"Barbara Hambly - Darwath 5 - Icefalcons Quest" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hambly Barbara)

that scored this land and the low clumps of rabbitbrush and juniper that lifted above the waving green
lake of grass.
The three black warriors, he saw, carried heavy packs-blankets and provisions for many days-bad news
given his own need to hunt as he went. When they halted for nooning, he briefly considered helping
himself to their stores but gave up the idea at once.
Like most of the warriors of the Real World, he carried talismans to give him at least some protection
against the illusions-and the scrying abilities-of Wise Ones, but such amulets were only as good as the
shaman who wrought them, and he suspected Bektis would be able to see through such wards without
much trouble if he had any suspicion that there was a reason to look.
Even could he slip past whatever guardian-wards Bektis might put around the camp, the mere fact of the
thefts would alert them that they were being watched, and with a Wise One in the party this was far too
dangerous to permit.
He was eking out his small supplies of meat and fish with the roots of last autumn's water plantains and
cattails, but even they took time to gather and prepare, and he could feel hunger gaining on him.
Toward sunset of the second day they left the road and turned north to Bison Hill, a mound in the midst
of the prairie covered with elder and cottonwood and used by travelers as a campsite-and by bandits as
a handy place to find travelers-since time immemorial.
Deer grazed in the woods, as did the small swift antelope of the plains. He worked his way up to the
knoll through stream cuts and bison wallows and under cover of the long prairie grass, making a mental
note to speak to Janus about changing the clothing of the Guards from their traditional black to the colors
of the earth.
From a thicket of wild grapes some distance back he watched Hethya and one of the three black
warriors-clones, Gil had called them, meaning identical people who were presumably common to her
world-unload the donkeys while Bektis built a fire at the edge of the shelter of the trees.
Only an idiot or a Wise One would build a fire in such a place, where anyone could take advantage of
the cover to come up on them, even as the Icefalcon was doing. But he supposed that with the advantage
of wizardry it was possible to remain comfortably out of the wind and not worry about who or what
might be deeper in the woods.
Any of the Talking Stars People would have camped some distance from the knoll, where they could see
in all directions, even had they had a Wise One in their company.
There was never a guarantee that some other war band wouldn't include a shaman more Wise than one's
own.
"I can help you," said Tir, as Hethya lifted him down from the donkey. "I promise I won't run away." He
spoke matter-of-factly, but with a friendliness in his voice that told the Icefalcon that this woman must
have used him kindly over the past day and a half.
Indeed, the woman's face was not cruel, and by the way she patted Tir on the shoulder, and the
closeness between them as they stood, it was clear that she was used to children and liked them.
She glanced now over at Bektis, who was ordering the warriors about placing the blankets. It was the
closest the Icefalcon had been to them-less than a hundred feet-and he studied the weapon of crystal and
gold on the sorcerer's hand with wary interest.
A device of similar workmanship around Bektis' neck, a high collar fitted up close under the ears, was
visible only briefly when the wizard pushed down the furred hood of his coat and tried to untangle his
beard.
"I think best not, sweeting," Hethya said in a voice so low the Icefalcon had to guess at some of the
words. "But thank you; 'tis kind of you thinking of it." She ruffled his hair again. "Sit you down there
under the tree a bit. We'll be having supper soon, and I'll untie you to eat. Are you tired?"
Tir shook his head, though he looked beaten with weariness. He followed her, his hands still bound
behind his back-the Icefalcon could see where his wrists were bandaged under the thongs-while she
unshipped a little nest of cook pots.
"Does Oale Niu just tell you things?" he asked her as she worked. "Or do you see things, or smell them