"Brackett, Leigh - Skaith 2 - Hounds Of Skaith" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brackett Leigh)

Stark nodded. "I'll remember." To Gerrith and Ashton he said, "Gather your belongings." He called to two of the Hooded Men and told them to carry Halk's litter outside.
The hounds came dripping and slobbering from the trough.
Gelmar said, "Stark. They will not follow you below Yurunna. Then you will be two men and a woman with a half-dead burden to bow your backs and only your six hands between you to fight with when the Yur come to take you." He turned suddenly to Gerrith. "Has the wise woman something to say?"
She stood frozen in the act of pulling up her hood. She had the look of a prophetess once more, her eyes at once seeing and not seeing, fixed on Gelmar, her lips open to form words.
Stark said her name sharply. She started. Then for a moment she seemed bemused, like one waking suddenly from sleep in a strange place. Stark put his hand on her shoulder, guiding her toward the door. He did not answer Gelmar. There was nothing to say, except that what would happen would happen; and that they all knew anyway.
They passed the women and children. Jofr stood straight, a small thing of prey already shaped for his world.
Gerrith stopped. "Take the boy," she said.
The women screamed like eagles. Ekmal came, one hand for the boy and one for his dagger. Gerd growled.
Stark said, "I will not."
"No harm will come to him," Gerrith said, and her voice rang like a far-off bell. "Take him, Stark, or Mother Skaith will bury us all."
Stark hesitated. Then reluctantly he reached out for the boy.
Gerd growled louder.
"You heard the wise woman," Stark said. "No harm will come to him. Do not make me use the hounds."
The boy's mother spoke, one word, the deadliest one she knew. Ekmal's hand hovered over his knife. The hounds growled.
Stark said, "Come."
Jofr looked at his father. "Must I?"
"It seems so."
"Very well," said Jofr, and smiled. "I am an Ochar."
He stepped forward alone to Stark's side.
They went out into the yard. The animals were ready, linked by leading lines, three of them saddled with the high desert saddles, covered in worked leather with designs of many colors tempered by sun and wind. The litter was suspended between two of the animals, and Halk was once more an inert bundle, his face hidden beneath the hood.
They mounted. Stark took Jofr before him in the saddle. They rode away from the house, past the heaps of Runner bodies by the pens, past the gnawed and scattered bones of the Harsenyi beasts.
Ekmal and the Hooded Men stood watching them until they vanished beyond the walls. Then Ekmal went into the house and spoke to Gelmar.
"Lord, is it true that he and that other are not born of Skaith-Mother?"
"That is true."
Ekmal signed the air. "Then they are demons. They have taken my son, Lord. What must I do?"
Without hesitation Gelmar said, "Bring the Swiftwing."
Ekmal went along one of the tunnels of the house. The tower of murmuring birds lay to his right, but he did not go to it. They were base creatures, fit only for food. He turned to the left and climbed narrow steps to a high apartment with window slits that let in the light of Old Sun and the wind of the desert. There were hangings of faded crimson on the walls, and trophies of weapons and skulls. Some of the skulls were brittle and yellow with age, crumbling dustily at the rims of the jaws and eyeholes.
In the center of the room, on an iron perch, sat a creature that seemed itself to be all of iron and bronze, a martial armor of shining feathers. Even with the great wings closed it had a look of speed and power, one sharp clean stroke from the crown of its snaky head to the last of its tapered tail. One of these dwelt in the house of every chief among the Ochar. Fed from the chief's table, with its slender collar of gold, it was the badge and sign and pride of chieftainship, ranking equally with honor and before life, wife, mother or child.
"Swiftwing," said Ekmal. "Sky-piercer. Wind-rider. Lightning-brother."
The creature opened eyes like two red stars and looked at Ekmal. It opened its beak and cried out stridently the only word it knew:
"War!"
"Of course, war," said Ekmal, holding out his arm.
9
The beasts were fresh and strong, striding easily over the sand. The hounds trotted quietly. The wind continued to drop, diminishing the brownness of the air.
Stark rode like a thundercloud, one arm about the small ferocity of Jofr, who sat straight and unbending, his body yielding only to the motion of the beast.
Gerrith said, "You are angry about the boy."
"Yes," said Stark. "I am angry about the boy. And I'm angry about something elseЧthe visions."
"Let the boy go," Ashton said. "He can find his way back easily enough."
Gerrith sighed. "Do that if you will. But none of us will ever see Yurunna."
Ashton turned and studied her face. He had known many peoples on many worlds. He had seen many things that he could neither believe nor disbelieve, and he had acknowledged his ignorance.
"What did you see," he asked, "before Eric woke you?"
"I saw Eric . . . Stark ... in a strange place, a place of rocks. There were Hooded Men there, but their cloaks were of different colors, not the orange of the First-Come. They seemed to be hailing Stark, and someone . . . something . . . was performing a ritual with a knife. I saw blood..."
The boy had stiffened in the circle of Stark's arm.
"Whose blood?" Stark asked.
"Yours. But it seemed to be shed in promise, in propitiation." She looked at Jofr. "The boy was there. I saw upon his forehead that he was to be your guide. Without him you would not find the way."
"You're sure of this?" Ashton said.
"I'm sure of what I saw. That is all I can be sure of. Has Stark told you? My mother was Gerrith, the wise woman of Irnan. She prophesied in the fullness of power. I do not. My gift is small and fitful. It comes as it will. I see, and I do not see." She turned to Stark. "You are angry about visions! I'm sick of them. I'd prefer to go blundering ahead without sight, as you do, trusting nothing but my own hands and brain. Yet these windows open and I look through them, and I must tell what I see. Otherwise . . ." She shook her head violently. "All that time in the stone house, with those things clawing and screaming to get in at us, I kept seeing you being torn apart and I couldn't tell whether it was the true sight or only my own fear."
Ashton said, "I had the same vision. It was fear."
"The hounds passed a miracle," Stark said. He was watching the boy's bright head, which was poised now with a new alertness.
Gerrith shuddered. "They'll come again."