"Zelazny, Roger - The 1st Chronicles of Amber - 02 - Guns Of Avalon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zelazny Roger)

The dozen or so of us who made it to the foot of the dark tower were faced by a final guard contingent.
"Go it!" cried Ganelon, as we leaped from our horses and waded into them.
"Go it!" cried Lance, and I guess they both meant me, or each other.
I took it to mean me, and I broke away from the fray and raced up the stairs.
He would be there, in the highest tower, I knew; and I would have to face him, and face him down. I did not know whether I could, but I had to try, because I was the only one who knew where he really came from -- and I was the one who put him there.
I came to a heavy wooden door at the top of the stairs. I tried it, but it was secured from the other side. So I kicked it as hard as I could.
It fell inward with a crash.
I saw him there by the window, a man-formed body dressed in light armor, goat head upon those massive shoulders.
I crossed the threshold and stopped.
He had turned to stare as the door had fallen, and now he sought my eyes through steel.
"Mortal man, you have come too far," he said. "Or are you mortal man?" and there was a blade in his hand.
"Ask Strygalldwir," I said.
"You are the one who slew him," he stated. "Did he name you?"
"Maybe."
There were footsteps on the stairs behind me. I stepped to the left of the doorway.
Ganelon burst into the chamber and I called "Halt!" and he did.
He turned to me.
"This is the thing," he said. "What is it?"
"My sin against a thing I loved," I said. "Stay away from it. It's mine."
"You're welcome to it."
He stood stock still.
"Did you really mean that?" asked the creature.
"Find out," I said, and leaped forward.
But it did not fence with me. Instead, it did what any mortal fencer would consider foolish.
It hurled its blade at me, point forward, like a thunderbolt. And the sound of its passage came like a clap of thunder. The elements outside the tower echoed it, a deafening response.
With Grayswandir, I parried that blade as though it were an ordinary thrust. It embedded itself in the floor and burst into flames. Without, the lightning responded.
For an instant, the light was as blinding as a magnesium flare, and in that moment the creature was upon me.
It pinned my arms to my sides, and its horns struck against my visor, once, twice...
Then I threw my strength against those arms, and their grip began to weaken.
I dropped Grayswandir, and with a final heave broke the hold it had upon me.
In that moment, however, our eyes met.
Then we both struck, and we both reeled back.
"Lord of Amber," it said then, "why do you strive with me? It was you who gave us this passage, this way..."
"I regret a rash act and seek to undo it."
"Too late -- and this a strange place to begin."
It struck again, so quickly that it got through my guard. I was slammed back against the wall. Its speed was deadly.
And then it raised its hand and made a sign, and I had a vision of the Courts of Chaos come upon me -- a vision that made my hackles rise, made a chill wind blow across my soul, to know what I had done.
"...You see?" it was saying. "You gave us this Gateway. Help us now, and we will restore to you that which is yours."
For a moment I was swayed. It was possible that it could do just what it had offered, if I would help.
But it would be a threat forever after. Allies briefly, we would be at each other's throats after we got what we wanted -- and those dark forces would be much stronger by then. Still, if I held the city...
"Do we have a bargain?" came the sharp, near-bleat of the question.
I thought upon the shadows, and of the places beyond Shadow...
Slowly, I reached up and unbuckled my helm...
Then I hurled it, just as the creature seemed to relax. I think Ganelon was moving forward by then.
I leaped across the chamber and drove it back against the wall.
"No!" I cried.
Its manlike hands found my throat at about the same instant mine wrapped about its own.
I squeezed, with all my strength, and twisted. I guess it did the same.
I heard something snap like a dry stick. I wondered whose neck had broken. Mine sure hurt.