"Kim Hunter - [The Red Pavillions 03] - Scabard's Song v1.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hunter Kim - [The Red Pavillions 03] - Scabard's Song)

Chapter Two

Soldier and Wo camped in a mountainside wood. The snow was thick upon the ground and the branches of the trees were heavy laden. Every once in a while there would be a soft muffled flop as a lump of snow fell from a shelf of pine branches to the ground. Fox, wolf, boar and deer tracks were everywhere. Game flourished in this region, guarded from harm as it was by the presence of the gods and the fantastical nature of the area. Not many humans ventured into the magical aura thrown out by the Seven Peaks. Humans tend to like a certain order and predictability about the world. Here there was not chaos, but natural and unnatural spontaneity. Strange things happened just like that, without any real warning, and human visitors tended to be jumpy and wary, having to expect the unexpected.
Wo lit a fire while Soldier went hunting.
Soldier came back with a hare.
СThat is the best you can do? In a place thriving with game?Т said Wo.
Soldier shrugged. СThe pigs are quick and the deer quicker. Besides, what would we two do with a whole deer or boar? Much of it would be wasted.Т
СBut a hare. Unless we hang it for two or three days it will be tough and stringy.Т
СThat worries a canine with teeth like yours?Т
Wo gave him that lopsided grin. СTrue, I can crack open the scapula of an ox with these jaws Ч but thatТs not the point. What we discuss here is your ability to hunt.Т
СIТm a soldier, not a hunter Ч donТt confuse the two.Т
СYou canТt be both?Т
Soldier grimaced. СAs my wife keeps informing me, IТm only a man and therefore can only think of or do one thing at a time. Give me a single task and IТm up to it. At the moment IТm acutely aware of being a warrior and cannot put my whole attention to the skills of hunting.Т
The hare actually made a passable stew, being a lazy fat hare in life, having lived high on the hog-grass. Soldier gave the pure white pelt to Wo, who would turn it into a sheath for a knife, or a purse for his loved one. They sat in contentment around the fire, filling their stomachs with the hot stew spiced with herbs. There is something about a camp fire in the woods, amongst the snow, that brings on a sense of well-being in some men. Soldier was one of those. White smoke drifted up through the branches of the trees and into a blackness studded with nightТs gems. The smell of burning pine branches and needles brought its own feelings of satisfaction.
At midnight some strange creatures came out of holes in the trees. Fairies of a sort, but jet black with small orange eyes that burned like tiny candle flames. Wo told Soldier they were harmless creatures, not like the fairy drots which sucked the blood of mammals. It was the smell of the smoke which had drawn them out of the trunks and they simply flew back and forth on batskin wings through the drifting sparks. Every now and again one of them would fly too low, shrivel and fall into the flames, to go up in a blue-green flare like paper soaked in saltpetre. When Soldier expressed his alarm at this, Wo told him that the creatures only lived for a night in any case, so this premature death was no great loss to the species.
СThey are the mayflies of the preternatural world,Т said Wo, his human language now well developed, revealing a very sharp intellect. СThey are here and gone in the dark hours. What does it matter, this evanescent life they have, since their souls live for eternity? We are only here to give the soul a chance to embed itself. I sometimes think it would be better if mammals like us were only fleeting creatures. No need for houses, or food, or drink, or wars. These are unimportant to a creature with a quick life.Т
СYou are sure there is something beyond life?Т
СAbsolutely. What would be the point of it all, if not?Т .
СWell, philosophers have argued over that one for millennia - I donТt want to go into it tonight.Т
They bedded down, one either side of the fire, and during the night had many more visitors. Mostly these were grey-ghosts, phantom-like beings drifting by in the darkness, but one or two startling forms came right up to the fire, turned the logs with claw, hoof or horn, sniffed the blankets of the sleeping companions, shook the dew out of their leathery wings or whip-long tails, then went on their way again without troubling the newcomers. One weird warty creature actually ate the smouldering charcoal on the edges of the fire, but for the most part they were simply curious mythagos, wandering through the primal woods of a shadowland hollow, neither here nor there. Their world was actually on the edge of dreams and would not exist at all if men simply closed their eyes and thought of nothing from dusk to dawn. These wonderland, nightmarish forms were the product of enlivened unconscious minds, projecting their flimsy shapes into an intangible landscape created by the restless patterns of sleep in the human brain.
The following morning they woke with the first rays of light, and that borderland between reality and fantasy had suddenly moved back, to a horizon far away.
They both went down to a pool to drink and their separate methods emphasised once again the differences between them: Wo lapped, Soldier sucked and drank. They were getting used to each other though.
СAre we close to our destination?Т asked Soldier, of the finder-of-lost-swords. СOr do we still have a way to go?Т
СWe are virtually there,Т replied Wo. СOver that next ridge, the one bristling with pines, is the cave of Gilchrista and Wilandow, twin dragons who guard its entrance. Within that cave is a crystal cavern and at the bottom of a deep shaft in the cavern is an underground sea. There lies your Kutrama.Т
СHow do I get past the dragons?Т
In the same tone which Soldier had used the previous evening when talking of hunting and soldiering, Wo said, СI am a finder, not a fetcher. You must devise your own way of passing the dragons. If you will recall, I have never been here myself. It is simply a place I have seen in my vision of the hiding place of your sword. You must find your own way past Gilchrista and Wilandow. I do not even know if they are hostile, but I would expect them to be, or why would they be guarding the entrance to the cave?Т
Soldier was a little put out. СAre there other treasures in the cave?Т
Again, I do not know.Т
СWell, a fine help you are.Т
СI told you, I find swords, I donТt retrieve them. I doubt the sword would let me in any case. I have seen the hands of thieves and the unworthy burst into flame when taking hold of a named sword. I have seen sword robbers shrivel to nought on touching a magical blade. Not me, Soldier. You must do your own work from now on. I am a spectator.Т
СI suppose youТre right,Т grumbled Soldier. СStill and all, I would like some assistance, unless youТre simply going to turn tail.Т
Wo looked grim. СI have a dogТs head, but not its rear end.Т
Soldier stared, bemused, then realised what had upset Wo.
СOh, that Ч itТs just an expression, turning tail. I would say it to another human being too. It isnТt meant to be taken literally.Т
Wo was mollified. СAH right then. No, I shall not turn and run. I shall accompany you as far as I am able.Т
СGood. I appreciate it.Т
They travelled that morning to the cave of the twin dragons. When they arrived at the edge of a clearing, there stood the pair, one green, one red, either side of the entrance to the under-earth. They were not leathery dragons, like the little two-legged, red-bellied green dragon who believed itself to be the offspring of Soldier. Soldier had been there at the hatching of this creature and it had imprinted itself on the lost warrior, calling him СmotherТ in its own language and following him for a while. Every so often Soldier met with his adopted child and they exchanged simple greetings, delighted to cross paths, before going their separate ways.
These two dragons had a silky sheen to their small tight scales and looked soft and dry to the touch. If dragons had royalty, these would be the princes of dragon-world. Their eyelashes were like velvet brushes, long and curving. Their claws were kept manicured by woodland dwarfs and there were none of the usual blemishes or bruises on their tails, which normal dragons were wont to lash at rocks and trees with. They had tall brows, denoting fine brains, and their ears were like glistening spearpoints: the red dragonТs pricked up, the green dragonТs bent. They were sister-brothers, these two guardians of the under-earth. Their weapons were their polished and shapely claws, and their long forked tails. There was no fire-breath in their throats, nor terrible teeth, they being herbivores with molars.
СIТll stay here,Т said Wo. СThey look gentle enough.Т
СDo they?Т muttered Soldier, taking a faggot from behind the saddle of his horse. СHave you looked at their eyes? Everything else about them is soft and warm-looking, but their eyes are like flints. IТm going to get a cold reception.Т
СAnd so you should, until you produce your credentials.Т
СWhich are?Т
СHow should I know?Т asked Wo. СThatТs up to them.Т
СOh well, here goes. Have I got my tinder box?Т
СYes, itТs there on your belt.Т
СThank you.Т
Soldier walked boldly out towards the cave entrance, over which hung a bead curtain, like those which covered the openings to the cooking tents of the Carthagans, to keep out the flies. How strange to have such furnishings out here, in the wilderness, thought Soldier. It was too domestic, in a wild land with wild ways, not to be bizarre. Then his attention was captured by the figure of a hunched old woman, a cowl over her head, sorting through a great pile of bones. She was lining up thigh bones, making what Soldier knew as a pilgrimsТ path. She took no notice of him whatsoever.