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

But Stundorn remembered that his quarrel was supposed to
have given Kane his death wound. "All the same, captain, it's the
Demonlord's Moon. They say his powers hold sway over the
mountains tonight. Maybe he could make the dead rise. And
there's all kinds of black legends about Kane. We may be trailing
a dead man, captain."
Pleddis stood a moment, face impassive. Then his laugh barked
rustily. "Maybe so, Stundorn. But you just remember that corpse
is worth five hundred ounces of yellow gold, and if he comes
looking for you, just yell for me."
"Father!" exploded Kane, in a louder tone than he intended.
He crossed the room to the girl's bed.
"Yes," Klesst whispered. "I saw you come in, and they said
you were Kane. The children in the village call me Kane's
bastard. They say you carried Mother away after you raided the
inn, and after she escaped and came back she had me, and you
were my father."
Kane stared at her.
"See. I have red hair like yours, and my eyes are blue like
yours." Klesst did not flinch from Kane's stare. "I can even see in
the dark better than the other children, like the stories tell about
you."
"Your grandmother," Kane muttered, touching the child's
face.
"So I won't tell those soldiers where you are," Klesst
concluded.
"You should hate me." Her skin was feverish. As was his.
"No," declared Klesst. "The others hate me. But when they
hear stories about you, then they look frightened. I like to see
them frightened. I like to think they're even a little frightened of
me."
Kane shook his head. The excited shouts of his pursuers
brought him back to the moment. Turning from her, he risked a
glance through the window. Outside they were circling the inn
with torches and lanterns. He knew they would find no trail. Then
they would begin to search the inn. Digging grime from his boots,
he smudged over the bright scratches made by his knife on the
latch. There was no smear of blood on the casement that he could
see.
Grimly he took stock of his chances. They were not good. All
that his ruse had accomplished was to give him another few
minutes. The end was inevitable, unless he could slip through
their net. And even then...
Kane forced his mind to think clearly. For the moment, the
threat of certain death had spurred him from exhaustion. Some
final reserve of strength kept him moving when he should lie
senseless, pushed back the black waves of fever and opium. The
barricades must soon break.
"I knew you from my dream," his daughter told him. "But then
I didn't know your name."