Книга только для ознакомления
. The captain brought Jermina forward. She
told her story.
The priest's composure remained untouched, and he
spared no more than a glance at the muddy, bedraggled
woman. "It is a lie, Captain," he said flatly. "Such things do
not happen. The Kingpriest does not permit them to
happen."
Jermina blinked at him. "Why would I lie? I tell you,
the town of Gardenath lies under the water around you!"
Imkhian's impassive gaze remained on the captain.
"Resume your course, Master Dunvane. I am on an
important mission, given me by the Kingpriest himself. The
serpentine bowl must arrive in Istar for the ceremony. Don't
waste any more precious time worrying about this
ridiculous tale."
"We'll set to work on the sail at once, Revered Son,"
said Dunvane, relieved, as Imkhian slammed shut the cabin
door.
"Captain!" shouted Norry.
The SUNCHASER shuddered and heeled slowly to port.
Dunvane and his men ran to the rail. The strange current
that had been carrying them along was changing direction,
and the ship's rudder, tied straight ahead, was fighting the
pull.
"Look!" Norry pointed.
"By all the holy gods," breathed Dunvane.
Off the port side was a scene from a nightmare. A vast
shoal of floating debris covered the water. Clinging to the
mass of logs, shake roofs, and uprooted trees were
bedraggled, muddy, sunburned people. All stared hopefully
at the oncoming SUNCHASER.
The first cries from parched throats reached their ears.
"Help . . . help us ... water, water .
|
