Книга только для ознакомления
. "It's that damned song,"
he muttered. "Crude and folkish, but the tune sticks in the
mind."
Actually, it was the words which stuck in his mind. He
found himself singing, half-unwillingly:
THE STAG LED ON FROM NIGHT TO DAWN,
FROM SUNRISE INTO MORN,
AND IN THE SHADE OF SHADOW GLADE
BETRAYED THE UNICORN.
SHE SPOKE TO HIM; HER VOICE WAS GRIM:
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE FOR PRIDE?
YOU KNOW AND SEE YOUR DESTINY
AND YET YOU TURN ASIDE.
YOU WOULD BETRAY ME TO MY DEATH
AND QUITE FORSAKE YOUR VOW?
THEN SERVICE LENT WITHOUT CONSENT
IS ALL YOU DO ME NOW."
SHE TOUCHED HIM ONCE, SHE TOUCHED HIM TWICE,
AND THREE TIMES WITH HER HORN;
AND THERE HE FELL, AND WHERE HE FELL,
HE ROSE A UNICORN.
He heard reptilian muttering behind him and stopped
singing. If those behind him were truly to kill the
Forestmaster, all music here - perhaps, eventually, all the
music in the world - would cease, and all for the stag's petty
revenge.
A winged shadow drifted overhead. He ducked
automatically, but it was only one of the pegasi, cir cling
and diving above the wood.
The stag could picture something larger, something
with wings like the draconians', stooping onto the pegasi
|
