"Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman - Legends 03 - Test Of The Twins" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weis Margaret)

Tas couldn't answer, he could only shake his head and point.
Caramon came around to the front and stood, silently reading the roughly carved letters and
unfinished inscription.
Hero of the Lance Tika Waylan Majere Death Year 358 Your life's tree felled too soon.
I fear, lest in my hands the axe be found.
"I-I'm sorry, Caramon," Tas murmured, slipping his hand into the big man's limp, nerveless fingers.
Caramon's head bowed. Putting his hand on the obelisk, he stroked its cold, wet surface as the wind
whipped around them. A few raindrops splattered against the stone. "She died alone," he said.
Doubling his fist, he bashed it into the rock, cutting his flesh on the sharp edges. "I left her alone! I
should have been here! Damn it, I should have been here!"
His shoulders began to heave with sobs. Tas, looking over at the storm clouds and realizing that
they were moving again, and coming closer, held Caramon s hand tightly.
"I don't think there would have been anything you could have done, Caramon, if you had been here-
" the kender began earnestly.
Suddenly, he bit his words off, nearly biting his tongue in the process. Withdrawing his hand from
Caramon's-the big man never even noticed-the kender knelt down in the mud. His quick eyes had
caught sight of something shining in the sickly rays of the pale sun. Reaching down with a
trembling hand, Tas hurriedly scooped away the muck.
"Name of the gods," he said in awe, leaning back on his heels. "Caramon, you were here!"
"What?" he growled. Tas pointed.
Lifting his head, Caramon turned and looked down. There, at his feet, lay his own corpse.
Chapter 3 t least it appeared to be Caramon's corpse. It was wearing the armor he had acquired in
Solamnia-armor he had worn during the Dwarfgate War, armor he had been wearing when he and
Tas left Zhaman, armor he was wearing now. . . .
But, beyond that, there was nothing specific that identified the body. Unlike the bodies Tas had
discovered that had been preserved beneath layers of mud, this corpse lay relatively close to the
surface and had decomposed. All that was left was the skeleton of what had obviously been a large
man lying at the foot of the obelisk. One hand, holding a chisel, rested directly beneath the stone
monument as if his final act had been to carve out that last dreadful phrase.
There was no sign of what had killed him.
"What's going on, Caramon?" Tas asked in a quivering voice. "If that's you and you're dead, how
can you be here at the same time?" A sudden thought occurred to him. "Oh, no! What if you're not
here!" He clutched at his topknot, twisting it round and round. "If you're not here, then I've made
you up. My!" Tas gulped. "I never knew I had such a vivid imagination. You certainly look real."
Reaching out a trembling hand, he touched Caramon. "You feel real and, if you don't mind my
saying so, you even smell real!" Tas wrung his hands. "Caramon! I'm going crazy," he cried wildly.
"Like one of those dark dwarves in Thorbardin!"
"No, Tas," Caramon muttered. "This is real. All too real." He stared at the corpse, then at the
obelisk that was now barely visible in the rapidly fading light. "And it's starting to make sense. If
only I could-" He paused, staring intently at the obelisk. "That's it! Tas, look at the date on the
monument!"
With a sigh, Tas lifted his head. "358," he read in a dull voice. Then his eyes opened wide. "358?"
he repeated. "Caramon-it was 356 when we left Solace!"
"We've come too far, Tas," Caramon murmured in awe. "We've come into our own future."
The boiling black clouds they had been watching mass along the horizon like an army gathering its
full strength for the attack surged in just before nightfall, mercifully obliterating the final few
moments of the shrunken sun's existence.
The storm struck swiftly and with unbelievable fury. A blast of hot wind blew Tas off his feet and
slammed Caramon back against the obelisk. Then the rain hit, pelting them with drops like molten
lead. Hail beat on their heads, battering and bruising flesh.