"Andre Norton - Brother To Shadows" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

his arm, his hand, would not obey his will. However, he felt it against his body, within
the windings of the wide girdle its presence even through the folds of his thick clothing.

He began determinedly to Draw-to-one, Self-warrior-heart, Mind-of-seeker, so slipped
into the innerways of the one who hunted in a strange and forbidden territoryтАФeven
though that lay within himself. But for all his searching he found no trail, and he came
out of that half trance stiff with chill, the pressure of the find still against him, knowing
that he had done the best he could to arm himself against the unknownтАФnow he could
only face what would come.

The Kag beat wings to which snow clung and was flung forth again. It circled twice the
ruins below but it no longer screeched nor attempted to descend. At length it broke the
last circle and headed out through the night, winging its way north, away from Qaw-en-
itter. Morning broke while it still flew, yet it did not perch to rest. It was nightfall again
when it circled another campтАФthough this a much larger oneтАФand settled on the top of
the empty cage.
A wrinkled hand and scrawny wrist was offered and the creature hopped onto that so that
it was borne up to face eye level again the skull-sharp visage of the Shagga.

"SooooтАФ" the priest hissed at last. "He dares to meddle!" He considered the situation,
weighing one thing against another. Tradition was strong; in spite of his hatred it bound
him in some ways. None of the Brothers would move against one of issha training unless
he had been denounced openly in a gathering of Lair Masters and the accused allowed
speech in his or her own behalf. There was no knife or rope which could be dispatched
openly against this four times damned off-worlderтАФnot yet. But he must be watchedтАФ
assuredly he must be watched.

As he thought he fed the Kag from a handful of wine-soaked herbs and put the now
drowsy creature back in its cage. There was a second cage among the priest's baggage. As
he approached that he looked up at the sky. Mountains would make no difference for his
swift messenger and that one would reach the port city well ahead of that traveler he
longed to break now with his bare hands.

He opened the cage and a farflyer pecked at his finger once and then came forth as the
priest shrilled a summons. Again the priest and winged thing met in silent communication
and then, with a practiced twist of the wrist, the man sent it up and out to complete its
mission.




THE MAN CROSSED THE ROOM WITH A CURIOUSLY effortless ease, a gait akin,
as an imaginative viewer might think, to the progress of a fish through water. His tunic
and breeches were of a lusterless, sober brown, though discreet front latches showed the
glint of red gold, and the buckle of his purse belt was set with small gems which would
betray their perfection only to a knowledgeable eye.

He was known in several sections of both the old city and that quick growth which
fringed the spaceport as one Ras Zarn, a merchant from the far north, of middle rank, a
good bargainer, one who paid all obligations promptly and fully. In two other places he