"Andre Norton - Witch World - Warlock of the Witch World" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

Krogan chief for a chair-of-state.

He did not rise to greet us, and across his knees lay a spear staff similar to those his
guards carried. His hand rested ready upon it and he did not reverse the point as we
came to face him.
Ethutur drove the warn-sword point down into the soft sand earth, dropping his
hand from its hilt when it stood firmly upright.

“Orias!” he said.

The Krogan leader was much like the two who had brought us here, except that a
dark seam of some old scar ran along the side of his face from temple to jaw on the left,
drawing down a little on the eye corner, so the lid remained almost closed.
“I see you, Ethutur. Why do I see you?” His voice was thin and, in my ears, toneless.

“Because of this—” Ethutur’s fingers just touched the hilt of the warn-sword. “We
would talk.”

“Of a carrying of spears, and a beating of drums, and a killing,” the Krogan
interrupted him. “Stirred up by outlanders . . .” Now he turned his head so that he
surveyed me squarely with his good eye. “They have awakened that which slept, these
outlanders. Why do you take up their cause, Ethutur? Have you not past hard-won
victories to nurse for your kind?”
“Victories won long ago do not mean that a man may hang his weapons to rust in the
roof tree and never have need to draw them again,” returned Ethutur levelly. “There are
forces astir—no matter how awakened. The day draws near when men must hear the
beating of the drums whether or no they would thrust fingers in their ears against such
summoning. The men of the Heights, the Vrong, the Renthan, the Flamman, we of the
Green Silences, those from overmountain, drink brother-drink now and close ranks. For
in union we have a chance. While such begins to stir as promises no safety in sky, on
land—” he paused and then added, “—or in water!”
“No one picks up the warn-sword in haste.” I thought Orias used words to cloak
thoughts. I did not try mind touch; it promised danger. The Krogan continued, “Nor does
one man’s answer cover that for all the water folk. We take counsel. You are free to
remain on the visitor’s isle.”
Ethutur bowed his head. But he did not touch the sword, leaving it point-planted
where it was. Back they took us through the plume wood and into the boat, drawing us to
another island. Here was vegetation, but that of normal growth. There was a paved space
of rock slabs and a hollow for a fire, with a pile of drift nearby. Ethutur and I brought out
our supplies and ate. Afterward I wandered back to the shore and stared across at that
silvery island. But the haze which might be born of some wizardry blurred its details. I
believed I saw Krogan come out of the lake and return into it. But no one came near our
island, or, if they did, we were not aware of it.

Ethutur would make no guess as to how Orias’ council would decide. Several times he
remarked that the Krogan were a law unto themselves, and, as Dinzil had warned, could
not be influenced by outsiders. When he mentioned Dinzil my forebodings, which I had
managed to push into the back of my mind, awoke. Deliberately I set about learning what
I could concerning the war leader from the Heights.
 He was of the Old Race, truly human as far as the Green People knew. His reputation