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

afore in lives other than this one... the woods... campfire... but that is Sualtim Fodla staring at me from the
fire!
Aye. Amid the dancing campfire, now opaque so that their white-and-yellow glare was invisible behind him,
now opalescent and wavering amid a ruddy glow, now transparent so that he was but a cloud and the flames
were completely visible behind him and through him; there stood Sualtim of Wisdom Itself.
Thin he was as ever, gaunt of face so that his skin was as aged white parchment drawn over the bone. A
band of soft doeskin two fingers in breadth circled his brow, binding his thin, straight hair the colour of June
clouds on a sunny day or the sleek coat of a red-eared white calf. On him not his robe of oak-forest green,
but the one of white, the white robe of ceremony that was the colour of the hair of his head and his
eyebrows.
The quick, bird-bright eyes stared blue at Cormac mac Art. And the gaunt old face with its lines from nostrils
to the corners of his wide mouth was drawn with anguish and... could that be fear? Sualtim?
From the flames in Connacht-Shield Woods, Sualtim spoke.
тАЬTreachery, son of Art! Get ye to the house of your father, you who are boy no longer, for itтАЩs dark treachery
stalks the rath this night.тАЭ
That was all. The image, flickered with the flicker of the fire, and grew less and less substantial. And then
Sualtim was gone.
Cormac would have fallen but for the hands of an anxious Midhir.
тАЬCormac! What is it on ye, lad? Tell me! Crom protectтАФit must be that he had injuries within from that great
bear!тАЭ
тАЬN-no,тАЭ Cormac stammered, but still he was weak and disconcerted so that he reeled as he sat, and was
held up only by the concerned grip of a weapons-compatriot.
тАЬThe boyтАФтАЭ Edar began, and interrupted himself. тАЬCormac has the look on him of a man who feels his other
lives.тАЭ Then Edar looked about, frowning, and there was confusion in his voice: тАЬSualtim?тАЭ
тАЬCormacтАФтАЭ
тАЬI... I am unharmed, Mid-Midhir.тАЭ
Cormac forced his brain to work. CuchulainтАФnever mind that: later!
Sualtim! Well he knew that the druid had been there, had spoken to himтАФyet he knew that it was not in the
flesh Sualtim had come. In a Sending, a samha, he had warned, called...
Shaking off MidhirтАЩs solicitous hands, Cormac thrust himself to his feet like a big cat. He looked about at his
companions. They were staring at him.
тАЬI have seen Sualtim. He was speaking to me. Midhir! Ye must be coming with meтАФnow, tonight. Two of the
horses we will ride; two we leave to pull the empty carts on the morrow. Edar, Roich, Bran: when day comes,
make haste. We leave ye now.тАЭ
And none gainsaid the boy-man from Eirrin who turned now to ready a pair of horses; the boy-man of
fourteen, who was suddenly a man in other than physical deeds, and to be obeyed.


Chapter Three:
Glondrath
The forest called Sciath Connaict debouched amid a sprinkling of alder and bilberry onto a fine long meadow
that flowed out green, and planted in summer to a gentle rise on the leftward flank, as one emerged from the
woods. Here Connacht defended herself. Two miles beyond the forest and this meadow lay the coast and the
western sea. Just seaward of center on this ancient plain, a mighty mound rose on what was called Magh
Glondarth: The Plain of Deeds, for in times gone by many a battle had been fought on these acres. The
sprawling mound itself bore the name lios. When it was fortified atop so that there clustered what amounted
to a warlike village or manor-estate as here, and ringed about with a strong defensive wall of earth, it became
a rath.
To ComalтАЩs son Art his king had given command of this key military post, which was both home and
holding-for-the-king. Though many called it Rath Airt, naturally enoughтАФArtтАЩs RathтАФit remained not his, but a