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

By the coming of the first gray predawn Sander was ready to move on. This seemed
to him a haunted land. Perhaps the unburied dead of the town brought the
oppression to his spirit. The sooner he was well away from such an ill-omened
place, the better. However, he made a quick survey of the ground where the night
before that half-seen beast had reared up in the light.
That truly had been no dream, for there were paw marks deep-set in the soil,
pads and claws in clear impression. Beyond, he discovered a single other print,
small and distinct, unmistakably human. Rhin sniffed at the tracks and again
growled. It was plain from the swing of the koyot's head that he little liked
what his own special senses reported. Another reason to be on their way.
Sander did not even wait to eat. He swung up on the riding pad, and Rhin trotted
off at a pace that soon carried them well into the tough grass of the lowlands,
parallel with the sea. The passing of the koyot stirred into life some birds,
and Sander uncoiled his sling, made ready a pebble, brought down two of those
fugitives. Once away, where he could light a fire, there would be food.
He headed directly for the distant line of forest, disliking the feeling of
nakedness that he had in the open, a sensation that, being plains bred, he had
never experienced before. As he rode, he tried to see traces of the path the
voice had taken. But, save for the tracks near his improvised camp, Sander found
nothing that would lead him to believe he and Rhin were not alone.
Resolutely, he kept from glancing back at the now-distant village. Perhaps his
visitor had returned there, since it was plain from the words they had exchanged
that the unknown had been in search of those who had despoiled the town. What
had the stranger named it? Padford. Sander repeated the word aloud. It was as
strange as the accent of the other's speech.
Sander knew so little of the land beyond the Mob's own range. That such villages
existed he had picked up from the Traders' guarded accounts. But the herdspeople
of the wide lands in the west had no personal knowledge of them. He wished now
that he had made a closer examination of the dead. It seemed to him, trying to
recall those glimpses of the bodies, that they had been unusually dark of skin,
even darker than he was himself, and that their hair had been of a uniform
black. Among his own people, who were an even brown in skin color, hair color
varied from light reddish gold to dark brown.
The Rememberers often recited queer things, that all men were not, before the
Dark Time, of the same kind. Their tales carried other unbelievable statements
also--that men could fly like birds and traveled in boats that went under the
surface of the water and not over it. So one could not believe every remnant of
supposed old knowledge they cherished.
Rhin abruptly halted, startling Sander out of his thoughts. The koyot gave a
sudden shake of body, which was his warning of danger, that he must be free of
his rider to confront something. Sander slid off as Rhin whirled about, facing
their back trail, his lips wrinkled to show his formidable fangs, the growl in
his throat rising to a snarl.
Sander thrust his sling into his belt, whipped free his thrower, making sure
there was a dart set within the firing groove. There were no stones to back them
here. They had been caught in the open.
[03]
Plain to see were two shapes humping along with a curious up and down movement,
at a speed Rhin could only equal by short bursts of determined flight. A third
figure on two legs ran behind, like a hunter urging on hounds, though the two