"Angus Wells - Exiles 01 - Exile's Children" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wells Angus)

EXILEтАЩ S CHILDREN


Angus Wells
A Bantam Spectra Book
All rights reserved. Copyright ┬й 1995 by Angus Wells Cover art copyright ┬й 1995 by Stephen YouтАЩ ll.
Library of Congress Card Catalog Number: 95-17735.
ISBN 0-553-29903-4 Published simultaneously in the Umted States and Canada
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
For Anne Lesley Groell
and Jamie Warren Youll,
With special thanks to Stephen Youll.


1


The Meeting Ground
When Morrhyn came out of the Dream Lodge the first thing he saw was a heron chased across the sky by
three hurrying crows. The ungainly fisherbird swooped and dove, its wide wings beating heavily, but the
crows were relentless in their pursuit, and as the heron reached the stand of hemlock flanking the Meeting
Ground, it squawked a protest and gave up its catch to the robbers. Morrhyn wondered if this was an
omen, and if any of the other wakanishas attending the Matakwa had observed the drama. He would
mention it later, he decided, and perhaps they would discuss its meaning; meanwhile, he had much else
to occupy his mind.
After the heat of the lodge, the early morning air struck chill on his sweated skin and he shrugged his
bearskin closer about his shoulders. The year was young yet, the New Grass Moon barely full, but the sky
promised benevolence, and when he turned to make obeisance to the MakerтАЩ s Mountain, he saw the
great peak shining brilliant in the rising sun. Perhaps that, too, was an omen; perhaps the Maker sent a
sign to balance the other. Morrhyn was unsure: lately, his dreams had left him turbulent with uncertainty.
He felt some dreadful threat approached the People, but what its nature or when it should arrive remained
mysterious. This past night, as before, he had dreamed of strange creatures all clad in shining metal, and
mounted on such beasts as defied imagining, and knew their purpose was evil. At their head rode a figure
whose armor shone sun-bright, and whose mount was huge and black with wickedly curling horns and
eyes that blazed fiery. No such folk, or such weirdling beasts, existed in all Ket-Ta-Witko, and he feared
the meaning of the dream, and prayed earnestly that it not be realized. When it came his turn to speak in
the Dream Council, he would tell all this to his fellow wakanishas and seek their advice. Perhaps others
had shared the dream: he could not decide if he hoped for that confirmation of his oneiric power or
dreaded its corroboration.
Sighing, he made his way through the sleeping lodges to the stream that crossed the Meeting Ground and
stooped to lave his face and chest. Farther down the brook he saw Rannach watering his prized stallion,
laughing with several of the other unmarried warriors. The young man stood bare-chested in the cold, and
for a moment Morrhyn envied him his youth and the overweening confidence it brought. He had never
enjoyed such confidence, but then, he had come early to his calling, recognized as a Dreamer and
claimed by old Gahyth before he had opportunity to ride out after the wild plains horses or go alone
against the bear or the lion to earn the right of the warriorтАЩ s braids. He was wakanisha: his hair hung
loose; RannachтАЩ s was tied in the braids these seven winters now.
And now the young man prepared to choose a bride. There were maidens enough amongst the lodges of
the Commacht who looked favorably on him, and their parents would welcome his bride-visit. Morrhyn
wished he would choose one of them; it should be so much simpler. But Rannach had eyes only for