Читать книгу Through the Thorns into the Abyss онлайн

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– Fuck off, my friend,» Gan said, still smiling as he kept his eyes closed. – You’d better do Sahu, he’s all melancholy now…

Sauri was indeed melancholy, sitting on a sack of straw, dreamily contemplating the landscape. The view from the hill was wonderful – there was plenty to contemplate. The sun’s rays pierced through the soft spring mist and seemed to enliven the verdant pastures where flocks of sheep grazed on carpets of lush grass. Far above the horizon towered the snow-covered peaks of the Grey Mountains… Beautiful! From time to time Sahu made notes on a sheet of old paper – evidently he was creating poetry. He wore a wreath of dandelions on his head, and his face was both dreamy and focused. Not a good distraction, and not much of an adversary either. A poet.

That left Matah. A big, quiet fellow, he was clearly wary now. He was sipping tea, perched on a mossy fallen log, but his green eyes were twinkling and gleaming strangely. Occasionally, Matah glanced at the strange smoke rising on the horizon – and scratched the back of his head.