Brian Lumley [Titus Crow 05] In the Moons of Borea (epub) id

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.IN THE MOONS OF BOREAFor the 'Old Folks' at No.25PART ONE : BOREA1 Paths of FateThey skirted the forest on foot, the Titan bears shambling along behind on all fours, their packs piled high so that there was no room for the men to ride.Only three of the animals went unburdened, and these were hardly bears for riding.A stranger party could scarce be imagined.Here were bronze Indians straight out of Earth's Old West, squat, powerful Eskimos from the Motherworld's perpetually frozen north, great white bears half as big again as those of the Arctic Circle, and a tall, ruggedly handsome, leather-clad white man whose open, short-sleeved jacket showed a broad, deep chest and arms that forewarned of massive strength.To the oddly polyglot party that followed Hank Silberhutte, their Warlord seemed utterly enigmatic.He was a strange, strange man: the toast of the entire plateau and master of all its might, mate to Armandra the Priestess.and father of her man-child, destroyer of Ithaqua's armies and crippler — however briefly — of Ithaqua himself.And yet he mingled with his minions like a common man and led them out upon peaceful pursuits as surely as he led them in battle.Yes, a strange man indeed, and Ithaqua must surely rue the day he brought him to Borea.Silberhutte the Texan had been Warlord for three years now, since the time he deposed Northan in a savage fight to win Armandra.He had won her, and with her the total command of the plateau's army.That had been before the War of the Winds, when the plateau's might had prevailed over the bludgeoning assault of Ithaqua's tribes, when Ithaqua himself had been sorely wounded by this man from the Motherworld.Mighty wrestler, fighter who could knock even a strong man senseless with a blow of his huge fist, weapons' master whose skill had quickly surpassed that of his instructors, telepath (though the plateau's simpler folk could not truly understand the concept) who could throw — had thrown — mental insults at Ithaqua, the Wind-Walker, and yet walk away unscathed: Silberhutte was all of these things.He was as gentle as his strength and size would allow; he instinctively understood the needs of his people; when lesser men approached him in awe, he greeted them as friends, equals; he respected the Elders and was guided by their counselling, and his fairness was already as much a legend as his great strength.When he could by right have slain Northan, his hated, bullying Warlord predecessor — when nine-tenths of the plateau's peoples had wanted Northan dead — Hank Silberhutte had let him live, had given him his life.Later, when Northan turned traitor, siding with Ithaqua and his ice-priests to help them wage war against the plateau, Kota'na the Keeper of the Bears had taken that life, had taken Northan's head too; and even though he was wounded in the fighting, Kota'na would not give up his grisly trophy to any man but his Lord Silberhutte.And it was Kota'na who came now at an easy lope through the long grass toward where Silberhutte stood, Kota'na, whose proud Indian head was lifted high, eyes alert as those of any creature of the wild.He had scouted out the ground ahead, as two other braves even now scouted it to the rear; for though they were well clear of the territories of the Wind-Walker's tribes, still they were wary of skulking war parties.The Children of the Winds did not usually wander far afield when Ithaqua left them to go striding among the star-voids, but one could never be sure.That was why three of the bears were not in harness; they were fighters, white monsters whose loyalty to their masters was matched only by their ferocity when confronted with their enemies.Now they were nervous, and Hank Silberhutte had noted their anxious snufflings and growlings.He noted too Kota'na's uneasiness as the handsome brave approached him.The Indian kept glancing toward the dark green shadows of the forest, his eyes narrowing as they sought to penetrate the darker patches of shade.Borea had no 'night' as such, only a permanent half-light, whereby shaded places were invariably very gloomy.`What's bothering you, bear-brother?' Hank asked, his keen eyes searching the other's face.`The same thing that bothers the bears, Lord Sil-ber-hutte,' the Indian answered.'Perhaps it is just that Ithaqua's time draws nearer, when he returns to Borea.,' he shrugged [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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