"Karl Edward Wagner - Sing a Last Song of Valdese" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wagner Karl Edward)

valleys beyond were swallowed in twilight.
Night was fast overtaking him, the rider saw. He recalled the warnings of
villagers miles behind, who for his blessing had given him food and sour wine.
They had answered his questions concerning the road ahead, then warned him to
keep to the trail if night caught him and on no account make camp by himself.
The priest had not been certain whether they warned him of robbers or some
darker threat.
His horse stamped impatiently.
"I could make it worth your while to ride out of your way."
About to ride off, he glanced back down at her. Her smile was impish. Hidden
by the cowl, his face could not be read.
She touched the ties of her embroidered bodice. "I would see that you had a
most pleasant stay at Vald's Cove Inn, reverence." There was witchery in her
voice. The bodice loosened, parted across her breasts.
"Though I can't see your face, I can see there's a man beneath that priest's
cassock. Would you like to enjoy a mountain flower tonight? You'll remember
her sweetness when you grow old in some musty temple."
Her breasts were firm and well shaped. Against their whiteness the tan flesh
of her nipples matched the color of the swirling oak leaves.
Whatever his interest in her, the priest carried gold beneath his robe. The
girl's eagerness to draw him onto a little-frequented trail aroused deep
suspicion.
"The lure of wanton flesh is nothing to a priest of Thoem," he intoned,
"Then bugger yourself!" she spat, and lunged with a shrill scream for his
horse's face. Sharp claws raked blood across his nose.
Already nervous, the horse screamed and reared. Caught by surprise, the priest
lost his stirrups. Cassock flapping about his limbs, he scrambled for balance,
then was thrown from the terrified mount. He fell heavily, somehow landing
half on his feet, and cursed as his ankle turned under him.
The rearing horse bolted down the trail, took the right fork toward Rader, and
disappeared. With mocking laughter, the girl ran after.
Limping badly, the priest stumbled after her, cursing with blasphemous
invective. But the darkness quickly swallowed the flash of her white legs,
though her laughter taunted him invisibly still.




II
The Inn by the Side of the Road


The lights of the inn were smoky yellow through the thick, leaded panes. The
night winds caught the smoke and smell of horses, drove it down the road to
Rader, so that the priest came upon the inn all at once.
He noted the many horses tethered in the outlying stables. There were a number
of travellers at the inn tonight, and it seemed less likely that the girl
meant to lead him into a trap. Or had her confederates lain in wait along the
trail, probably they were content to steal his horse and gear. The priest
swore angrily, decided he had been too suspicious.