"Nancy Springer - Isle 03 - The Sable Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Springer Nancy)

the wolves.
Chapter Three

It began far off at firstтАФeerie, almost beautiful. To the east one would yelp, and far away to north or
west or south another would answer him. But Arundel snorted at the sound, and Trevyn felt his
fear-sweat run, for he sensed that these were cries of blood such as no animal ought to voice. With
clever ease the wolves drew closer on all sides, exulting to each other over the echoing distances of the
Forest. Trevyn could no longer hope that he was not the quarry. Arundel's quivering ears bore him out.
Tensely he rose, fingering his sword hilt. Meg piled wood on the fire, then stared soundless┬мly over the
flames. In the firelight the grinning teeth of the wolves shone spectrally bright.

"You'll not fend us off with fire, Princeling," they jeered. "We are not ordinary wolves, you know."

"So you have been telling me all day," he answered them in the Ancient Tongue. He drew his sword with
a flourish. "But even if you are gods, steel will separate your souls from your bodies quite effectively."

They laughed, yapping with open mouths and lolling tongues. "But there will be more, Princeling; always
there will Be more. We do not care if we die; blood is life to us, even



our own. And after your guts are spilled on the snow and your brains fill our bellies, what then? What
then for your muddy cow and your skinny maid and your fine war horse quaking against the stone?"

"Arundel is too old to fight," Trevyn excused him. But his heart turned to Vater, for he knew that a steed
of the elfin blood should fight to the death, no matter what his age. And Arundel, of all such steeds, to be
so filled with terror! He who had seen Hal through a hundred combats. . . .

"Trevyn," Meg whispered, "what is happening?"

"Just exchanging insults." He kept his eyes on the ring of leering eyes that shone scarlet in the firelight.
"They would like to bait me out there beyond the ledge. I'll wager you anything you like that a score of
them are up there waiting to jump me."

"Bet me a new cloak!" she demanded with comic eager┬мness. Trevyn grinned, and some of the sickness
faded from him.

"Keep some long sticks ready for torches," he told her. "When it comes to fighting, light my way as best
you can. But stay back!"

"Never fear!" she retorted.

A bit farther away sat a wolf half again larger than the rest, shining ghostly gray in a patch of moonlight.
The others yelled taunts, jumping in place as if restrained by invisible leashes, quivering and whining with
eagerness for the scuffle and the kill and the warm human blood. But the big wolf squatted at his ease. He
barked once, and the wolves froze to a silence that screamed like the silence of a bad dream. Trevyn
could not ignore the challenge in the leader's yellow eyes. He met them, and his head swirled in
nightmare, a nightmare imposed on him by an alien will.

Laueroc, its green meadows overrun, its high walls breached, the people ugly with panic. The proud