"Ann Maxwell - Concord 2 - A Dead God Dancing" - читать интересную книгу автора (Maxwell Ann)

rock. His tamanтАЩs ears flicked forward, remained in an erect fan to gather in the vagrant sound. Lhar held
his breath and thought he heard a faint melody telling of loss and wind and the beauty of a cold mauve
desert beneath an alien sun.
Long after the sound had died he waited quietly, hoping to hear more, not really believing he had
heard anything. A sudden wind enveloped the plateau. His tamanтАЩs skin rippled nervously; its long neck
stretched into the cold wind. With a snort, the taman cleared its nostril hairs of dust. Lhar looked up from
the boulder field to the distant horizon.
The horizon had disappeared.
Where land had been rose a film of dust. As he watched, sky and desert became a heaving ochre
curtain. He sensed its distant, turgid weight, power which would flay and grind all beneath it. His taman
snorted again and began a low, booming call. The hair on LharтАЩs skull stirred in primal response; if he had
not already sensed danger, he would have known its presence by the tamanтАЩs call. His mind reached out
to TтАЩMero, urgently.
*Storm coming. Bad. Any cover ahead?*
*WeтАЩre on a long incline. Might be something at the bottom.*
*Run for it. IтАЩll help Syza with the animals.*
LharтАЩs golden taman needed no urging to slide down the plateau and race through the boulders.
Every instinct in the taman demanded that it intercept the pack taman and lead them to shelter. Over the
wind and the rush of his own taman, Lhar heard a continuous rumbling. Through wind-teared eyes he
saw the pack taman hurtling toward him. SyzaтАЩs distant but still piercing whistles punctuated the thunder
of hooves.
Lhar reined his taman up sharply. There was no need to warn Syza of the danger; taman, drifs and
drifsen were in full flight toward him. He prayed to childhood gods that the harnesses held. The loss of
tools and clothes would be inconvenient. The loss of waterbags could be fatal. Lhar fought with his
plunging taman and his eyes strained to distinguish a rider in the mass of running animals. He cursed
SyzaтАЩs refusal of mindtouch and the unbending will which enforced it.
A pack taman stumbled, somersaulted, fell in a tangle of harness and flailing legs. When it tried to get
up the beast fell again, hobbled by a loop of harness. Behind the struggling animal loomed the frightened
racing herd of drifs. The drifs did not swerve; in their panic, the downed taman did not exist. A drifsen
slashed razor fangs across the lead drifs shoulder in a futile attempt to turn the herd.
The taman was doomed, and with it as many of the drifs as were killed or maimed in the pile of flesh
that would come as one drif after another was tripped and trampled. And Lhar could only watch. The
drifs would reach the taman long before he could.
A dark shape separated from the laboring drifs. A taman fully extended, head down, ropy tail lashing.
Stretched low over its driving shoulders rode Syza. In her hand a quartz knife refracted light in splintered
colors. Behind her ran the golden shadow of a drifsen. A crystal arc flashed over the harness and the
taman was free of its hobbling pack, but the animal was too dazed to get to its feet. The running drifsen
leaped on the taman and sank its claws deep into struggling flesh. With a scream of terror the taman was
on its feet and running.
Drifs poured over the pack and harness in a bellowing mass. A few went down to be trampled into
shapeless smears, but the rest of the herd survived.
With a shout Lhar released his taman and raced along a diagonal that would intercept the pack
taman. When he appeared in front of the running animals his taman gave a hoarse call, and repeated it
until the other taman followed. Lhar eased his taman toward the cleft, slowing the pace by degrees until
the animals were no longer in panic flight. Soon he heard what he had been straining to hear above the
staccato of hoovesтАФSyzaтАЩs shrill commands to her drifsen. The herd was catching up.
As was the storm. Lhar felt a sudden thickening in the air, a gritty swirl heavier than the dust stirred
by running animals. He looked back and saw the drifs just as the storm overtook them. He yanked on the
rein, forcing his taman in a wide turn. After a few instants of confusion, the baggage taman ran ahead
without their leader, spurred by their fear of the storm. After a fierce, swift battle, LharтАЩs golden taman