"Robert Don Hughes - Pelman 01 - The Prophet Of Lamath" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hughes Robert Don)

Though he guessed that Pezi would not follow, he kept a cautious watch behind them as they rode through the
green-cloaked foothills. He also watched the valley below, for any unusual troop movements across the lands of the
merchant league. There was little danger yet, but Pelman knew that certain of the larger houses had discovered ways
of transmitting messages many miles without the use of a blue flyer. Pelman assumed that in the next day or two, after
Pezi reached Lamath, these hills would be covered with merchant riders. They would not allow so precious a prize as
the Lady Bronwynn to be stolen away so easily.

Pelman also glanced frequently to the sky, watching for the massive shadow of the dragon moving overhead. He
urged the horse to move faster, and soon they were galloping full speed across the hillside. The more ground put
between them and Dragonsgate, the safer Pelman would feel.

Bronwynn, too, was watching, but with wonder rather than caution. Her homeland of Chaomonous was flat and fertile,
a country of great rivers and vast fields. What few mountains she had seen were the short, round-top hills of the
southern sector of that land. Never before had she seen mountains so tall and steep and of such stark beauty, nor
valleys so wildly green. To her left, the sheer face of the Spinal Range climbed up and out of sight. To her right, the
craggy highlands of fabled Ngandib-Mar unrolled as far as she could see. Every majestic mountain peak rose out of its
own deliciously green little valley. It all seemed so close and immediate that Bronwynn felt she could reach out and
touch it. Yet when she dropped her eyes to the vast plain below them, plaidlike from the crisscross pattern of furrowed
fields and fences, she realized those hills and valleys that looked so near were really miles away. Still, somehow she
had the sensation of being in an intimate land, a manageable land, a warm, familiar, closeknit land. Her feelings
frightened her. To experience such exultation at the mere sight of this foreign place- this hereditary enemy of her
homeland-seemed somehow treasonous. This was the homeplace of squat blond slaves, she reminded herself-a land of
cannibals and witchcraft. But those craggy mountains across the valley stole her heart with their simple, powerful
beauty. It was a jolting experience, one not entirely pleasant. Unexplained melancholy seized her; and though she had
not cried once throughout the ordeal of her abduction, a stupid, senseless tear now trickled down her cheek. She
brushed it away, and closed her eyes against the splendor of the world below her.

Their horse was tiring, but it proudly carried them on, up a small rise toward a grove of wild green apple trees. Here a
stream found its way out of the mountains and dropped gaily toward the valley in a series of stepped waterfalls and
rapids. Pelman was sensitive to the horse's weariness and stopped. His own bottom felt weary as well. He reined in
under an apple tree and hopped off, bending to stretch and relax his legs before reaching up to lift Bronwynn down
from the saddle. They had said nothing to one another since they left the pass, and Pelman was not really inclined
toward conversation now. He pulled an apple from the tree and tossed it to her, then went to tend to the horse's needs.

As Pelman stripped the horse of its saddle to get at the Ognadzu colors and remove them, Bronwynn wandered
beneath the trees. She doffed her sandals, and tested the tall, moist grass with the soles of her feet. She was amazed at
the greenness of the greens, and wondered idly if her father had ever seen anything so beautiful as this land.

Her father. He needed to know that she was safe. "How are you taking me home?" she called to Pelman.

He put a finger to his lips to warn her to silence, then smiled. Pelman had a toothy, attractive smile. It encouraged trust
in the trusting, and suspicion in the suspicious. He walked toward her, pulling another apple from the tree. Then,
dropping full length on the grassy rug beside her, he began to munch the fruit.

"Well?" she added, more softly, but with just a touch of royal impatience.

"How-meaning in what direction, or by what means?" he asked.

"Either," Bronwynn shrugged. "Both." Pelman took another bite, then rolled over onto his back. He chewed for a