"James Herbert - Rats 02 - Lair" - читать интересную книгу автора (Herbert James)

took a few steps towards the thicket, then stopped, its neck and legs
suddenly stiff.

There was no movement from the undergrowth, not even the rustle of
unseen leaves beneath its many layers.

"Come on, girl," said Denison, irritated at his mount's unexpected
nervousness. "On you go."

But the horse refused to budge. It regarded the thicket with bulging
eyes. Denison became impatient with the horse's inexplicable fear and
fear it was, for the keeper could feel the rising tension in the beast.
He knew horses, knew their moods, and he certainly knew this mood. The
horse was ready to bolt.

"Steady now, Bettina. There's nothing there to worry you." He patted
the chestnut's long neck, speaking in soft, soothing tones. Bettina
was normally the most docile of animals, rarely spooked by the abrupt
actions of startled wildlife. "Calm yourself, girl, and we'll go on
our way."

The horse skipped from hoof to hoof, jerking its head up and away from
the now silent thicket. The keeper exerted pressure with his left knee
and pulled the reins towards the right, trying to steer his mount down
the path and away from the menacing undergrowth.

And then the horse was off. There had been no other sound, no other
movement from the thicket, but the tension inside the skittish horse
had finally boiled over, and the mare fled away, hoofs pounding,
digging deep into the path and throwing clumps of earth high into the
air behind it.

Denison tugged at the reins, his legs stiff against the stirrups, his
body thrown backwards in an attempt to control the chestnut's gallop.
But the terror in the animal was stronger than the pull of its master's
hands. Low branches came dangerously near Denison's face as the horse
sped along the churned-up path, and he decided to let his mount have
its head, to run itself out, to disperse its energy until its strength
and will was more controllable.

They cleared the trees and Denison silently thanked God; open grassland
was before them. The horse left the path and headed into the lush
fields, the keeper praying that it would not step into a rut or a hole
and break its leg. And possibly, his neck.

He tugged at the reins again and sensed some of the excitement leaving
the horse now that it was out on open ground.

Whoa, girl! Stop now, girl! Whoa, Bettina!" Denison tried not to
shout the words, but it was hard to keep the urgency, the near-panic,