"Prisoner of the Horned helmet" - читать интересную книгу автора (Silke James)

Two
COBRA

Beyond the cataracts, deep within the Great Forest Basin, the tiny Glyder Snake slithered under dense ground cover, came to a stop at a wild scarlet rose graced with flickering sunlight. The reptile was in a section of the forest called The Shades. Vast. Uninhabited. Primeval. Dense with fir, spruce and hemlock rising from the embrace of creepers and sword ferns, and carpeted with needles, leaves and moss. A land with a roof of leaves penetrated by a few scattered shafts of gold light. A world of shadows. The perfect place for a snake at work.

The reptile’s gold eyes hunted and came to rest on a black cavelike opening amid the exposed roots of a massive spruce. Its nostrils widened. Its black tongue tasted the air. It had found what it hunted.

It slipped out of the concealing ground cover, wound its way up onto a dead fir tree lying on the ground, and slithered into a pool of flickering sunlight. The slim olive green body, the length of a forearm, coiled, then lifted in an elegant arc and pointed its stabbing tongue at a shadowed cave at the base of an outcropping of overgrown rock. Within seconds, sunshine turned its body yellow and its tiny scales began to radiate golden light, like a glowing trail marker.

There was the sound of something large shifting its weight within the shadows of the cave, then silence.

A spread of man-high sword ferns swayed behind the reptile, then parted, held by two hooded faceless spearmen crowded in the shadows. An opulent female figure emerged robed in emerald velvet. Small pearl-white hands clutched the heavy garment about her, their red nails hot, sharp. She stepped into the pool of light beside the glowing Glyder Snake. For a brief moment her draped body shimmered, reflecting the colors of the sunlight and the scarlet rose, then it flickered brightly and turned to scales of glittering gold. She slowly pushed her hood back and gazed intently at the shadowed cave.

Her grey-and-gold, almond-shaped eyes were heavily rimmed with kohl, and glistened in the deep alcoves of her finely wrought skull. Thin arched eyebrows. Wide full cheekbones. Lips narrow but fleshy above her finely pointed chin. Her skin was flawless, translucent, cream tinted with rose madder. Her hair was hidden beneath a shoulder length skullcap of metallic scales crusted with tiny jewels and cut like a serpent’s hood. It glittered with wealthy abandon. This was the sorceress called Cobra, Queen of Serpents.

The shadow within the root cave shifted.

Cobra’s cheeks rose with the trace of a confident smile. She parted her robe to reveal a lush body ripe with curves. Wide hips. Narrow waist. Full breasts swelling above the restraining gold cloth of her garment like soft prisoners. She spoke in a tone that was playful, in the manner of fingers stroking a naked thigh.

She said, “I bear a message, Dark One.”

A voice from within the cave said, “I have no use for messages.” It echoed softly, as if the speaker were imprisoned in a hole at the center of the earth. Yet strong, holding back thunder.

“You will have use for this one,” she said, abruptly changing her tone. “It carries a warning. Great and terrible events are traveling towards the Forest Basin. Events more horrible than even you can imagine. The armies of the great Outland empire in the south are coming, Dark One, and they wear armor and bear weapons stronger than the earth has ever known before.”

A grunt escaped the shadowed cave.

A smile spread across her mouth then died at the corners. “Contempt will not blunt their weapons. These Outlander champions are stronger than any you have faced. No fire you stoke can soften their metal, no weapon you hold can penetrate it. You will not be able to stand against them, unless you arm yourself properly.”

She waited, got no response, and continued coaxingly. “I do not insult you, Dark One. I am certain that you will die grandly, in a manner that will be spoken of with praise around the campfires for many years. But if you are of a mind to remain Lord of the Shades a little longer, hear me out.”

Silence.

“Listen to me! Go to the bridge called Lemontrail Crossing. Today! There you will find armor and weapons of hard metal, tools which can be yours if you have the will to take them.”

She waited again for a response, got none, and her smile coiled restlessly in the cool beauty of her face. For a moment it was naked, then suddenly flashed hotly, all rouge and painted lips.

She said, “Understand, Cobra seeks no payment for her words. Not of you. What I will have of you is far more than a mere tuft of your fur or a cup of your urine could provide.”

She turned, moved back through the parted ferns with the Glyder Snake following at a respectful distance, then the ferns closed, and they were gone.