"Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman - Rose of the Prophet 02 - The Paladin of the Night" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weis Margaret)

were a somber black, with black short coats and matching black, flowing pants
that were tucked into knee-high red leather boots. Each man wore upon his head
a conical red hat adorned with a black tassel. Long, curved-bladed swords
bounced against their left legs as they rode.
But it was that which came behind these goums in the solemn processional that
caught the attention of the crowd on the walls of Idrith. Numerous slaves bore
between them three litters, each covered by white fabric. Several goums rode
at the side of the litters. The heads of these soldiers were bowed, their
black uniforms were torn, they wore no hats.
Following the litters was another squadron of goums,, escorting three
baggage-laden camels decked out in splendid fineryтАФorange-and-red feathered
headdresses, long tassels of black fringe that bounced about their spindly
legs.
From the slow movement and sorrowful mien of those marching across the plains,
it was soon obvious to the people of Idrith that this was a funeral cortege
they were observing from the walls. Word spread and more people pushed their
way through the crowds to see. Nothing attracts attention like a funeral, if
only to reassure the onlooker that he himself is still alive.
About a mile from the city gates, the entire procession came to a halt. The
standard-bearers dipped their bannersтАФa sign that the party approached in
peace. The slaves settled die palanquin on the ground. The goums dismounted,
the camels sank to their knees, the rattan-covered titters were lowered with
great ceremony and respect to the ground.
Looking and feeling extremely important, aware of hundreds of envious eyes
upon him, the Captain of the Sultan's Guard led a squadron of his men out to
meet and inspect the strangers before permitting them to enter the city.
Barking a sharp command for his men to keep in line and maintain discipline,
the Captain cast a glance toward the Sultan's palace that stood on a hill
above Idirth. The Sultan could not be seen, but the Captain knew he was
watching. Bright patches of color crowding the balconies gave indication that
THE PALADIN OF THE NIGHT
the Sultan's wives and concubines were flocking to see the procession.
His spine might have been changed to iron, so stiff and straight was the back
of the Captain as he walked his horse slowly and with great dignity past the
standard-bearers, advancing upon the palanquin. A man had emerged from its
white curtains and was waiting with every mark of respect to meet the Captain.
Beside the man stood the leader of the goums, also on foot and also
respectful. A slave held his horse some distance behind him.
Dismounting himself, the Captain handed the reins of his horse to one of his
men and walked forward to meet the head of the strange procession.
The man of the palanquin was clothed almost completely in black. Black leather
boots, black flowing trousers, a long-sleeved, black flowing shirt, a black
turban adorning his head. A red sash and a red jewel in the center of the
turban did nothing to relieve the funereal aspect of the man's costume.
Bather, perhaps because of the peculiar shade of red that was the color of
fresh blood, they enhanced it.
The skin of the man's face and hands was white as alabaster, probably why he
took such precautions to keep himself out of the burning sun; Idrith being
located just to the north of the Pagrah desert. By contrast, his brows were
jet black, feathering out from a point above a slender, hawkish nose. The lips