"Sheri S. Tepper - The True Game 1 - King's Blood Four" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tepper Sherri)

for us.
I wondered as we lay there how many thousands of pawns-and lesser Gamesmen, too-had died thus, lying
helpless under stones or trees or in their houses while Gamesmen drew their heat away, slow degree by
slow degree, until they fell into that last sleep. We had seen bones here and there as we traveled, littering
the roadside, heaped around the ruins where Silkhands had been, all those who had stayed quiet and cold
while Gamesmen played. Even so, it was a wondrous thing to watch the Dragon and the Cold Drake
fight. The cine was all sinuous movement, twisting coil, black on black with frosty breath; the other all
arrow darting, climb and dive, amber on gold with the breath of fire. As it grew colder around us, it grew
more difficult for the Gamesmen to draw heat as well, and their movement slowed. We kept expecting
them to move away, over the sunwarmed plains, but they did not. We knew then that they dueled, that
they had set the boundaries of their Game and would not leave them until one or both were dead.
The end came as suddenly as the beginning. The Cold Drake caught the Dragon full in a looping coil
which tightened, tightened. The Dragon screamed. They fell together, linked, faster and faster, wings
unmoving, a blur in the clear air. Then they were upon the plain before us, lost in a stirred cloud of frigid
dust which erupted into the wind and was gone. The Healer sobbed and moved into the open, stumbling
toward those distant bodies, we after her. She paused at one body only a moment, then went on to the

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 KING'S BLOOD FOUR - Sheri S. Tepper

other. He breathed feebly, back in his own form, a slender youth looking scarcely older than I, pale of
skin with black hair and the long ears of the southern people.
He tried to focus his agonized gaze upon the Healer, said "HealerтАжpleaseтАж" Silkhands reached out as
though to touch him then turned away.
"Too cold, " she said. "Oh, there is nothing to make into a fire. If we could have fire swiftlyтАж" We all
looked around, but there was nothing to burn upon the hard-packed earth. The youth gave a bubbling cry
and was silent. I turned to find Silkhands weeping.
"Too cold, always too cold and I can do nothing. No power, no way to get power. Oh, Lords of the seven
hells, but I wish you were a TragamorтАж" She sobbed upon Chance's chest like a child. Looking toward
the far line of forest I, too, wished I were a Tragamor, though with the cold as it was I doubted even a
Tragamor could have ported wood from that forest in time. My eyes caught a glitter there; we all stared at
the procession which came. It was not lengthy but puissant, the tall figure on the high red horse most of
all. I knew him by the fur-collared robe embroidered with moonstar signs, even before Silkhands sank to
her knees murmuring,
"The Wizard Himaggery. " My eyes did not stay long on the Wizard, for behind him rode one whose face
I well remembered, that pawner from the Gathered Waters who had sought me, followed me. Well, I
thought, run as we might he had found me. Blood gathered behind my eyes and I launched myself at him,
shouting.
The next thing I knew I was on the ground with two men sitting on me. There had been a sudden burst of
heat from someone in the train, a Sorcerer most like. The Elators sitting on me had not needed it,
however. They had needed only their own strength and my clumsiness. The Wizard sounded amused.
"And what occasions this animosity, my good pawner? Is this the one you have been telling me about?"
There was a mumbled reply before the Wizard spoke again. "Let him up, but keep your eyes on him. This
is no time nor place to sort out such matters. We must look upon the bodies of our foolish young. " And
with that he rode forward, almost over me where I struggled with the Elators, unwilling to give up. He
stopped by the youth's body and spoke to Silkhands. A Sorcerer rode but of the train and offered her his
hand so that she might draw upon his stored power if she would. She shook her head. Too late. The
Wizard turned his mount and came toward us again.
"Oh, stop squirming, boy. You will not be dealt with unfairly, " and rode away toward the forest. There
were extra horses, evidently brought in the hope the duelers could ride home. Chance and Silkhands had