"Kim Hunter - [The Red Pavillions 03] - Scabard's Song v1.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hunter Kim - [The Red Pavillions 03] - Scabard's Song)
СYsip?Т enquired Soldier.
СFermented cactus juice,Т explained Golgath. СI wonder heТs still got a head on his shoulders, drinking that rotgut.Т
СNow,Т interrupted Wo, Сwe get to business. You know name of sword you want find?Т
СI do. Its name is Kutrama and this is its sheath, here at my side, which goes by the name of Sintra.Т
СAh, this is good. Name sword easier to find. Give me you scabbard, Soldier.Т
Wo held out his hand, but Soldier hesitated before passing over his valuable friend, the singing scabbard, who had saved him from many enemies sneaking up unseen to cut his throat. Finally he handed over the sheath with some reverence. Wo noticed this and commended it.
СWo understand. Good that you value this Sintra, who is faithful servant to her master. Good that you treat her tenderly. Now, I hold her in my hands and get from her a song . . .Т
СShe only sings to me,Т explained Soldier, Сand then only when I am being attacked unawares - and then only a wizardТs song, which no one can understЧТ He stopped in mid-word, astonished because Sintra had started singing, a low and throaty song he had never heard before.
Wo had the scabbard resting on the palms of his upward-turned hands and his eyes were closed, his face lifted to the sky. The sheathТs song was melodic and lyrical, as always, but the words were less alien than they had been before today. In fact Soldier understood one or two of them Fascinated, he could see the scabbard vibrating while she was singing. Wo seemed to be concentrating as much on this movement as on the words of the song. Eventually the song ceased and he handed back the scabbard with as much thought and care as that with which it had been given to him.
СThere is a cavern,Т said the dog-head, Сunder the Seven Peaks. In that cave is an underground sea. At the bottom of that icy sea lies Kutrama.Т
СSo?Т
СSo, you must make journey, GeneralТ
СIТve got a question for Wo,Т said Golgath. СWhy did the scabbard tell you, and not any one of us, where the sword lies? Why are you the finder-of-lost-swords? What special powers do you have over forgotten blades?Т
WoТs dog-head gave that lopsided look which passed for a smile amongst his kind.
СMy father was waylander, a sword-maker Ч and his father before him, and his mother before him, and her mother before her. My ancestors always have been waylanders, male and female, since our Seven Gods made the world out of cow dung mixed with straw. Wo has special feeling for swords and their sheaths. They speak to him, as a stone speaks to its hill, or a tree to its root-earth. They trust Wo, to find them their right masters.Т
СWhy would they trust a dog-head?Т asked Spagg, СI wouldnТt.Т
СThatТs enough,Т snapped Soldier, at Spagg. Then to Wo he said, СYou must forgive the bigot, he knows no better. Now, one last request. Will you come with me to collect what is rightfully mine?Т
WoТs head went back sharply, in surprise.
СWhat? A dog-warrior and the Soldier, to travel together on the same path?Т
СWhy not?Т asked Soldier. СPerhaps it will send a message to the humans who see us on the road. And to your own people. Why should two creatures of the same earth not travel as companions? We do not have to love one another. We do not even have to like one another. All we need to do is respect one another. Already I have enormous respect for you, Wo, and your talents. If you could find it in yourself to trust me, then I see nothing but good coming out of such a venture. What do you say?Т
СWhat about these two?Т Wo indicated Golgath and Spagg.
СThey will return to Zamerkand.Т
Spagg started to protest, but Golgath silenced him with a dark look.
СAnd what will be my reward for so to do this thing?Т
WoТs eyes widened. СAt this time we collect wild gram to make our bread. It is hard to find and much coarseness of quality. The texture of the bread is not good to the feel or to the taste. To cultivate our own corn? You would do all this for Wo, just for him to go with you?Т
СKutrama is very important to me. I need him by my side. I would not wish anything to go wrong with the finding of my blade. You are familiar with such searches. You know the geography, probably better than any Guthrumite or Carthagan. I would feel more confident with someone accompanying me who knows what he is doing. Too many times, in this world, I have bumbled through, being lucky. I no longer wish to trust to my luck. I wish to cover all eventualities and take the safe course.Т
Wo leapt to his feet, startling the horses.
СIf my chief say yes, then I say yes.Т
He was off, running like the wind, towards the mud-houses of the dog-people tribes, to speak to his chief. He came racing back on a piebald pony, yelping his head off. It seemed his chief had said yes, for whatever reason. Maybe he too thought it was time the dog-head clans and the humans got together on something. Or perhaps he was just thinking of the corn fields and the great barns, one for oats, the other for wheat.
(Who knew how a dogТs mind worked?)
СWell, you know what I think about this,Т said Spagg, packing up. СBut then nobody ever takes any notice of me.Т
СI too am not sure this is a good idea. Soldier,Т Golgath added, quietly, for SoldierТs ears only, Сbut I know you too well now to argue. What do you want me to do in the meantime?Т
СGo back and ask Velion to take charge of the army. I shall give you my token to verify the order came from me. And.I ask you to keep an eye on that evil brother of yours. Also Ч also tell my wife that I love her and will return as soon as I am able. She will understand Ч I hope.
СAlso, Golgath, can you please arrange for my promises to be met. Send carpenters to make the barns for the dog-people, and grain, and several ploughs, along with two farmers to train them in their use. Can you do that for me, please?Т
СConsider it done.Т
Golgath and Spagg packed up that morning and were on their way south before noon. Soldier and Wo set off at the same time, heading south with the other two at first, but intending to spur off to the south-west when the trail split, one way turning towards Zamerkand, the other towards the Seven Peaks. When they reached the ancient warrenerТs cave, Wo had great sport using a fishing line to catch the head of the witch the old man had told them about. For bait he put his hook into a venomous toadstool shaped like a human ear.
The witchТs head took it at the seventh rabbit hole they tried and the dog-warrior hauled her to the surface. Once back in the light, surrounded by non-magical creatures, the witchТs head went berserk, rolling this way and that, snapping with her terrible and deadly jaws, until the toadstool took its effect. The toxin did not kill her, of course, but it rendered her helpless for long enough for Wo to jam her head in the fork of a tree.
She sang songs while she was thus placed, the fungicide hallucinogens causing her to rave about tall black ships on the high seas and climbers scaling mountains of white diamond ice.
СNow you are able to see the world go by,Т said Wo, when she came round, Сyou can earn your living as a signpost and give travellers wrong directions when they refuse to feed and water you.Т
Strangely enough, she did not seem too unhappy with her new station in life, though she did remark that she felt a little vulnerable, jammed as she was in the crutch of the old oak.
СYet I still have one weapon left to me,Т she shrieked, answering her own fears. СI am still able to spit poison into the eyes of those who short-change me.Т
It was at this point in the journey that the two parties went their separate ways. Soldier and Wo struck out towards the Seven Peaks, where the Seven Gods sat and made a muddle of world affairs and the weather. Soldier found it stranger than he had expected, travelling with a dog-person. Their cultures were entirely different, their habits disgusted each other, and their bodily odours revolted one another. Yet they managed to keep open minds, both of them, and fought against their prejudices. Once or twice they felt they had to say something, though they did it without rancour.
Wo, whose grammar improved with every moment he was in SoldierТs company, proving him to be quite an intelligent beast, said to Soldier, СWhy do you wear garments} The fleece of a dead sheep and the hides of dead cattle? I could not for religious reasons, for they are coats of my brother beasts. But not only that, for being dead the coats easily become filthy within the hour Ч and yet you carry them around on your body for the rest of the day, sometimes even the next. I find that ugly and loathsome. What do you think you look like, to the rest of nature, with dead skin hanging from your head, shoulders and hips? I shall tell you, you look revolting.Т
СIt is our way,Т said Soldier, shrugging. СYou, I know, would rather freeze to death than wear clothing. Yet you never wash in water. You lick yourself clean - all over. All that sweaty muck and grime going down your throat. It makes me feel sick even to think of it.Т
Yet despite these and other very rare odd exchanges, they seemed to manage to accept one another in the main.
At least he doesnТt mark his territory like a beast of the field, thought Soldier. That would be a little too hard to take.
As they came closer to the mountains where the gods sat on their high thrones, so the fantastical side of supernature began to emerge. In this region there were giants and dwarfs, fairies and hobgoblins, sorcerers and marabouts. A flower here was not a flower elsewhere: in place of seeds or scent it might contain darts or poisonous gases. A pretty bird here might sing a song that would kill the listener stone dead. Old men were not what they seemed in this region, for they could run faster than deer and jump higher than antelope. Here winter could fall in the middle of a summerТs day as cascading, whirling ice. Winds could spring from nowhere and tear the world apart. Here a sudden deluge could flood a valley in a few seconds and yet an hour later it would be as dry and arid as a central desert. This was the land of things-that-never-were Ч yet here they were, manifest.
Deeper and deeper the two warriors ventured into the marish-land and woodlands of the warped country beyond the line of reason. A world of nightmares, in which even the dog-headed Wo found it difficult to remain sane, though he had been here many times before. Soldier had visited the region just once before and barely escaped with his life. It was no wonder they moved cautiously, prodding the ground ahead with lances, the horses spooked and ready to bolt at every sprite or wight that popped up from beneath a tuft of grass, happy to do disservice to the invaders. Daylight here was strange, the darkness even stranger. The sun threw out its beams as an oil lamp in a thick fog. The moon and stars glowed but dimly. Pools of water were viscous and stagnant. Fruit rotted on the branches of the trees. Frogs burst in a yellowy pus-spurting manner and let out a putrid stink when stepped upon by a horseТs hoof. It was a most alarming place.
| © 2025 Библиотека RealLib.org (support [a t] reallib.org) |