his boot slipped as he
sought to hurry his descent. The limestone blocks of the inn had
been set flush in the wall originallyтАФa precaution against athletic
thieves or guests who cared not to settle their account. Only
because mountain winds and winters had eroded the masonry
over the years was Kane able to find purchaseтАФsuch purchase as
there was.
Not even extreme exhaustion and the mists of opium had
completely dulled Kane's uncanny senses. The feral instincts that
countless times had drawn him from sleep to full awareness of
imminent danger had called to him once again. Kane had
awakened to the brief clamour of Pleddis's attack, and almost
instantly he had understood his position.
Even at peak condition Kane would have stood no chance
against a score of seasoned mercenaries. And he knew he was
trappedтАФknew without wasting a glance outside that a man of
Pleddis's capability would have surrounded Raven's Eyrie before
thrusting within. In another minute his enemies would be
smashing down his doorтАФunless he decided to make a suicidal
rush down the stairs, or let an archer pick him off as be
scrambled down the outside wall.
A desperate plan came to him then. Pleddis knew he was
gravely injured. He would let the bounty hunter find him dead.
Any number of risks suggested themselves to him instantly, but
plainly there was no other course. Pleddis would lower his guard
only if he believed his quarry dead.
It was not too difficult for one of Kane's knowledge. His
appearance was ghastly enough for a corpse, and the cold draft
through the window coupled with the chill sweat that had seized
him would impart a convincing clamminess to his flesh. Over the
centuries Katie had delved deeply into all mariner of occult
studies, and the discipline of imposing mental control over
physical functions was known to students far less adopt than
Kane. For much of their ride, Kane had held himself in a near
trance to conserve his strength, and now he withdrew his