"Vance, Jack - Planet of Adventure 02 - Servants of the Wankh" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vance Jack)

"We have sandblasts* on the raft. If they climbed the cliffs after dark they
might do some damage. During daylight we don't need to worry."
Ylin-Ylan's lips quivered. She spoke in an almost inaudible voice. "If I
return to Cath, I will hide in the farthest grotto of the Blue Jade garden and
never again appear. If ever I return."
Reith put his arm around her waist; she was stiff and unyielding. "Of course
you'll return, and pick up your life where it left off."
"No. Someone else may be Flower of Cath; she is welcome ... So long as she
chooses other than Ylin-Ylan for her bouquet."
The girl's pessimism puzzled Reith. Her previous trials she had borne with
stoicism; now, with fair prospects of returning home, she had become morose.
Reith heaved a deep sigh and turned away.
The Green Chasch were no more than a mile distant. Reith and Traz drew back
to attract no notice in the event that the Chasch were unaware of their
presence. The hope was soon dispelled. The Green Chasch bounded up to the base
of the butte, then, dismounting from their horses, stood looking up the cliff
face. Reith, peering over the side, counted forty of the creatures. They were
seven and eight feet tall, massive and thick-limbed, with pangolin-scales of
metallic green. Under the jut of their crania their faces were small, and, to
Reith's eyes, like the magnified visage of a feral insect. They wore leather
aprons and shoulder harness; their weapons were swords which, like all the
swords of the Tschai, seemed long and unwieldy, and these, eight and ten feet
long, even more so. Some of them armed their catapults; Reith ducked back to
avoid the flight of bolts. He looked around the butte for boulders to drop over
the side, but found none.
Certain of the Chasch rode around the butte, examining the walls. Traz ran
around the periphery, keeping watch.
All returned to the main group, where they muttered and grumbled together.
Reith thought that they showed no great zest for the business of scaling the
wall. Setting up camp, they tethered their leap-horses, thrust chunks of a dark
sticky substance into the pale maws. They built three fires, over which they
boiled chunks of the same substance they had fed the leap-horses, and at last
hulking down into toad-shaped mounds, joylessly devoured the contents of their
cauldrons. The sun dimmed behind the western haze and disappeared. Umber
twilight fell over the steppe. Anacho came away from the raft and peered down at
the Green Chasch. "Lesser Zants," he pronounced. "Notice the protuberances to
each side of the head? They are thus distinguished from the Great Zants and
other hordes. These are of no great consequence."
"They look consequential enough to me," said Reith.
Traz made a sudden motion, pointed. In one of the crevices, between two vanes
of rock, stood a tall dark shadow. "Phung!"
Reith looked through the scanscope and saw the shadow to be a Phung indeed.
From where it had come he could not guess.
It was over eight feet in height, in its soft black hat and black cloak, like
a giant grasshopper in magisterial vestments.
Reith studied the face, watching the slow working of chitinous plates around
the blunt lower section of the face. It watched the Green Chasch with brooding
detachment, though they crouched over their pots not ten yards away.
"A mad thing," whispered Traz, his eyes glittering. "Look, now it plays
tricks!"