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

scarlet cord. Her skirt of brown wool fell in wide pleats to low on
her calves, and her small feet were shad in buskins of soft leather.
Klesst wore gold circlets pierced through each earlobeтАФjust like
MotherтАФbut Greshha had helped her sew bits of embroidery on
her garments, while Mother's were unadorned.
Her mother crossed the tiny room with her quick stride. She
caught up the crockery pitcher from the stand beside Klesst's bed,
then frowned as it sloshed. "There's water here, Klesst. Why can't
you get your own drink?"
Klesst hoped she had not triggered her mother's cold anger.
Not when loneliness shadowed her room, and the night was
closing over the inn. "The pitcher is so heavy, and my arms feel
so weak and shaky. Please, Mother. Give me some water."
Silently her mother poured water into Klesst's cup and placed
the blue glazed mug in her hands. Greshha would have held it to
her lips, supported her head with her strong arm...
Klesst drank thirstily, gripping the cup with both her
handsтАФsurprisingly long-fingered for a child's hands. Her great
blue eyes watched her mother over the brim, searching her face
for anger, impatience. Mother's face was impassive.
The child's febrile lips sucked noisily at the last swallow of
water, and her mother took the empty cup from her fingers. She
returned it to its place beside the pitcher, then turned to go.
"Please, Mother!" Klesst spoke quickly. "My headтАФit burns
so. Could you place something cool on my head?"
Her mother laid her thin hand over the girl's brow. Yes, that
was so cold...
"I had the bad dreams again, Mother," whispered Klesst,
hoping her mother would not leave.
"You have a fever still. Fever brings bad dreams."
 "It was that same nightmare."
Mother's eyes were wary. "What nightmare, Klesst?"
Would she get angry? Might she stay beside her if she knew
her fear? Klesst dreaded the thought of being alone in the
darkness.
"It was the dog again, Mother. The great black hound."
Her mother drew back and folded her long arms under her high
breasts. "A great black hound?" she said. "Do you mean a wolf?"
"A giant hound, Mother. Bigger than the bear hounds, bigger
than a wolf. I think he's even bigger than a bear. And he's black,
all black, even his chops and his tongue. Just his fangs are white.
And his eyesтАФthey burn like fire. He wants me, Mother. In my
dream I see him hunting along the ridges in the mist, sniffing the
night winds for my scent, And I can't run, but he keeps hunting
closerтАФuntil he's snuffling up to the inn. Then he sees me, and
his eyes glow red and freeze me so I can't scream, and his jaws
yawn open and I see smoke cutting from his fangs..."
"Hush! It's only a bad dream!" Her mother's voice was
strained.
Klesst shuddered as the memory of her fear crept back again,