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Axler, James - Outlanders 02 - Destiny Run
the wreck and ruin of Khara Bator's palace. Great blocks of basalt and granite
had fallen from the building, and the main vault of the roof was open to the sky.
But the inner arches still stood, and fragments of fretted galleries stretched to
nowhere. Broken statues lay in the dust, their features mutilated by the merciless
hand of time. The carved eye sockets were filled with grit.
The effort to clear away centuries of accumulated sand and detritus had to have
been monumentally back-breaking. Despite himself, Kane felt a grudging
admiration grow for the Tushe Gun and his devoted followers.
Sverdlovosk steered the truck around a white yurt in the middle of the courtyard.
A sear-faced man armed with a brace of automatic pistols stood in front of it,
seeming to pay no attention to the vehicle. Nodding toward the dome, the
Russian said, "Inside that tent is the well, which leads down to the vault. It is
always guarded."
In front of the palace ruins they saw seven large yurts, bigger than any they had
passed in the valley, arranged in a circle. In the center of the cluster squatted the
largest of the domes. It was black, decorated with petroglyphs in crimson.
On either side of it stood long wooden poles ten feet tall. Red-and-black banners
were wrapped around the shafts, the loose ends fluttering in the breeze. Affixed
to the very tops of the poles were human heads, the necks severed cleanly.
Though the sagging, immobile faces were spotted with dried blood, Kane and
Grant recognized Adrian and Davis. Kane hissed in anger at the sight, but he was
glad Brigid was unable to see them.
The black-garbed riders halted their animals and dismounted. A man took the
horses' reins and led them to a rope picket line off to one side. Sverdlovosk
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Axler, James - Outlanders 02 - Destiny Run
braked the wag and turned off the engine, pocketing the key. Grant stepped
down from the running board as Boro and his men climbed from their saddles,
turning their horses over to the men with blackened faces. Boro walked toward
the center yurt while Kane, Sverdlovosk and Grant waited beside the truck. It
was warmer within the city walls than in the valley, and the air smelled cleaner.
The tent flap opened, pulled from the inside. Boro spoke to someone in the
interior, then turned and beckoned the three men to join him. Moving single file,
they ducked their heads and entered the yurt. It was surprisingly well lit, the
floor covered with carpets bearing elaborately woven geometric forms. One such
design that Kane saw repeated was a red triangle bisected by three vertical lines.
The light shone from several small square panels hanging from the domed roof
of the tent. They exuded a steady blue-yellow glow. Dimly lit by the panels, the
Tushe Gun leaned forward on his seat of cushions at the shadowy back of the
yurt. Grant and Kane tried hard not to stare.
The Tushe Gun was dressed colorfully in high boots of dyed red leather, blue
leggings and a black silk tunic decorated with dragons worked in golden thread.
Red gauntlets encased his hands and forearms. A fur-trimmed cloak of green fell
from his shoulders to the backs of his ankles. The green complemented the
smooth mask of carved jade covering his face. He made an imposing, dramatic
figure, but there was something not quite right about him.
The Tushe Gun appeared taller than his fellow Mongols, with a broad chest and
equally broad shoulders, but shorter legs, which was often the case with this
body type. Yet even at a glance, his legs and arms seemed disproportionate
compared to his torso. Overall, the impression was that there was something
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Axler, James - Outlanders 02 - Destiny Run
unnaturally out of balance in his build.
On the index finger of his right hand glinted a massive silver ring that covered an
entire joint. It resembled a snarling, ferocious dragon's head, fanged jaws agape.
A necklace of small gold beads hung from his neck to his waist. Around his hips
was a tasseled cord of interwoven rainbow colors. Attached to the cord was a
long, sheathed saber, the scabbard set with dozens of multihued gems.
Behind the curved eyelets, a glittering gaze studied them.
Sverdlovosk dropped to one knee, and after a brief hesitation Kane and Grant
followed suit, ducking their heads and sticking out their tongues as the Russian
had earlier instructed them to do. Only Boro didn't kneel in submission or
respect. Kane assumed that as the Tushe Gun's father, he was exempt from the
prerequisite groveling.
The masked form spoke in a peculiarly sibilant voice, the timbre hard and liquid
at the same time. Boro shook his head and replied in an angry and contemptuous
tone.
The hands of the man in the mask caressed the pommel of his saber. They were
small hands, slender and almost delicate in shape. The green mask shifted away [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]