"Books - David Eddings - Belgarath the Sorcerer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Eddings David)

and I went up into those mountains and proceeded in a generally
northwesterly direction. I made us a proper camp every night. Fire
had made her nervous right at first, but now she rather liked having a
fire in the evening.

After a few days I realized that we were going to be passing fairly
close to Prolgu. I didn't really like the current Gorim very much;
this particular successor seemed to feel that Ulgos were better than
the rest of mankind. I reluctantly concluded that it'd be bad manners
to bypass Prolgu without paying a courtesy call, so I veered slightly
north in order to reach the city.

The route I chose to reach Prolgu ran up through a thickly wooded gorge
with a tumbling mountain stream running down the middle of it. It was
about midmorning, and the sunlight had just reached the damp got torn
of the gorge. I was wool-gathering, I suppose. A kind of peace and
serenity comes over me when I'm in the mountains.

Then the wolf laid her ears back and growled warningly.

"What's the problem?" I asked her, speaking in the language of men
without even thinking about it.

"Horses," she replied in wolvish.

"But perhaps they are not really horses. They smell of blood and of
raw meat."

"Do not be concerned," I told her, lapsing into wolvish.

"One has encountered them before. They are Hrulgin. They are
meat-eaters. What you smell is the blood and meat of a deer."

"One thinks that you are wrong. The smell is not that of deer. What
one smells is the blood and meat of man."

"That is impossible." I snorted.

"The Hrulgin are not man-eaters.

They live in peace with the Ulgos here in these mountains."

"One's nose is very good," she told me pointedly.

"One would not confuse the smell of man-blood and meat with the smell
of a deer. These flesh-eating horses have been killing and eating men,
and they are hunting again."

"Hunting? Hunting what?"