"Bradley,.Marion.Zimmer.-.Darkover.-.Clingfire.1.-.Fall.Of.Neskaya.(.With.Deborah.J.Ross)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bradley Marion Zimmer)

"And we both know I don't need a nursemaid," Coryn went on. "I think... I think it would be less insulting to both of us if I took the kirian, the vial he gave you, and used it when I need to. Instead of you having to watch over me and the trail at the same time."
He half-expected Rafe to protest, but the man nodded, fetched the leather pouch from his saddlebag, and handed it over.
Coryn waited until Rafe had gone off into the ferny undergrowth to relieve himself. Crouching beside the stream, he unstoppered the vial. A faint lemony smell rose from within. He dumped out the contents, rinsed the vial twice and refilled it with fresh water. Except for a bit of dampness, no one could tell by looking that anything had changed. He tucked the wrapped vial inside his vest, next to the folded handkerchief.
Mounting up once more, Coryn felt as if a great weight had been lifted. He'd broken free of Rumail's hold. He was going to a Tower, to be trained in laran, to learn to fly a glider with his starstone and maybe learn the secrets of talking to other Towers at a distance or making clingfire. He sang and made jokes as the day drew on. Although Rafe wasn't much for conversation, he smiled now and again.
Late into the fourth day, Coryn and Rafe left the forested slopes for barren, rock-strewn hillsides. Haze covered the sky. The air turned icy, with a metallic taste. Thunder rumbled, soft and blurred. The horses jittered on the narrow path and the usually placid pack chervine shook its antlered head nervously.
Coryn pulled his horse to a halt at Rafe's signal. The old soldier lifted his head, turned to the north. "From up Aldaran

way, I reckon. Ages ago, they worked weather-magic there. Mayhap they still do. We'd best find shelter."
Dancer whinnied and pawed the trail, pulling at the bit. Coryn nudged him on. Clearly, this was no ordinary storm- the taste of the rising wind, the sudden chill, the prickly feeling along the back of his neck-all bespoke some kind of laran at work. He'd never heard of weather-magic, and Al-daran, though fearsome, had always seemed far away.
They urged the horses around the curve of the hill. Hooves clattered on loose rock, sending a rain of chips down-slope. The thunder took on a sharper tone.
Coryn lifted his eyes to the featureless white sky, but saw no lightning. "Rafe-"
But the older man, in the lead, wrestled his mount to a halt. The horse pranced and swished its tail. In an instant, Coryn's heart fell. The entire hillside lay covered beneath a rockfall. Instead of a narrow trail bounded on either side with barren soil pocked with boulders and scrub brush, steep but passable, they faced a pile of jagged boulders, many of them chest-high to the horses. Upward, the entire cliff face had fractured and fallen away. In the V-shaped crevice at the bottom of the hill, a small copse of brush and a few straggly trees still stood.
Lightning flashed across the sky and thunder cracked again. Clouds, gray and swollen, billowed out from the north, building visibly from one moment to the next. The wind, even colder now, whipped across Coryn's face.
"Which way?" he called to Rafe, raising his voice above the wind.
The old mercenary's mouth twisted as he brought his horse to face downhill. The horse squealed, refusing for a moment until Rafe reined him in a tight circle and clapped his heels into the animal's sides.
The horses stumbled down the rise, following the rockfall.

Even the surefooted pack chervine lost its footing once. After a few minutes, Rafe signaled for them to dismount and lead their animals.
Dark, angry-looking clouds now stretched from one horizon to the other. Lightning kindled the sky, followed almost instantly by ear-splitting thunder. Dancer whinnied and pulled back, ears pinned flat against his neck. Coryn patted him and urged him on. The horse moved forward, reluctance in every tense line of his body.
Wetness spattered Coryn's face: huge, icy drops. Within moments, the rain increased to a downpour. He pawed through the chervine's packs for his hooded cloak. By the time he managed to pull it out, his shirt and vest were soaked through.
Coryn shouted to Rafe, who'd wasted no time in donning his own cloak. "We've got to get out of this!" Through the downpour, he could see the copse at the valley floor. It wouldn't offer much shelter, but it was more than they had here.
Then he saw-sensed-an invisible river tumbling down the V-cleft, gaining power with each passing moment, carrying away everything in its path-men and horses as well as straggly trees.
"Flash flood!" Coryn cried.
.Rafe already had brought his horse and pack animal to face upslope. Dancer and the chervine turned eagerly, as if they realized the danger also.
Climbing back up was harder than Coryn imagined possible. His boots slipped on the loose rock, now slick with rain. A stone tipped and slid away as he stepped on it. Pain shot up the outside of his ankle.
A few minutes later, Dancer lost his footing and slid backward in a hail of stones. The horse's forehooves pawed the slope frantically. From below, Rafe cursed; one of the

stones must have struck him. Coryn dropped the reins rather than risk them snapping. He watched, his heart pounding, as the dun horse slid another few feet and came to a stop, hindquarters bunched. White ringed its eyes.
Coryn clambered down to Dancer and gathered up the reins. "Easy, easy," he murmured, stroking the horse's hide. The horse quivered under his touch. He felt the animal's fear as a battering wave. The more he reassured the horse, the more calm he himself felt.
Rain came down in a torrent, making it impossible to see more than a few feet. Wind blew steadily, driving the droplets deeper into the folds of Coryn's cloak. Step by agonizing step, Coryn led the horse up the slope to where his pack chervine stood, shaking its antlered head to send sprays of water in all directions.
"No point in going on," Rafe said as he brought his own two animals level with Coryn. "Stop now, wait it out."
Rafe was right. It would take hours to work their way to the top of the rockfall and find some way across. Even then, they might find themselves in exactly the same situation without adequate shelter, only wetter and more exhausted.
Rafe, not waiting for a reply, moved toward the rocky barrier. This close, the barrier gave a slight but perceptible shelter from the wind.
"There!" Rafe said.
Coryn couldn't see what the old soldier pointed to, but as they approached, he made out a rough overhang where a huge flat shard extended like a tabletop beyond its supporting boulders. It was barely deep enough for the two of them, but the ground underneath looked relatively dry.
"Saddlebags-there. Blankets-there." In a few terse commands, Rafe organized the little shelter. "In!" He half-pushed Coryn to the back of the overhang. "Out of those clothes!"

"But-" Coryn bit off his protest. His shirt and vest were soaked to the skin, and now that he was no longer climbing, chill seeped through. It was better here, out of the wind, but not much. Even as a child, he knew wet clothes would steal body heat even when the outside temperature wasn't that cold.
He set aside his cloak, which was thick enough to be dry on the inside. Shaking, he tugged off his boots and wet clothing. A sudden gust cut across his bare skin like a knife edge. The next moment, Rafe shoved a bundle into his hands-his winter-weight shirt and pants of soft thick wool, which Rafe had somehow dug out from the bottom of the chervine 's pack.
By the time Coryn had pulled on his dry clothes, Rafe crawled in beside him and forced the chervine to lie down, its body blocking the worst of the wind. The horses, tethered close to the opening, assumed postures of sullen endurance with their heads down and tails clamped against their rumps.
Thunder sounded again, shivering through the rockfall. Coryn couldn't tell its direction. The rain redoubled its strength; the sound shifted to a harsher note.
Hail.
Coryn caught a glimpse of the pellets of ice over the chervine's shoulder. He began to shiver again.
"Ah, there," Rafe said gently, drawing his own blankets around Coryn.
A sudden deafening noise, louder than thunder, jolted Coryn. His eyes focused on gray light outside. The din increased, as if some giant were slamming boulders into the hillside above them.
Rafe sat bolt upright, grabbing for the chervine's reins. The animal let out a terrified bleat as it struggled to rise. Rafe grabbed the chervine's head, using it as a lever to force the animal back down, on to its side.

Coryn caught a glimpse of rocks pelting down the hillside. Their impact quivered through the boulders around him, through the very earth itself. Rain sleeted, now straight down, now gusting to spray his face with half-frozen droplets.
The outer edge of the overhang splintered with a resounding crack! One of the horses screamed, suddenly cut off. Coryn flinched and gathered his feet under him. Every fiber in his body shrilled to get out now!