"Sean Russell - The Initiate Brother 2 - Gatherer of Clouds" - читать интересную книгу автора (Russell Sean)

companions and lost in the hills. That would be a prize for a barbarian chieftain! If they had any idea that a man with
intimate knowledge of the governor’s plans wandered the hills alone, they would be searching the very clouds for him
even now.

The Komawara who advised a governor knew that he acted rashly, but the young lord who was bora and raised to the
ways of the north could not ignore a threat to his

province. It was opportunities like this that men of Seh prayed for—poems were made of such exploits, songs sung in
the Governor’s Palace and in the court of the Emperor.

The sound of falling water echoed out of the mist, how near, it was impossible to know. The barbarians’ trail suddenly
broke out of the trees and ran onto a wider path between the tall pines and cedars, their shapes barely suggested in
the fog.

Walking in the clouds, Komawara thought, and then he found himself stepping onto a wooden bridge over a narrow
stream. A small pool formed upstream and feeding that a twisting ribbon of white, falling water appeared like mist that
had acquired density and weight.

A breeze stirred his horse’s mane and began to move the surrounding fog in chaotic patterns. Out of the mist a granite
wall formed above him and the smell of horses seemed to mingle with the odors of rotting vegetation and the
indescribable smell of snow-melt.

The young lord brought his mount up sharp before her hooves drummed on the wooden planks. Would they make
camp by the water? He backed her up five paces and dropped the reins to the ground. The faint breeze pushed holes in
the mist—holes that opened like pupils for mere seconds and then swirled closed. It was like looking through a
blowing curtain: a glimpse of something, then gone.

Komawara moved back to the bridge, straining to hear above the sound of falling water. The tracks of the barbarians
became confused here and Komawara realized they had stopped to water .horses at the pool. He crossed the bridge as
silently as he could and discovered the trail leading on: there was no place to make camp.

Komawara followed the barbarians’ lead and watered his mount, drinking himself and filling his water skin. It was
growing noticeably darker now and despite the breeze moving through the mist, visibility would soon be left to one’s
imagination alone. There would no longer be a trail to follow. Komawara realized he would have to close the gap with
his quarry or lose them in the darkness.

I have to give up this hope that my companions will overtake me, he told himself, it slows me and fosters

indecision. He pressed on, leading his mount at a faster pace. The bow went back to the saddle and he kept his right
hand free for his sword; at the pace he traveled now he would be upon someone in this mist before realizing it.

The young lord found himself wishing Brother Shuyun was with him, as he had been at Denji Gorge and in the desert.
The Botahist monk did not seem to need his sight in the darkness and Komawara was sure this cloud would offer no
greater challenge than the desert night. As well as possessing uncanny hearing, Komawara suspected that Shuyun
could sense other living beings, could feel their presence. He senses chi, the young lord thought, whatever that might
mean.

Despite his imminent danger Komawara found his focus slipping. He found himself wondering about the Lady Nishima
and her cousin, Lady Kitsura Omawara. Since their arrival in Seh he had spoken with them only once, but he was left
with a strong impression. Compared to the ladies of the Capital, even the most sought after women of Seh seemed like