"Andrew J. Offutt - Cormac 01 - The Mists of Doom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Offutt Andrew J)

Midhir hastily returned to his bragging on Cormac, for none among them wished to give ear to a druidish
lecture on the druidтАЩs deadly enemies. Was the biggest bear ever heтАЩd set the gaze of eyes on, Midhir mac
Fionn avowed, and the more courageous Cormac was in bracing the brute single-handedly.
тАЬI was after trying to brace him double-handedly,тАЭ the young man said, rather shyly amid the praise, тАЬbut he
made such an objection to my sword that I threw it away!тАЭ
Again there was hale laughter, and a chuckling Midhir said, тАЬNever would I be saying that it was a foolhardy
act, son of Art!тАЭ
тАЬOh, never, тАЬBran cried, and they laughed anew, while the beat of their hearts slowed and the prickle faded
slowly from their armpits and the tremors commenced to quit their hands.
тАЬAdmittedly,тАЭ Midhir said, half strangling on his chuckles, тАЬhad the subject ever arisen whilst we were at your
training at arms, Cormac, IтАЩd have been advising ye not to attack a bear taller than two men and outweighing
four!тАЭ
тАЬA... bear,тАЭ Edar murmured slowly, and his frown chased their laughter.
Blinking, thoughtful, the servant of Behl and Crom frowned about at the darkling woods. тАЬBears have not been
seen in these forests for years, for here no caves lie near, to house them as they like it. Even soтАФwere a bit
early for one to be up and abroad after his winterтАЩs snooze...тАЭ
Edar looked at Cormac, and still his brow was creased and furrowed. The others were silent, stilling even their
breath. The druid had spoke naught but the truth, and now it was called to mind, neither the bearтАЩs attack nor
even its presence seemed... natural.
тАЬIt is an omen, son of Art,тАЭ the druid said, and his stressing the name of CormacтАЩs father reminded them all
that art in their tongue meant no less than тАЬbearтАЭ even as it did over in Pretene or Britain, where one Uther
had so named his son.
They sat unspeaking, impressed to the viscera, and only after several minutes did Roich break the silence
with an enthusiasm born of nervousness.
тАЬItтАЩs no son of this bear Cormac is!тАЭ
тАЬThough he will soon have a great enveloping winterтАЩs cloak of its hide,тАЭ Midhir said. тАЬI and Aevgrine will soon
be seeing to that.тАЭ
But the youth looked dark with the shadow of thought on him.
тАЬOmen?тАЭ he said. тАЬAn omen, Druid Edar? And... see ye it as good or foreboding, Lord Druid?тАЭ
Edar but shook his bronze-locked head. тАЬThis Behl does not reveal, nor does the Druid-sight that allows us
occasionally to glimpse the time-to-come. Though in truth it is by night the beast came upon us, while Behl
is absent from the sky and only the cold moon watches...тАЭ
Was then Midhir went again to the horses, which were still hardly calm, while Roich and Bran attacked the
gloom by commencing the comparison of Cormac with the mighty hero Cuchulain in his strength and in his
courage. Too high were the spirits of all to be affected darkly this night by the druidтАЩs words. Cormac beamed,
seeming to glow from deep within him, and his unease passed. Nevertheless he kept his stare fixed on the
fire, pretending to ignore his exuberant companions and their high compliments. They were after all men in
liege to his father...
Midhir returned to the fire. тАЬHere, Cuchulain Bearslayer, this night itтАЩs the championтАЩs portion for yourself,тАЭ he
said warmly, bringing forth a dripping gobbet of meat larger than his hand.
The flames commanded CormacтАЩs eyes, and his gaze was as if trapped by the dancing tongues and
feather-shapes of yellow and orange, crimson and white...
The championтАЩs portion... Cu-Chulain... the Hound of Chulan... Cuchulain of Muirthemne...
тАФand then Cormac mac Art was oblivious of the proffered meat, and the voices of these his companions, for
he was no longer with them...
He stood in a fine shining chariot drawn by two horses with the spirit of spring breezes and springs. Mourning
was on him for his driver just slain, his long-time driver and old friend Laeg, and he hurled again his spear of
victory into the ranks of the gathered enemy, and its gleaming bronze point drove through a man so that he
died and him behind that one was hurled backward by the pointтАЩs bursting through the first and nigh entering
his belly.