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

of technicians and scientists engaged in some secret research, cut off from a world which
disappeared so quickly. But there were the Plainsmen of the wide grasslands, also free
from the taint of the beast, who had survived and now roamed with their herds.
And there might be others.
Who had started the nuclear war was unknown. Fors had once seen an old book
containing jotted fragments of messages which had come out of the air through machines
during a single horrible day. And these broken messages only babbled of the death of a
world.
But that was all the men of the mountains knew of the last war. And while they
fought ceaselessly to keep alive the old skills and learning there was so much, so very
much, they no longer understood. They had old maps with pink and green, blue and
yellow patches all carefully marked. But the pink and green, blue and yellow areas had
had no defense against fire and death from the air and so had ceased to be. Only now
could men, venturing out from their pockets of safety into the unknown, bring back bits
of knowledge which they might piece together into history.
Somewhere, within a mile or so of the trail he had chosen, Fors knew that there was a
section of pre-Blow-up road. And that might be followed by the cautious for about a
day's journey north. He had seen and handled the various trophies brought back by his
father and his father's comrades, but he had never actually traveled the old roads or
sniffed the air of the lowlands for himself. His pace quickened to a lope and he did not
even feel the steady pour of the rain which streamed across his body plastering even his
blanket to him. Lura protested with every leap she made to keep pace with him, but she
did not go back. The excitement which drew him on at such an unwary speed had spread
to the always sensitive mind of the great cat who made her way through the underbrush
with sinuous ease.
The old road was almost a disappointment when he stumbled out upon it. Once it
must have had a smooth surface, but time, disuse, and the spreading greedy force of wild
vegetation had seamed and broken it. Nevertheless it was a marvel to be examined
closely by one who had never seen such footing before. Men had ridden on it once
encased in machines. Fors knew that, he had seen pictures of such machines, but their
fashioning was now a mystery. The men of the Eyrie knew facts about them, painfully
dug out of the old books brought back from city lootings, but the materials and fuels for
their production were now beyond hope of obtaining.
Lura did not like the roadway. She tried it with a cautious paw, sniffed at the upturned
edge of a block, and went back to firm ground. But Fors stepped out on it boldly, walking
the path of the Old Ones even when it would have been easier to take to the bush. It gave
him an odd feeling of power to tread so. This stuff beneath his hide boots had been
fashioned by those of his race who had been wiser and stronger and more learned. It was
up to those of his breed to regain that lost wisdom.
"Ho, Lura!"
The cat paused at his exultant call and swung the dark brown mask of her face toward
him. Then she meowed plaintively, conveying the thought that she was being greatly
misused by this excursion into the dampness of an exceedingly unpleasant day.
She was beautiful indeed. Fors' feeling of good will and happiness grew within him as
he watched her. Since he had left the last step of the mountain trail he had felt a curious
sense of freedom and for the first time in his life he did not care about the color of his
hair or feel that he must be inferior to the others of his clan. He had all his father had
taught him well in mind, and in the pouch swinging at his side, his father's greatest secret.
He had a long bow no other youth of his age could string, a bow of his own making. His
sword was sharp and balanced to suit his hand alone. There was all the lower world