"Tepper, Sheri S - A Plague Of Angels - plangel4" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tepper Sherri)

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A PLAGUE OF ANGELs
389 cried out, a huge, brazen cry, and stooped from the crag where it had been
perched, wings trailing, beak screaming like a bugle in the dawn. From the shadows at either side of the precipice came answering cries, followed by the emergence of giants, huge feet thudding earthshakingly, fists like mighty boulders swinging, jaws like the prows of buttes, mighty-thewed, as twin trees that had grown for a thOUsand years. So Berkli thought.
Behind the first giants came others, and others yet. And after the giants came ogres and trolls, from large to larger to largest, shaggy head behind shaggy head, shambling figure behind shambling figure. And behind them dragons and more griffins, chimeras and Wiverns, minotaurs and manticores, rank on rank, file on file, twisting tails and shining scales, hooked wing behind hooked wing, fanged jaws and clever claws, monster after monster, pouring from the crevasses to do battle with the walkers of Ellel: creatures of legend to do battle with the soldiers of a forgotten time.
So Berkli thought, Undecided whether to be elated or frightened. If the monsters conquered the walkers, would they then turn their attention to the Place of Power? Other men seemed untroubled by this idea. They were .manning the machines at the eastern edge of the parapet, firing dOWnward ~nto the line of walkers against the wall.
Berkli stood alone, peering into the west, where he could see men on horseback coming from the forest, shields held high before them as they slowly cantered toward the wall of the Place of Power. He heard howling and yipping and bellowing from the south. From the east came battle cries, some voiced by Anemisians, the others, presumably, by the ganger army he had been told was there, warbling war cries, inexplicably howling something about a cat.

The walkers along the western wall saw the Heroes as they came from the forest, shining in the ensanguined dawn like creatures carved from ruby, their SWords and shields polished to a uniform glitter, their helms gleaming, the brightly caparisoned horses no less effulgent than themselves, the whole enhanced by the lowering cloud to the north that lent a dramatic and threatening quality to the scene.
Walkers knew beauty When they saw it. When they had been built, the destruction of beauty had been built into them. Many men were comforted by beauty: preserving it was natural to them. Such men were enemies of those who built the walkers. Such men were to be debased, humiliated, and stripped of anything they loved. In order to destroy beauty, the walkers had a subprogram that recognized it.
The sight of these perfect Heroes, therefore, brought the subprogram erupting through the fragile glosses, as the smell of a tethered goat brings saliva


390 Sheri S. Tepper

into a tiger's mouth. All the work done by Jark II1 and Ellel fell away as the subprogram took over the direction of a number of walkers who moved from the wall, following the glorious images as they deliberately withdrew.
Too slowly, as it happened. Two of the Heroes could not quite mitigate their practiced heroism to meet the current threat. The walkers moved like lightning. Like ~ghm~g ~hei~ ~'~', s~o4,c, ~b,~ b.~d.~ tb, mst, a.n.d the_ Heroes fell, one of them surprised by that final inexorable thrust into a high, incredulous shriek of ultimate loss. A murmur ran through the ranks of the other Heroes, a tightening, and faces already grim grew strained in their concentration. Horses walked backward slightly more quickly, keeping just out of reach, step by step into the shadow of the trees and thence more deeply into the forests. The walkers continued in pursuit.
Not all the walkers followed after. In some, the glosses wer~ more plete. In some the deep programming was better overlaid with more recent strictures. They had been ordered to protect the wall, to prevent anyone coming in or going out, so while roughly half their number followed the Heroes into the trees, the others stayed where they were, immobile, their red eyes gleaming.
After a considerable time, a new group of Heroes moved from cover to form a single rank along the forest edge and pose themselves there as their fellows had done before. These men were, if anything, more glorious than the first group, more magnificently muscled, more marvelously armed, and they increased the power of their attraction by dismounting and striking poses, arms extended, arms akimbo, kneeling with back muscles bunched and throbbing, posed as though to support the weight of the world.
Not only beauty, but power. The walkers had been built to destroy both. Some among those remaining could not resist. An additional number ot' them left the wall and followed the glorious bodies into the woods, leaving behind only a quarter of the original walkers. This was still a sufficient number to stop anyone who might attempt to enter or leave the Place of Power.
And yet again Heroes came forth, another group, this time arrayed in small ensembles standing against the trees as they sang their battle hymns, declaiming the baseness and villainy of the walkers between verses. Not only beauty and power but also flagrant opposition! Again some of the walkers pursued them, and again they withdrew. This was the last time. No further Heroes emerged from the shadows of the trees.
The walkers who were left were not concerned. Sooner or later their fellows would catch up to those who had tempted them into the woods. Walkers did not need sleep, did not need rest. Sooner or later they would come up to the horses and riders, and when they did, neither horses nor riders would go t~n living.
To the south, a similar effort at attrition was taking place, though here,


A PLAGUE OF ANGELs
391 since the original creators of the walkers had seen nothing beautiful in ani-
mals, or indeed in any facet of nature, the animals bad to use strength as walker bait. Though walkers had no emotions, they had SOmething that resembled pride, as the animals had COme to know. A direct challenge on the basis of strength could not be ignored.
Thus, when a huge bear came from the Woods and challenged them in speech, saying that it was stronger than they, the nearest walkers smiled bleak, scythe-edged smiles and went implacably after it into the canyons. When a bull moose or elk made a similar suggestion, it was similarly pursued. Walkers had no humor or sense of the ridiculous. It did not seem odd to them that large animals kept appearing with similar announcements,
walkers who had departed in pursuit did not reappear. or that
Coyote, watching from behind a stump, knew very well that these were
only early maneuvers in a battle that could be slightly delayed but never
won with such methods. The furry bodies that lay on the open ground
between the canyons and the walls spoke eloquently of that. Some of them
were his own kin. Some of them were Bear's kin. Some had been speaking
beasts. There were not enough speaking beasts in the world to trade for
these walkers.
Coyote found his sight Wavering, ducked his head to paw at his eyes. Was
this what men knew as weeping? Such foolishness. Now, when he needed
clear sight above everything.

Arakny had found Wide Mountain Mother awake and alert, and had conveyed to her the essence of what was known about walkers. Helmets must be padded around the ears, she said, for walkers were capable of a Sound that killed. Also, it was important to stay away from them, out o~' their grip. They would not be enticed from the wall by rage, which was a good thing. Many of them could be killed where they stood, if the Artemis/an warriors stayed far enough back.
"And how do we do that?" Wide Mountain Mother asked.
Arakny went down the list Abasio had given her. "Their eyes are vulnerable to a direct hit by an arrow or spear, provided there's considerable force in the blow. They'll burn, if they can be bit with SOmething clinging and inflammable. They can be SOmewhat crippled by removal of their limbs with an ax, though their hands and arms are independently motivated and they can walk on them as well as upon their legs. To cripple them Completely, all four limbs need to be removed.',
"In short," said Wide Mountain Mother, "they are extremely difficult to kill. What would happen if we merely left them to their carnage and departed this place'?"