"Douglas Hill - Last Legionary 0 - Young Legionary" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hill Douglas)

mountains leaned their shoulders together. As the flyer's thrusters cut out, stillness returned to the dark
spaces among the peaks, where a gusting wind moaned as if disturbed by the intrusion. The side of the
flyer lifted smoothly away, spilling light on to the flat rock, and two people stepped out.

One was tall and slender, unmistakably a woman despite the severe cut of her dark-grey uniform, which
had flashes of colour at the wrists and a sky-blue circlet on the upper chest. Her long face was
hollow-cheeked, with deep lines around the mouth, and her short hair was streaked with grey. Yet she
moved with the light-footed grace of an athlete in peak condition.

The other person was a boy no more than twelve years old, slim and dark-haired. He wore no uniform -
in fact he wore nothing except a loincloth of grey material wrapped round his hips. For all his slimness, he
was wiry and well muscled, and his step was as light and lithe as that of his companion.

Wordlessly, they walked to the edge of the plateau and gazed down into the darkness, where a sheer cliff
of rock fell away into invisible depths. The moaning wind gusted into a howl, slashing at them with what
seemed like fangs of ice. But the woman seemed indifferent to the cold as she turned to the boy, studying
him keenly.

'Now I must again state the full process of the Ordeal.' Her voice was melodious, but held the firmness of
years of authority. 'Are you prepared?'

The boy did not move or look at her. 'Yes, Commander Maron,' he said quietly.

She took a deep breath, her eyes still fixed on the boy. 'Keill Randor, you have reached the plateau of
years between childhood and manhood. This plateau where we stand is a symbol of that threshold. And
the Ordeal that awaits you is a symbol of the hardships and struggles to come in the years ahead. Do you
understand?'

'Yes, Commander.'

'In your childhood training,' Maron went on, 'you have shown promise. You must now fulfil that promise.
If you succeed in the Ordeal, you will enter your advanced training with the Young Legionaries. Do you
understand?'

'Yes, Commander.' Again the ritual question drew the quiet ritual reply.

'The Ordeal,' Maron continued, 'requires you to travel from here down through the mountains, unarmed
and unequipped. From the maps you have seen, you know the location of your goal - the Colourless
Valley. I and some others will wait there, for two days, timed from tomorrow's dawn. If you have not
reached us by then, you will have failed the Ordeal. We will then launch a search for you. Have you any
questions?'

Keill stared out into the chill blackness, a hundred questions clamouring in his mind. How many others
have failed the Ordeal? How many have not survived it? What will be waiting for me out there? But he
knew that most of those questions would answer themselves, eventually. And he suspected that the ritual
required him not to ask questions - but instead to show himself ready to face whatever was to come, as
it came. So he replied simply, 'No, Commander.'

In the woman's eyes, still fixed on him, shone a brief flash of approval. And there was something else in
her eyes - a short-lived softening, which might have been sympathy.