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

the ones from over-mountain. But first I was beside Godgar, falling into talk concerning
the border war. We found we had once served in the same section of knife-edged ridges,
but at different times.

His type I knew well. They are born to war, sometimes having the spark of
leadership in them. But more often they are content to come to the horn as shield men
under a commander they respect. Such are the hard and unbreakable core of any good
force, unhappy in peace, feeling perhaps unconsciously that their reason for life vanishes
when the sword remains too long in the scabbard. He rode now as one who sniffs a scent
upon the air, glancing from side to side, marking out the country for his memory as a
scout, alert to all the tides of war.
Horvan found land to his liking and set about putting up tent shelters, though in the
valley so mild was the air that one could well lay in the open with comfort. At last I was
free to ride with Kyllan, and, avoiding mind touch here, I spoke to him of Dinzil.

I had spoken for some moments before I was aware of Kyllan’s frown. I stopped, to
look at him sharply. Then I did use the mind touch.

To discover with surprise—confusion—because I found something which at first I
could not identify and then met—for the first time in our close-knit lives—refusal to
believe!
It was a shock, for Kyllan believed that I was now one looking for shadows under an
open sun, trying to make trouble—

“No—not that!” His protest was quick as he followed my thought in turn. “But—what
do you hold against this man? Save a feeling? If he wishes us ill—how could he pass the
Symbols which seal the Valley? I do not think this place goes undefended against any who
walk cloaked in the Great Shadow.”

But how wrong he was—though we were not aware of it then.

What did I have to offer in proof of the rightness of my feeling? A look in a man’s
eyes? That feeling alone—yet such emotions were also our defenses here.
Kyllan nodded; his amazement was beginning to fade. But I closed my mind to him. I
was like a child who has trustingly set hand to a coal, admiring its light without knowing of
the danger. And then, burned, I regarded the world with newly awakened suspicion.
“I am warned,” my brother assured me. But I felt he did not think it a true warning.

That night they had a feast—although not a joyful one, since the reason for the
gathering was so grave. But they held to the bonds of high ceremony; perhaps because in
such forms there was a kind of security. I had not spoken with Kaththea as I wished; I
had waited too long, shaken after my attempt with Kyllan. Now it rested as a burden on
me that she sat beside Dinzil at the board and he smiled much upon her. She smiled or
laughed in return when he spoke.

“Are you always so silent, warrior with a stern face?”
I turned to look at Dahaun, she who can change at will to seem any fair one a man
holds in mind. Now she was raven of hair with a faint touch of rose in her ivory cheeks.
But in the sunset her hair had been copper-gold, her skin golden also. What would it be
like, I wondered, to be so many in one?