The Mad God's Amulet
- Автор: Муркок Майкл
- Серия: The History of the Runestaff #2
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Фэнтези
Электронная книга - «The Mad God's Amulet». Краткое содержание книги:
The great waves were almost impossible to swim against, and there was every chance of his being dashed against the side of the ship, stunned, and drowned.
But he struggled on through the water, fighting to keep it out of his mouth and eyes as he searched about for the raft.
There it was! And now its occupants had seen the ship and were standing up, waving and shouting. They had not seen Hawkmoon swimming toward them.
As he swam, Hawkmoon caught glimpses of the men from time to time, but he could not distinguish them clearly. Two now seemed to be struggling, while the third seemed to be sitting upright watching them.
"Hold on!" Hawkmoon called above the crash of the sea and the moan of the wind. Exerting all his strength, he swam even harder and was soon nearly upon the raft as it was tossed on a wild chaos of blackand white water.
Then Hawkmoon caught the edge of the raft and saw that indeed two of the men were fighting in earnest. He saw, too, that they wore the snouted masks of the Order of the Boar. The men were warriors of Granbretan.
For an instant Hawkmoon debated leaving them to their fate. But if he did that, he reasoned, he would be no better than they. He must do his best to save them, then decide what to do with them.
He called up to the fighting pair, but they did not seem to hear him. They grunted and cursed in their struggle, and Hawkmoon wondered if they had not been demented by their ordeal.
Hawkmoon tried to heave himself onto the raft, but the water and the rope around his body dragged him down. He saw the seated figure look up and sign to him almost casually.
"Help me," Hawkmoon gasped, "or I'll not be able to help you."
The figure rose and swayed across the raft until his way was blocked by the fighting men. With a shrug he seized their necks, paused for an instant until the raft dipped in the water, then pushed them into the sea.
"Hawkmoon, my dear friend!" came a voice from within the boar mask. "How happy I am to see you.
There-I've helped you. I've lightened our load…"
Hawkmoon made a grab at one of the drowning men who still struggled with his companion. In the heavy masks and armor, they were bound to be dragged down in seconds. But he could not reach them. He watched in fascination as, with seeming gradualness, the masks sank below the waves.
He glared up at the survivor, who was leaning down to offer him a hand. "You have murdered your friends, D'Averc! I've a good mind to let you go down with them."
"Friends? My dear Hawkmoon, they were no such thing. Servants, aye, but not friends." D'Averc braced himself as another wave tossed the raft, nearly forcing Hawkmoon to lose his grasp. "Not friends. They were loyal enough-but dreadfully boring. And they made fools of themselves. I cannot tolerate that. Come along let me help you aboard my little vessel. It is not much, but…"
Hawkmoon allowed D'Averc to help him onto the raft, then turned and waved toward the ship, just visible through the darkness. He felt the rope tighten as Oladahn began to haul on it.
"It was fortunate that you were passing," D'Averc said coolly as slowly they were drawn toward the ship. "I had thought myself as good as drowned and all my glorious promise barely fulfilled-and then who should come by in his splendid ship but the noble Duke of Koln. Fate flings us together once again, Duke."
"Aye, but I'll readily fling you away again as you flung your friends, if you do not hold tongue and help me with this rope," growled Hawkmoon.
The raft plunged through the sea and at last bumped against Smiling Girl's half-rotten side. A rope ladder sanked down, and Hawkmoon began to climb, finally hauling himself with relief over the rail, gasping for breath.
When Oladahn saw the next man's head emerge over the side, he cursed and made to draw his sword, but Hawkmoon stopped him. "He's our prisoner, and we might as well keep him alive, for he could be a useful bargaining counter if we are in trouble later."
"How sensible!" D'Averc exclaimed admiringly, then began coughing. "Forgive me-my ordeal has desperately weakened me, I fear. A change of clothes, some hot grog, a good night's rest, and I'll be myself again."
"You'll be lucky if we let you rot in the bilges,"
Hawkmoon said. "Take him below to our cabin, Oladahn."
Huddled in the tiny cabin that was dimly lit by a small lantern hanging from the roof, Hawkmoon and Oladahn watched D'Averc strip himself of his mask, armor and sodden undergarments.
"How did you come to be on the raft, D'Averc?"
Hawkmoon asked as the Frenchman fussily dried himself. Even he was slightly nonplussed by the man's apparent coolness. He admired the quality and even wondered if he did not actually like D'Averc in some strange way. Perhaps it was D'Averc's honesty in admitting his ambition, his unwillingness to justify his actions, even if, as recently, they involved casual murder.
"A long story, my dear friend. The three of usEcardo, Peter, and I-left the men to deal with that blind monster you released upon us and managed to reach the safety of the hills. A little later the ornithopter we had sent to collect you arrived and began to circle, evidently puzzled by the disappearance of an entire city-as we were, I must admit; you must explain that to me later. Well, we signaled to the pilot, and he came down. We had already realized the somewhat difficult position we found ourselves in…" D'Averc paused. "Is there any food to be had?"
"The skipper has ordered some supper from the galley," Oladahn said. "Continue."
"We were three men without horses in a rather barren part of the world. As well, we had failed to keep you when we had captured you, and as far as we knew, the pilot was the only living man left who knew that we had done that…"
"You killed the pilot?" Hawkmoon said.
"Just so. It was necessary. Then we boarded his machine with the intention of reaching the nearest base."
"What happened?" Hawkmoon asked. "Did you know how to control the ornithopter?"
D'Averc smiled. "You have guessed correctly. My knowledge of the things is limited. We managed to gain the air, but then the wretched thing would not be steered. Before we knew it, it was carrying us off to the Runestaff knows where. I feared for my safety, I must admit. The monster behaved increasingly erratically, until at last it began to fall. I managed to guide it so that it landed on a soft riverbank, and we were barely hurt. Ecardo and Peter had become hysterical, quarreling among themselves, becoming unbearable in their manners and most hard to control.
However, we somehow managed to build a raft with the intention of floating down the river until we came to a town…"
"That same raft?" Hawkmoon asked.
"The same, aye."
"Then how did you come to be at sea?"
"Tides, my good friend." D'Averc said with an airy wave of his hand. "Currents. I had not realized we were so close to an estuary. We were swept along at a most appalling rate, carried far beyond land. On that raft-that damnable raft-we spent the next several days, with Peter and Ecardo whining at one another, blaming one another for their predicament when they should have blamed me. Oh, I cannot tell you what an ordeal it was, Duke Dorian."
"You deserved worse," Hawkmoon said.
There came a knock on the cabin door. Oladahn answered it and admitted a scruffy cabin boy carrying a tray on which were three bowls containing some kind of gray stew.
Hawkmoon accepted the tray and handed D'Averc a bowl and a spoon. For a moment D'Averc hesitated; then he took a mouthful. He seemed to eat with great control. He finished the dish and replaced the empty bowl on the tray. "Delicious," he said. "Quite perfect, for ship's cooking."
Hawkmoon, who had been nauseated by the mess, handed D'Averc his own bowl, and Oladahn, too preferred his.
"I thank you," said D'Averc. "I believe in moderation. Enough is as good as a feast."