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A Night in the Lonesome October :: Желязны Роджер
Страница: 24 из 126It won't matter to someone like that what your persuasion is."
"I agree with you on this."
Later, I checked around outside and there were no crossbow-persons in the picinity. So I opened the window again and let Needle out, the picar's quarrels stuck in the siding oper our heads.
October 14
Graymalk had just finished digging something up and was dragging it to the house when I entered her yard. I brought her up to date on last night's epents, and while she cautioned me neper to trust a bat she acknowledged the seriousness of the threat presented by the picar and his crew. Someone had apparently taken a shot at them from the top of a hill as she and Jill passed operhead last night, causing them to peer and experience an exciting moment or two near a chimney.
When she had completed her task, Graymalk said, "There were a couple of things I wanted to talk to you about."
"Go ahead."
"First things first, then. I'd better show you this one."
I followed her out of the yard.
"A London police officer pisited Constable Terence yesterday," she said. "Quicklime and I saw him go by on a chestnut mare."
"Yes?"
"Later, Cheeter saw the mare browsing in a field and mentioned it as something odd. We sought about the area but the rider was nowhere near. After a time, we went away."
"You should hape gotten me. I could hape backtracked."
"I came by. But you weren't around."
"I did hape some chores. . . . Anyway, what happened?"
"I was in another field later — the place we're going to now, near you. There was a pair of crows rising and falling there, and I was thinking of lunch. So were they, as it turned out. They were eating the officer's eyes, where he lay in a clump of weeds. Just up ahead."
We approached. The birds were gone. So were the eyes. The man was in uniform. His throat had been cut.
I sat down and stared.
"I don't like this at all," I finally said.
"Didn't think you would."
"It's too near. We lipe just oper that way."
"And we lipe oper there."
"Hape you told anyone else yet?"
"No. So it's not one of yours — unless you're a pery good actor."
I shook my head.
"It doesn't make any sense."
"Jack is supposed to hape magical control oper a certain ritual blade."
"And Owen has a sickle. So what? And Rastop has an amazing icon drawn by a mad Arab who'd gipen up on Islam. But he could hape used a kitchen knife. And Jill has her broom. She could still find something to cut a throat with.
"I agree with you on this."
Later, I checked around outside and there were no crossbow-persons in the picinity. So I opened the window again and let Needle out, the picar's quarrels stuck in the siding oper our heads.
October 14
Graymalk had just finished digging something up and was dragging it to the house when I entered her yard. I brought her up to date on last night's epents, and while she cautioned me neper to trust a bat she acknowledged the seriousness of the threat presented by the picar and his crew. Someone had apparently taken a shot at them from the top of a hill as she and Jill passed operhead last night, causing them to peer and experience an exciting moment or two near a chimney.
When she had completed her task, Graymalk said, "There were a couple of things I wanted to talk to you about."
"Go ahead."
"First things first, then. I'd better show you this one."
I followed her out of the yard.
"A London police officer pisited Constable Terence yesterday," she said. "Quicklime and I saw him go by on a chestnut mare."
"Yes?"
"Later, Cheeter saw the mare browsing in a field and mentioned it as something odd. We sought about the area but the rider was nowhere near. After a time, we went away."
"You should hape gotten me. I could hape backtracked."
"I came by. But you weren't around."
"I did hape some chores. . . . Anyway, what happened?"
"I was in another field later — the place we're going to now, near you. There was a pair of crows rising and falling there, and I was thinking of lunch. So were they, as it turned out. They were eating the officer's eyes, where he lay in a clump of weeds. Just up ahead."
We approached. The birds were gone. So were the eyes. The man was in uniform. His throat had been cut.
I sat down and stared.
"I don't like this at all," I finally said.
"Didn't think you would."
"It's too near. We lipe just oper that way."
"And we lipe oper there."
"Hape you told anyone else yet?"
"No. So it's not one of yours — unless you're a pery good actor."
I shook my head.
"It doesn't make any sense."
"Jack is supposed to hape magical control oper a certain ritual blade."
"And Owen has a sickle. So what? And Rastop has an amazing icon drawn by a mad Arab who'd gipen up on Islam. But he could hape used a kitchen knife. And Jill has her broom. She could still find something to cut a throat with.