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

He turned to the great cat and tried to form a mind picture of what must be done. Slowly
he thought out each point. Twice he went through it and then Lura crouched and
withdrew into the grass.
Fors wiped sweat and rain from his forehead and started crawling in turn, edging
down into a maze of fallen bricks. They could never do it if the wind was not just right.
But fortune was favoring to that extent. He swung himself up on a ledge above the widest
gap in the broken wall and unwound from his waist the light tough cord all mountain men
carried. The weighted noose at the end was in his hand. Good, the rain had not affected it.
NowтАФ!
He whistled, the clear call of one of the Eyrie country birds. And he knew, rather than
saw, that Lura was in position and ready to move. If the wind would only holdтАФ!
Suddenly the mare tossed up her head, snorted, and stared suspiciously at a clump of
bushes. At the same time the stallion reared and thundered forth a fierce challenge. But
he was almost the full length of the valley away, and he stopped to send the rest of his
harem out of danger before he came to the mare. She wanted to follow but plainly the
hidden menace now lay between her and freedom. She whirled on two feet and pounded
back in the direction of the ruin where Fors waited. Twice she tried to go with her mates
and both times she was sent back on the opposite course.
Fors coiled his rope. He had only to wait and trust to Lura's skill. But the seconds that
he was forced to do that were very long. At last the mare, her eyes white-rimmed with
terror, burst through the gap in the masonry. Fors cast and as quickly snubbed the rope
about a girder of rusting steel protruding from the brickwork. The heart of the metal was
still sound enough to hold, even against the frantic plunges of the terrified horse. The
scream of the aroused stallion, thundering down to the rescue, shook Fors. He did not
know much about horses but he could imagine that there was danger now.
But the stallion never reached the ruin. Out of the bushes, directly at his head, leaped
Lura, leaped and raked with cruel claws. The stallion reared, trumpeting like a mad thing,
slashing out with teeth and hoofs. But Lura was only a flash of light fur covering steel
springs and she was never there when the stallion struck. Twice more she got home with
a wicked, slashing paw, before the horse gave up the battle and fled back down the
valley, following the herd. The mare cried after him. He turned, but Lura was there, and
her snarled warning sent him on again dripping blood.
Fors leaned back weakly against a pile of rubble. He had the mare all right, a rope
about her neck, a rope which would hold her in spite of all her plunges and kicks. But
here was no gentled mount already broken to ride. And how was he, with a bad leg, to
conquer the fear-maddened animal?
He made the rope fast, looking ruefully at the burns on his hands. Just now he could
not get near her. Might be well to let her become used to captivity for an hour or soтАФto
try to win herтАФBut would she ever lose her fear of Lura? That was another problem to be
solved. OnlyтАФit must be done, he could not go on in this one-legged way. He certainly
was not going to beg shelter from the Plains camp and so fall into Jarl's hands. He
believed that he could make his own way in the lowlandsтАФnow was the time to prove
that!
After a time the mare ceased to fight for freedom and stood with drooping head,
nervous shudders running along her sweat-encrusted limbs and flanks. Fors stayed where
he was but now he began to talk to her, using the same crooning tone with which he
called Lura. Then he ventured to limp a few steps closer. Her head went up and she
snorted. But he continued to talk to her, making an even monotone of his voice. At last he
was close enough to touch her rough coat and as he did so he almost jumped. Still faintly
sketched on the hide was a dab or two of fading paint! Then this was a Plainsman's mount