"Andre Norton - Darkness and Dawn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

hide. Blood fountained over both of them, then the sword was wrenched from Fors'
blood-slippery hand as the boar pulled away. It staggered out into the full sunlight and
fell heavily, the hilt of the sword protruding behind its powerful shoulder. Fors rocked
back and forth, his face twisted with pain as his fingers tried to rip the cloth away from a
nasty, freely bleeding slash down the outside of his left thigh.
Lura emerged from the bushes. There were unpleasant stains on her usually
fastidiously kept coat and she moved with an air of general satisfaction. As she passed the
boar she snarled and gave the body a raking clout with one front paw.
Fors worked his heel free from the rotten board which had clamped it and crawled
toward the Star pouch. He needed water nowтАФbut Lura would sniff that out for him. The
worst would be going lame for a while. He would be lucky if he did not have to stay
where he was for a day or two.
Lura did find water, a spring a little beyond the farmhouse. And he crawled to it
painfully. With dry twigs he kindled a fire and set a tiny pan of the clear water to boil.
Now he was ready for the worstтАФboar's tusks were notoriously dirty and deadly.
Setting his teeth he cut and tore away the cloth of his leggings until the skin around
the still oozing slash was bare. Into the bubbling water he dropped a minute portion of the
wound salve from the Star pouch. The secret of that salve belonged to the Healer of the
tribe and the Captain of the Star Men alone. It was wisdom from the old days which had
saved many lives. A wound anointed with it did not rot.
Fors let the water cool until he could just bear it and then poured more than half of it
into that ragged tear in skin and muscle. His fingers were shaking when he thrust them
into the water left in the pan, holding them there for a minute before tearing open the
packet of the bandage. With an end of the soft material he washed and dabbed delicately
along the cut. Then he smeared some of the unheated paste across it and bound a pad
tightly over it. The bleeding had almost stopped, but the wound was like a band of
stinging fire from hip socket to ankle bone. His eyes grew misty as he worked, following
the instructions which had been drilled into him since his first hunting trip.
At last he could put out the fire and lie quietly. Lura stretched out beside him and put
a velvet-gloved paw on his arm. She purred soothingly, once or twice drawing her rough
tongue across his flesh in her favorite caress. The burning in his leg eased, or else he was
growing accustomed to the torment. He stared into the sky. Pink and gold streamed
across it in wide swaths. It must be close to sundown. He would have to have shelter. But
it was a struggle to move and his leg had stiffened so that even when he got up and
clutched at bushes to pull himself along he made slow progress.
Lura went down the slope and he stumbled after her, glad that only tall grass covered
most of it. She headed for the farmyard, but he did not call her back. Lura was hunting
shelter for them both and she would find it, if any such existed.
She did bring him to the best housing they had had since they had left the Eyrie, a
stone-walled, single-roomed building. He had no idea for what purpose it had been built.
But there was only one door, no windows, and part of the roof was still in place. It could
be easily defended and it was shelter.
Already small scavengers were busy about the bodies of the pigs. And with the dark
the scent of blood would draw more formidable flesh eaters. He had not forgotten the
quarrels over the bodies of the cow and calf. So Fors pushed loose stones into a barrier
about his door and decided upon a fire. The walls would hide it from all but birds flying
overhead.
He ate sparingly of dried corn. Lura jumped the barrier and went hunting on her own,
questing through the twilight. But Fors nursed his point of fire and stared out into the
gathering darkness. Fireflies made dancing sparks under the straggling limbs of ancient