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

closing their minds to the past.
 Then the remnants warred, titanic and awful force against force, blasting and
blighting. Some, such as the Green People, who abode still by laws, drew back into the
places of wilderness. And to them came others—a handful of humans of good will; others
who were the result of early experimentation by the dabblers in strange knowledge, yet
were not evil, nor had been used for evil purposes.

But all these were too few and too weak to challenge the Great Ones, drunk with
their controls of energies beyond our comprehending. So they lay very low and waited for
the storms to sweep and ebb. Some of the Dark Ones destroyed each other in those
blasting struggles. Others withdrew through Gates they had opened that led to other
times and spaces—even as that gate through which my father had come into Estcarp. But
all of their striving left behind pools of ancient evil, servants who were freed or
abandoned. It was unknown, too, whether or not they might choose to return if something
chanced to summon them.
When we first came into Escore, Kaththea had drawn upon her witch learning to save
and aid us. In so doing she had broken the false calm which had long abode here.

Things awoke and gathered, and the land was troubled, so that the Green People
believed we were on the eve of new war. But this time we must fight or be utterly ground
into powder between the millstones of the Dark.

Now came an in-gathering of all who were of the light, that we might plan against
aroused evil. Ethutur had called this Council and we sat there, a strange mixture of
peoples—or should I say, living creatures; for some in that assembly were not men at
all—neither were they beasts.
Ethutur spoke for the Green People. To his right was a Renthan, who could and did
bear men on occasion on his back, yet spoke with a voice when there was need, and
captained a band of wily fighters—and that was Shapurn. On a large rock squatted a
jewel-scaled lizard who used its front feet as hands and now fingered in its claws a cord on
which were knotted at irregular intervals silver beads, as if these were reminders of
points to be made in any discussion.
Beyond the lizard’s rock was a helmed man whose like I had seen many times, and to
his right and left sat a man and woman in stately cloaks-of-ceremony. This was Lord
Hervon, who had come from the holding Kyllan had found in the hills, the Lady
Christwitha, and his Leader-of-forces, Godgar. Then there were Kyllan and Kaththea and
Dahaun. Perched on another rock—thus giving him more presence in a company which
towered above him physically—was Farfar the Flannan, with feathered, human shaped
body, spreading bird wings, clawed feet. The Flannan was there for reasons of prestige
only, since his people lacked the concentration to be reckoned among a fighting force,
although they made good messengers.
On the other side were the newcomers. There was another bird-like form, but it had
the head of a lizard, narrow, toothed of jaw, covered with red scales which glittered in the
sun, in bright contrast to its blue-gray feathers. From time to time it spread its wings
uneasily, darting the head from side to side, eyeing the company with sharp
measurement. This was a Vrang from the Heights and Dahaun had greeted it with
ceremony as “Vorlong, the Wing Beater.”

Beyond that strange ally was more human appearing company, four of them. These
were, we had been told before their arrival, descendants of the Old Race who had fled