"Anderson, Poul - Sky People, The" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anderson Poul)

УOnly if you remain here,Ф said Tresa. Her eyes were chips of green ice. УWould to Marl you had not pledged yourself to sail!Ф
УIf they come after us at seaЧФ
УI do not think they will. You carry a hundred women and a few trade goods. The Sky People will have their pick of ten thousand women, as many men, and all our cityТs treasures. СWliy should they take the trouble to pursue you?Ф
УAye . . . aye. . . .У
УGo,Ф she said coldly. УYou dare not linger.Ф
He faced her. It had been like a blow. УWhat do you mean?Ф he asked. УDo you think the Maurai are cowards?Ф
She hesitated. Then, with a stubborn, reluctant honesty: УNo.Ф
УSo why do you scoff me?Ф
УOh, go away!Ф She knelt by the rail, bowed head in arms and surrendered to herself.
Ruori left her and gave his orders. Men scrambled into the rigging. Furled canvas broke loose and cracked in a young wind. Beyond the jetty, the ocean glittered blue, with small whitecaps;
gulls skimmed across heaven. Ruori saw only the glimpses he had had before, as he led the retre~it from the palace.
A weaponless man, lying with his head split open. A girl, hardly twelve years old, who screamed as two raiders carried her into an alley. An aged man fleeing in terror, zigzagging, while four archers took potshots at him and howled laughter when he fell transfixed and dragged himself along on his hands. A woman sitting dumb in the street, her dress torn, next to a baby whose brains had been dashed out. A little statue in a niche, a holy image, with a faded bunch of violets at its feet, beheaded by a casual war-hammer. A house that burned, and shrieks from within.
Suddenly the aircraft overhead were not beautiful.
To reach up and pull them out of the sky!
Ruori stopped dead. The crew surged around him. He heard a short-haul chantey, deep young voices with the merriment of always having been free and well fed, but it echoed in a far corner of his brain.
УCasting off!Ф sang the mate.
УNot yet! Not yet! Wait!Ф -
Ruori ran toward the poop, up the ladder and past the steersman to Doflita Tresa. She had risen again, to stand with bent head past which the hair swept to hide her face.
УTresa,Ф panted Ruori. УTresa, IТve an idea. I thinkЧthere may be a chanceЧperhaps we can fight back after all!Ф
She looked up. Her fingers closed on his arm till he felt the nails draw blood.
Words tumbled from him: УIt will depend. . . on luring them to us. At least a couple of their vessels. . . must follow us.
to sea. I think thenЧIТm not sure of the details, but it may be. we can fight . . . even drive them offЧФ
Still she stared at him. He felt a hesitation. УOf course,Ф he said, Уwe may lose the fight. And we do have the women aboard.Ф
УIf you lose,Ф she asked, so low he could scarcely hear it, Уwill we die or be captured?Ф
УI think we will die.Ф
УThat is well.Ф She nodded, shivering. УYes. Fight, then.Ф
УThere is one thing I am unsure of. How to make them pursue us.Ф He paused. УIf someone were to let himself. . . be captured by themЧand told them we were carrying off a great treasureЧ would they believe that?Ф
УThey might well do so.Ф Life had come back to her voice, even eagerness. УLet us say, the caldeТs hoard. None ever existed, but the robbers would believe my fatherТs cellars were stuffed with gold.Ф
УThen someone must go to them,Ф said Ruori. He turned his back to her, twisted his fingers together and slogged toward a conclusion he did not want to reach. УBut it could not be just anyone. They would club a man in among the other slaves, would they not? I mean, would they listen to him at all?Ф
УProbably not. Very few of them know Spaflol. By the time a man who babbled of treasure was understood, they might all be halfway home.Ф Tresa scowled. УWhat shall we do?Ф
Ruori saw the answer, but he could not get it past his throat.
УI am sorry,Ф he mumbled. УMy idea was not so good after all. Let us be gone.Ф
The girl forced her way between him and the rail to stand in front of him, touching as if they danced again. Her voice was altogether steady. УYou know a way.Ф
УI do not!Ф
УI have come to know you well, in one night. You are a poor liar. Tell me.Ф
He looked away. Somehow, he got out: УA womanЧnot any woman, but a very beautiful oneЧwould she not soon be taken to their chief?Ф
Tresa stood aside. The color drained from her face.
УYes,Ф she said at last. УI think so.Ф
УBut then again,Ф said Ruori wretchedly, Уshe might be killed. They do so much wanton killing, those men. I cannot let anyone who was given into my protection risk death.Ф
УYou heathen fool,Ф she said through tight lips, Уdo you think the chance of being killed matters to me?Ф
УWhat else could happen?Ф he asked, surprised. And then: УOh, yes, of course, the woman would be a slave if we lost the battle
afterward. Though I should imagine, if she is beautiful, she would not be badly treated.Ф
УAnd is that all youЧФ Tresa stopped. He had never known it was possible for a smile to show pure hurt. УOf course. I should have realized. Your people have other ways of thinking.Ф
УWhat do you mean?Ф he fumbled.
A moment more she stood with clenched fists. Then, half to herself: УThey killed my father, yes, I saw him dead in the doorway. They would leave my city a ruin peopled by corpses.Ф
Her head lifted. УI shall go,Ф she said.
УYou?Ф He grabbed her shoulders. УNo, surely not you! One of the othersЧФ
УShould I send anyone else? I am the caldeТs daughter.Ф
She pulled herself free of him and hurried across the deck, down the ladder toward the gangway. Her face was turned from the ship. A few words drifted back: УAfterward, if there is an afterward, there is always the convent.Ф
He did not understand. He stood on the poop, staring after her and abominating himself until she was lost to sight. Then he said, УCast off,Ф and the ship stood out to sea.