The Ring Оf Fire. The Wolf Bell
- Автор: Мерфи Ширли Руссо
- Серия: Children Of Ynell #1
- Язык: английский
- Год: Ad Stellae Books
- Жанр: Фэнтези
Электронная книга - «The Ring Оf Fire. The Wolf Bell». Краткое содержание книги:
With the help of the wolves and the slave Jerthon, Ramad must search out the Runestone for the future good of the entire planet of Ere.
Food and blankets had been packed onto the two donkeys, and now the Children mounted two and three to a horse on the big Kubalese animals. Anchorstar, with Thorn behind to steady him, was helped up onto one of the two mares. He handed the reins of the other mare to Zephy and Meatha, and they scrambled aboard so eagerly Thorn could not help but laugh.
The little group, double-mounted, triple-mounted, children’s legs sticking nearly straight out on the broad backs, moved up over the Kubalese hills in the darkness, the horses forged quickly on and the two donkeys pulled ahead in spite of their reluctance. Tra. Hoppa, astride a broad black Kubalese mount behind a tall young man, seemed to cling like a fly. Toca, squeezed between them, could hardly be seen.
They did not stop for rest or water, but kept riding hard, forcing the horses until the animals began to blow and fight them. With the heavy burdens, the horses were easily spent, and just before dawn, they were forced to rest. There had been a little light while the moon still hung in the sky, but now it was dark indeed. They had crossed the Kubalese valley and the river Urobb and were now at the foot of the mountains. They dismounted and removed some of their harness to rub the horses down and cool them; then watered them from the trickle of brook they had been following. When dawn began to come, they could begin to see the valley stretched out behind. Thorn was withdrawn and silent, thinking of the three dark Children he had executed. He had asked of them, “Why did you have Anchorstar captive? Why was he so important that you let him live? Did you guard him at the direction of the Kubalese?”
“Not the Kubalese,” Dowilg had croaked, as if he didn’t care what he told, as if it didn’t matter any more. “Our way,” he said, staring at the others. “It was our way . . .”
“He was a leader,” Yanno said as if leader were a filthy word. “There was light around him.”
Thorn had stared at them, feeling their revulsion for Anchorstar and for himself and the Children. “Then why did you let him live?”
“We thought to make use of him,” Ejon said. “We thought we could turn his mind and make use of him against you.” He had laughed with a bitter, cold sound that had turned Thorn’s hatred to disgust.
“But why didn’t you warn the guards of our coming? You were on their side, surely.”
“Not on their side,” Yanno said. “They would use us.”
“We were to ourselves,” said Dowilg. “Before the stone came we were someplace dark, to ourselves.” He seemed unable, or unwilling, to explain that other mental state but Thorn sensed it; the feel of it came strong around him, and he understood that when the stone came, these three had awakened to a new level, where their evil became concentrated once more on the Children and Anchorstar. “But he kept us bound with his mind even in sleep,” Dowilg said with cold hate. “We were not strong enough.”
Thorn had killed them quickly and buried them in the mound.
Now he sat by the little spring, holding the reins of five resting horses, feeling sick at the memory of what he had done; but knowing he had had no choice. To kill in battle was one thing, to kill in cold blood quite another; but to turn that evil loose on Ere would have been unthinkable. When one mare raised her head, then another, he paid little attention. The animal stiffened and began to fidget and stare down into the lightening valley. Then suddenly he was on his feet, fastening harness, shouting to the others . . .
A band of Kubalese soldiers roared up the valley toward them, yelling for blood.
Children leaped up; harness was secured hastily; the horses milling and shying. Thorn shoved Children onto rearing backs; three riderless horses pulled away and went plunging up the mountain. They heard the Kubalese shout as a darkness came over them all; the soldiers were blotted out by the darkness in the sky, all was seething confusion . . .
The darkness in the sky dropped around them; then flying dark shapes landed, pawing, snorting at the other horses. Thorn lifted Children up onto winged backs now, pushed Zephy up, saw the Horses of Eresu leap into the sky seconds before the Kubalese pounded up the last slope, shouting. The abandoned horses were milling, some heading for the mountains. A winged shape landed before him; he lunged to mount, felt a hand grab him from behind and pull him back. He whirled to face the Kubalese soldier. He lashed out, his fist hardly grazing the man, drew back grabbing for his knife, was hit so hard in the head he reeled; he found some mark with his blade, jerked away and leaped wildly for the winged back . . .
The others were specks above him, Zephy’s terror for him sharp in his mind as the winged horse lifted to meet her.
They were over Ere. They were on the wind, free; the wonder of the flight obliterated the terror they had felt. The land dropped below them, lit with the coming dawn. They saw the sweep of the valley from Kubal to Urobb. The sun, lying just below the sea, sent a sharp orange light onto the outer islands of Carriol far in the distance. Back toward the mountain, Thorn could see the Kubalese riding hard, only specks now, after the escaping horses. He caught a glimpse of the two donkeys, turning off into a protected ravine. Maybe they would be missed. He touched the runestone, safe in his jerkin, and smiled across at Zephy, sensing the wonder of flight that held her, the fierce joy. He could see Tra. Hoppa farther away clinging to a dark roan, holding Toca tight. The child gripped a handful of mane and stared down in wide-eyed wonder. All of them were safe; the sweep of dozens of pairs of huge wings before him, behind him, lifting and soaring on the wind so effortlessly, held him spellbound; the sweep of land beneath him, another world so far removed from this tide of wind, made him drunk with glory.
The river Voda-Cul cut below them now, through the pale loess planes of Carriol. A deep woods lay between the white expanse and the sea, and in the loess hills themselves he could see carven clusters of dwellings, with the smaller river Somat-Cul wandering down between them toward the lush green pastures that made up most of Carriol. He could see the sparkle of cities there as the sun lifted red; and the names Blackcob and Kirkfalk and Plea came to him, though he didn’t know which was which. He knew which was the city of Fentress, there on the largest of the three islands; and that must be the ancient ruin lying on the coast south of Fentress. He peered down between the sweeping wings, mane whipping in his face and the smell of the horse he rode warm and sweet. He laid a hand on the silken neck and felt the strength beneath, and the muscles pulling in flight. He turned to look at Zephy again, though he didn’t need to see her face to know her joy; she was thinking of the stone, too. Given twice? But it has not been. And carried in a search and a questing? Have we done both, Thorn?
You gave it to me once, he answered. When we found it in the saddle. We have had a search all right. Was that a questing too?
Or is there more? she thought.
There is always more. There is a whole lifetime of questing. He did not know whether the others heard their thoughts. It didn’t matter. Carriol was there below them, a sanctuary, a place of freedom, and new beginning; and they rode on the winds above it as they had dreamed, as all of them had longed to do. He laid a hand on his horse’s neck and felt again the warmth of the strong body beneath him, saw the horse’s ears go forward as he chose a distant landing. They descended, and he felt Zephy’s longing to stay windborne forever; their two horses swept close together, playing in the wind, nipping lightly, and then settled into a long glide that, Thorn thought, would take them down over Carriol’s islands. Crouching beneath the dark wings, he could see all of Ere for a moment, the deep Bay of Pelli, the deserts beyond. It was not so large and forbidding, seen from the sky; nor would it seem so large again, ever.