"S. M. Stirling - The Sky People" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stirling S. M)

but their foes had gained too quickly for that to seem likely. The Cloud
Mountain party had been tired from a long journey when the ambush
struck, and those who broke away had not had time to snatch up more
than their weapons, nor had they been able to build enough of a lead to
hide their trail. Now hunger gnawed at them as well as weariness, and
they had had no time to do anything but scoop up water in their hands as
they forded pools or creeks. The Wergu were fresh, with gourds of water at
their belts and dried meat in their pouches to eat as they pursued.

Then her mate, Jaran, broke the deep rhythm of his breath, sniffing
deeply.

"What is it, my love?" Deera said. "What do you scent?"

Before he could answer, she smelled it herself, and spoke: "Fire!"

The land before the dozen-strong war party was gently rolling, covered
in long green grass starred with flowers crimson and white, with copses of
trees along the occasional small streams. They passed small herds of tharg
and churr, but luckily nothing bigger, and most animals-of-fur avoided
men. Not longtooths or great-wolves or crescent-horns, but there weren't
any of those in sight, either. Then they saw the thread of smoke rising
skyward, and saw animals and fliers heading away. Men and beastmen
used fire… or it might be wildfire from a lightning strike, deadly in
grassland country if it spread.

"We go there," Deera said, pointing; the sunlight broke off the bright
bronze of her spearhead.
 She alone of their party carried metal weapons, the spear and the knife
at her belt; their trading mission to the coastal cities hadn't reached its
goal before the Wergu found them.

"That is where the streak-of-light pointed," her mate said doubtfully. "A
bad omen."

"It is a new-thing. If we go on with no new-thing, the beastmen will
crack our bones for marrow before the sun sets. If it is not a new-thing we
can use, we cannot be killed any more surely."

Their bare callused feet splashed through the creek, and they eeled
through the brush and trees on either side. Fliers exploded from the
boughs, eeeking indignantly, and a hawk pounced from the sky to harvest
them, its wings as broad as a man's spread arms.

Then the tribesmen stopped. A few moaned aloud in fear.

Deera's eyes went wide in wonder. For a long moment the thing in the
broad meadow ahead was so strange that her eyes slid away from its
shape, unable to comprehend.