"Karl Edward Wagner - Undertow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wagner Karl Edward)

Glancing at her in concern, Kane carefully extended the
chalice toward her. "Drink this. QuicklyтАФbefore the nimbus
dies."
She looked at him through eyes dark with horror. "Another
bitter draught of some foul drug to bind me to you?"
"Whatever you wish to call it."
"I won't drink it."
"Yes, Dessylyn, you will drink it."
His killer's eyes held her with bonds of eternal ice.
Mechanically she accepted the crimson chalice, let its
phosphorescent liqueur pass between her lips, seep down her
throat.
Kane sighed and took the empty goblet from her listless grip.
His massive frame seemed to shudder from fatigue, and he passed
a broad hand across his eyes. Blood rimmed their dark hollows.
"I'll leave you, Kane."
The sea wind gusted through the tower window and swirled the
long red hair about his haunted face.
"Never, Dessylyn."




III
At the Inn of the Blue Window

He called himself Dragar...
Had the girl not walked past him seconds before, he probably
would not have interfered when he heard her scream. Or perhaps
he would have. A stranger to Carsultyal, nonetheless the
barbarian youth had passed time enough in mankind's lesser cities
to be wary of cries for help in the night and to think twice before
plunging into dark alleys to join in an unseen struggle. But there
was a certain pride in the chivalric ideals of his heritage, along
with a confidence in the hard muscle of his sword arm and in the
strange blade he carried.
Thinking of the lithe, white limbs he had glimpsedтАФthe
patrician beauty of the face that coolly returned his curious stare
as she came toward himтАФDragar unsheathed the heavy blade at
his hip and dashed back along the street be had just entered.
There was moonlight enough to see, although the alley was
well removed from the nearest flaring streetlamp. Cloak torn
away, her gown ripped from her shoulders, the girl writhed in the
grasp of two thugs. A third tough warned by the rush of the
barbarian's boots, angrily spun to face him, sword streaking for
the youth's belly.
Dragar laughed and flung the lighter blade aside with a
powerful blow of his sword. Scarcely seeming to pause in his
attack, he gashed his assailant's arm with an upward swing, and
as the other's blade faltered, he split the thug's skull. One of the