"Jeffrey Lord - Blade 25 - Torian Pearls." - читать интересную книгу автора (Lord Jeffery)

the many thousands of drends. Mounted messengers rode back and forth among the three columns each
day.

The Kargoi numbered about twenty-five thousand, divided almost equally among the three Peoples.
Each of the Peoples was in turn divided into five to eight clans, each with its own baudz or War Guide
and traung or Wagon Guide.

Of the twenty-five thousand, about a quarter were warriors. About half of these could be mounted on
riding drends, while the rest fought on foot or from the wagons themselves. There were also free
craftsmen and a class of laborers who were hardly better than slaves. There were women in proportion
to the men, many children, but only a few babies.

There seemed to be no old women, and the only old men were those highly skilled in some craft that did
not demand strength or swiftness. Blade thought he knew what had happened to the old people, and it
was not a pleasant thought. When the Kargoi started off in search of their new homeland, the old people
had been left behind, to drown or starve. Or perhaps the Kargoi had shown more mercy and killed them
outright?

So the Kargoi had set out in search of their new home. Each wagon was virtually a self-contained home
for twenty to thirty people. It carried tools, clothes, bedding, weapons, household shrines, everything
they'd chosen to carry away from the homes now sunk beneath the rising sea.

Practically everything else the Kargoi needed was provided by the drends. The beasts drew the wagons
and carried the mounted warriors. Their meat and milk fed everyone, from warriors down to newly
weaned infants. Their hides became clothing, harness, and a hundred other things. Their sinews became
thread, their bones and horns were tools and needles. Nothing was wasted. Even a slaughtered drend's
tail usually ended up as the tassel of some mounted herder's staff.

In short, the Kargoi seemed to have everything-except the hope of a future that would have made them
happy. They were launched on a journey into the unknown. At the end of that journey there might be a
new homeland, as good as the one they'd left. There might also be nothing but a barren desert, a
steaming, disease-ridden jungle, or a battle against a people who could sweep the Kargoi away like
children.

In spite of all this, Blade heard a good deal of laughter as he walked around the camp. But it was brittle
laughter. The Kargoi seemed to be a people who laughed because otherwise they might weep. That was
courage of a very high order, and more and more Blade began to hope he could do something important
to help them.

Blade returned to Paor's wagon as the raw colors of sunset began to spread across the sky. Again he
drank water, ignored the smell of roasting meat, and got ready to sleep on the ground.

He was just pulling the cloak over himself when Paor returned. He looked down at Blade, amusement
flickering across his face.

"You fear the clan ghosts in our wagon?" The smile took any insult out of the words.

Blade sat up. "No. The warriors of England worship the Earth Wisdom, among other things. So before a
battle or an ordeal, we sleep upon the ground, to draw upon the Earth Wisdom."