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

Thus did Dahaun know what lay in my mind, and she believed. Yet still did I face the
morning to come with a chill in me. For I was the one selected to ride to summon the
Krogan, and Dinzil showed no sign of leaving the Valley himself.




II
IT WAS DECIDED that the Green People, and we who were joined with them, must
pass the warn-sword through the lowlands to such allies as they might deem possible of
influencing. With Dahaun, Kyllan would ride to the Thas, that underground dwelling
people of whom we had yet caught no sight. They were of the dusk and the night, though
not one with the Shadow as far as was known. Ethutur and I would go to the Krogan,
those who made the lakes, rivers, waterways of Escore their own. It was thought that the
very sight of us from Estcarp might add to the serious meaning of our summoning.

We went forth in the early morning while Kyllan and Dahaun must wait for night and
the placing of torches as a summons in a waste place. So they watched us go. Horses we
no longer had; instead I bestrode one of Shapurn’s people and Ethutur rode Shapurn
himself. Large, a hand’s breadth larger than the cross-mountain mounts, these were,
sleek of hide of a rich, roan red, with creamy underbody. Their tails were a fluff of cream
they kept clamped tight against their haunches as they cantered, a tuft which was
matched by a similar puff on the tops of their heads, beneath which a long, red horn
slanted up and back in a graceful curve.

They wore no reins nor bridles, for they were not our servants, but rather fellow
ambassadors who were gracious enough to lend us their strength to speed our journeying.
And, with keener senses than ours, they were our scouts, alert to all dangers.
Ethutur wore the green of the Valley men, their most potent weapon, the force lash,
clipped to his belt. But I went in leather and mail of Estcarp. It seemed a heavy weight
across my shoulders, one which I had not noted for a long time. But my helm, with its
throat veil of fine chain weaving, I carried in my hand, baring my head to the soft dawn
wind.

Though it had been autumn, close to the time of frosts, when we had come to Escore,
yet it would seem that summer lingered longer here. We saw touches of yellow and red in
leaf and bush as we passed—still, the wind was softer, the chill of early morning quickly
gone.
“Be not deceived,” Ethutur said now. Though little or no emotion ever broke the
handsome perfection of his expression, yet now there was warning in his eyes. As in all
the males of his race he showed the horns, ivory-white among the curls above his
forehead. To a lesser degree he shared Dahaun’s ability to change his coloring. Now in this
early light his curls were dark, his face pale. But as the first sun reached to touch him, it
was red locks and brown skin I saw.
“Be not deceived,” he repeated. “There are traps upon traps, and the bait for some is
very fair.”

“As I have seen,” I assured him.
 Shapurn pulled a little ahead, turning from the road which led into the Valley. My
mount followed his leader without any order I knew of passing between them. At first it