"Norton, Andre - No night without stars" - читать интересную книгу автора (Andre Norton)

forerunners bore no likeness to any of the small dogs the Mob knew. Sander
dropped to one knee, steadying the dart thrower. His heart beat faster. Those
animals, whatever they might be, were agile of movement, continually twisting
and turning, yet always advancing. To sight a dart on one was almost impossible.
"Aeeeeheee!"
The cry came as sharp as the scream of a seabird, while the running figure
behind the first two flung up both arms as if urging on its furred companions.


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It was that runner who must be his target, Sander decided.
"Aeeeeheee!"
The foremost of the animals halted and rose on its haunches to stare at the
smith. A moment later its mate froze likewise. But Sander did not relax his grip
of the dart thrower. The distance, he judged, was still a fraction over what he
must have for a telling shot. Rhin's snarl was continual. The koyot was already
on the defensive, ready for attack. It would seem that Rhin judged these to be
formidable opponents.
The human companion of the pair drew level with them, so the three moved
together toward Sander and the koyot. But they no longer ran. Sander rose to his
feet, his weapon at the ready. He stared at what seemed to him one of the
strangest sights he had ever seen, for the newcomer was plainly a woman. Her
scant body covering revealed that. Like the villagers, she had very dark skin,
and her only clothing was a piece of scarlet cloth wound from armpit to knee.
Around her neck rested a massive chain of soft, handworked gold, which held
pendant a disc set with gem stones in an intricate pattern. Her dark hair had
been combed and somehow stiffened, to stand out about her face like a halo of
black. On her forehead was a tattooed design, much the same as the one Sander
himself wore. But while his was the proud badge of a smith's hammer, hers was a
whirl he could not read.
She wore boots that reached nearly to her knees, not as well-fashioned as the
leatherwork of his own people, and a belt twisted of gold and silver wire from
which hung, on hooks, a number of small bags of different colored cloth. Now she
walked proudly, as if she were one to whom others paid deference, like a
clan-mother, each hand resting on the head of one of the animals.
These were of the same breed, Sander believed, but they varied greatly in
coloring and size. One, cream-fawn in shade, was the larger. The smaller was
dark brown with black feet and tail. Their long tails lashed back and forth as
them came. It was plain, Sander was sure, that they did not have the same
confidence in his harmlessness as their mistress did, for they were ready to do
battle. Only her will kept them in check.
Some distance away she stopped, her dark eyes surveying him coolly. The animals
once more reared on their haunches to flank her, the lighter-colored one's head
now topping hers.
"Where do you go, smith?" she spoke imperiously, and at the sound of her voice,
he knew that this was his questioner of the night before.
"What matters that to you?" He was stung by her tone. What right had she to
demand any answer from him in this fashion?