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

I decided to get off the subject fast.
"Who are these friends of yours I am taking you to?"
"We are headed for the Keep of Ganelon."
"That ratfink!" I said, almost dropping him.
"While I do not understand the word you have used, I take it to be a term of opprobrium," he said, "from the tone of your voice. If such is the case, I must be his defender in -- "
"Hold on," I said. "I've a feeling we're talking about two different guys with the same name. Sorry."
Through the stretcher, I felt a certain tension go out of him.
"That is doubtless the case," he said.
So I carried him until we reached the trail, and there I turned to the left.
He dropped off to sleep again, and I made better time after that, taking the fork he had told me about and sprinting while he snored. I began wondering about the six fellows who had tried to do him in and almost succeeded. I hoped that they did not have any friends beating about the bushes.
I slowed my pace back to a walk when his breathing changed.
"I was asleep," he said.
"...And snoring," I added.
"How far have you borne me?"
"Around two leagues, I'd say."
"And you are not tired?"
"Some," I said, "but not enough to need rest just yet."
"Mon Dieu!" he said. "I am pleased never to have had you for an enemy. Are you certain you are not the Devil?"
"Yeah, sure," I said. "Don't you smell the brimstone? And my right hoof is killing me."
He actually sniffed a couple times before he chuckled, which hurt my feelings a bit.
Actually, we had traveled over four leagues, as I reckoned it. I was hoping he would sleep again and not be too concerned about distances. My arms were beginning to ache.
"Who were those six men you slew?" I asked him.
"Wardens of the Circle," he replied, "and they were no longer men, but men possessed. Now pray to God, Sir Corey, that their souls be at peace."
"Wardens of the Circle?" I asked. "What Circle?"
"The dark Circle -- the place of iniquity and loathsome beasts..." He took a deep breath. "The source of the illness that lies upon the land."
"This land doesn't look especially ill to me," I said.
"We are far from that place, and the realm of Ganelon is still too strong for the invaders. But the Circle widens. I feel that the last battle will be fought here."
"You have aroused my curiosity as to this thing."
"Sir Corey, if you know not of it 'twere better you forgot it, skirted the Circle, and went your way. Though I should dearly love to fight by your side, this is not your fight -- and who can tell the outcome?"
The trail began winding upward. Then, through a break in the trees, I saw a distant thing that made me pause and caused me to recall another, similar place.
"What...?" asked my charge, turning. Then, "Why, you moved much more quickly than I had guessed. That is our destination, the Keep of Ganelon."
I thought then about a Ganelon. I did not want to, but I did. He had been a traitorous assassin and I had exiled him from Avalon centuries before. I had actually cast him through Shadow into another time and place, as my brother Eric had later done to me. I hoped it was not to this place that I had sent him. While not very likely, it was possible. Though he was a mortal man with his allotted span, and I had exiled him from that place perhaps six hundred years ago, it was possible that it was only a few years past in terms of this world. Time, too, is a function of Shadow, and even Dworkin did not know all of its ins and outs. Or perhaps he did. Maybe that is what drove him mad. The most difficult thing about Time, I have learned, is doing it. In any case, I felt that this could not be my old enemy and former trusted aide, for he would certainly not be resisting any wave of iniquity that was sweeping across the land. He would be right in there pitching for the loathsome beasts, I felt sure.
A thing that caused me difficulty was the man that I carried. His counterpart had been alive in Avalon at the time of the exiling, meaning that the time lag could be just about right.
I did not care to encounter the Ganelon I had known and be recognized by him. He knew nothing of Shadow. He would only know that I had worked some dark magic on him, as an alternative to killing him, and while he had survived that alternative it might have been the rougher of the two.
But the man in my arms needed a place of rest and shelter, so I trudged forward.
I wondered, though...
There did seem to be something about me that lent itself to recognition by this man. If there were some memories of a shadow of myself in this place that was like yet not like Avalon, what form did they take? How would they condition a reception of the actual me should I be discovered?
The sun was beginning to sink. A cool breeze began, hinting of a chilly night to come. My ward was snoring once more, so I decided to sprint most of the remaining distance. I did not like the feeling that this forest after dark might become a place crawling with unclean denizens of some damned Circle that I knew nothing about, but who seemed to be on the make when it came to this particular piece of real estate.
So I ran through lengthening shadows, dismissing rising notions of pursuit, ambush, surveillance, until I could do so no longer. They had achieved the strength of a premonition, and then I heard the noises at my back: a soft pat-pat-pat, as of footfalls.
I set the stretcher down, and I drew my blade as I turned.
There were two of them, cats.
Their markings were precisely those of Siamese cats, only these were the size of tigers. Their eyes were of a solid, sun-bright yellow, pupilless. They seated themselves on their haunches as I turned, and they stared at me and did not blink.
They were about thirty paces away. I stood sideways between them and the stretcher, my blade raised.
Then the one to the left opened its mouth. I did not know whether to expect a purr or a roar.
Instead, it spoke. It said, "Man, most mortal."
The voice was not human-sounding. It was too highpitched.
"Yet still it lives," said the second, sounding much like the first.
"Slay it here," said the first.
"What of the one who guards it with the blade I like not at all?"
"Mortal man?"