"Gordon R. Dickson - Childe Cycle 05 - The Spirit of Dorsai" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dickson Gordon R)

be among those who would die, if necessary. The invading soldiers had no such planтАФand no such
courage."

He shook his head.

"I don't understand," he said.

"That's because you're not Dorsai. And because you don't understand someone like the first
Amanda."

"No," he said. "That's true. I don't."

He looked at her.

"How did it happen?" he asked. "How did she-how did they do it? I have to know."

"You do?" Her gaze was unmoving on him.

"Yes," he said. There were so many things he had not been able to explain, things he had not
admitted to her yet. There was the matter of his visit to Foralie, and the particular moment in
which he had stepped into the doorway which some of the towering Graeme men, such as Ian and
Kensie, the twin uncles of Donal Graeme, had been said to fill from sill to lintel and from side to
side. As it had been with them, Hal's unshod feet had rested on the sill and the top of his head
brushed the lintel. But unlike them, his shoulder-points had not touched the frame on either side.

It might be that with recovered health and some years of growth yet, that, too, could happen. But
it did not matter. What matteredтАФand what he could not yet bring himself to talk aboutтАФwas the
sudden, poignant, feeling in him of kinship with the Graemes, unexpected as a blow, that had
come on him without warning, as he stood in the doorway.

"I need to know," he said again.

"All right," she said. "I'll tell you just how it was."

AMANDA

MORGAN

Stone are my walls, and my roof is of timber; But the hands of my builder are stronger by far. The
roof may be burned and my stones may be scattered. Never her light be defeated in warтАж

Song of the house named Fal Morgan

Amanda Morgan woke suddenly in darkness, her finger automatically on the firing button of the heavy
energy handgun. She had heardтАФor dreamed she heardтАФthe cry of a child. Rousing further, she
remembered Betta in the next room and faced the impossibility of her great-granddaughter giving birth
without calling her. It had been part of her dream, then.

Still, for a few seconds more, she lay, feeling the ghosts of old enemies still around her and the sleeping
house. The cry had merged with the dream she had been having. In her dream, she had been reliving the