Barron, Laird The Croning

[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Even so, this sight quickened in his breast a chill dread and reminded him that he was a man without friends, far from home.“Welcome to the House of Old Leech,” a woman said.She stood in an alcove, watching him.Clad in a diaphanous gown, a crimson diadem at her throat, she was dark of hair and eye and lushly proportioned.Older than the Spy by a rather wide margin, her flesh was taut and she radiated carnality as voracious as fire.A priestess, he assumed.Instantly smitten, only a sliver of his fevered brain was capable of rational thought.“Hullo, priestess,” the Spy said.He affected an archness of tone.Beautiful seminude women jump out of the shadows at me every day, cheerio! He tried not to stare at her breasts, focusing instead on her eyes, and that seemed equally dangerous for she appraised him with a measure of intellect and cruelty that even his sister the Queen could not match.It was the kind of gaze to flay a man’s soul, and it reminded him that not so long ago he’d mucked horseshit in a stable, far from the good silver and polite company.He cleared his throat and said gamely, “This is an unusual church, if I may say so.I confess surprise that such blasphemies are openly conducted.And the coin required to maintain the roof.Ye gods…”“And you missed the orgy, too.” The woman approached with a slowly widening smile.Thankfully, she possessed legs, and nice ones.Up close she smelled of perfume and pitch.Her eyes were painted in a soft glitter and her lips were the deep red of the diadem.“These lands are administered by Count Mock who is fond of the old ways.He’s filthy rich and the crown seldom pays heed to the doings along the frontier.Left to their own devices are Count M and his people.You may find the Valley exists under a different set of traditions and customs than you are familiar with.”“Yes, if by different you mean uncivilized.The Count must’ve paid off the diocese as well.Yours is the only place of worship I’ve witnessed in the entire valley.That is passing strange, my lady.Surely there are Christians dwelling among you pagans.”“Christians are welcome.All are welcome.All flesh is food of the god.”“Who is Old Leech? The name isn’t one I recognize.”“You’re surprised? There are in excess of twenty thousand gods acknowledged to exist.Unless you are a scholar or a master theologian, you’d be hard-pressed to name a hundredth of them.You don’t carry yourself like a philosopher.A mercenary, perhaps.” Her accent was more foreign than that of the villagers.While the peasants spoke with a rustic twang, hers hinted of a cosmopolitan education in a distant land.There was a nearly imperceptible lag between her words and the movement of her lips; the sound of her voice echoed in his head an instant before it issued from her mouth.He wondered exactly what was in that incense…“I’m an ignorant clodhopper, which means I should feel right at home here.Are you a caste of healers? A gaggle of old leeches?”She laughed into her cupped hand and watched him sidelong.“Curiosity killed the cat.” She boldly hooked the chain of his crucifix with her nail and its silver chasing reflected in her eyes.“Good Christians should not seek knowledge outside the Holy Book.”“Really, there’s very little good in me,” he said, trembling at the heat of her skin close to his own, the swirl of exotic perfume that clouded his mind.“I bet.” The priestess glanced down and seemed to notice the dog for the first time.“Oh, cute dog,” she said and patted him on the lumpy head.The Spy opened his mouth too late to warn her—the dog was a savage and had chomped off the fingers of more than one person who’d come too near, but now the brute whimpered, cowed, and shivered in ecstasy or terror at the woman’s touch.The Spy understood the emotion.He said, “Priestess, are we alone? On my way in I could’ve sworn there were children moving in the shadows.”“Kids are in short supply around here,” she said [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Pokrewne