Books In English "City Of Illusions" Ursula K. Le Guin | Page 37
suffered more than mere discomfort from the cold. The north wind blew so
unwearyingly bitter that he tended always to be pushed a little southwards
by it, picking the way south of west when there was a choice, rather than
face into the wind.
In the dark wretched afternoon of one day of sleet and rain he came
slogging down a south-trending stream-valley, struggling through thick
brambly undergrowth over rocky, muddy ground. All at once the brush
thinned out, and he was brought to a sudden halt. Before him lay a great
river, dully shining, peppered with rain. Rainy mist half obscured the low
farther bank. He was awed by the breadth, the majesty of this great silent
westward drive of dark water under the low sky. At first he thought it must
be the Inland River, one of the few landmarks of the inner continent
known by rumor to the eastern Forest Houses; but that was said to run
south marking the western edge of the kingdom of the trees. Surely it was
a tributary of the Inland River, then. He followed it, for that reason, and
because it kept him out of the high hills and provided both water and good
hunting; moreover it was pleasant to have, sometimes, a sandy shore for a
path, with the open sky overhead instead of the everlasting leafless
darkness of branches. S o following the river he went west by south
through a rolling land of woods, all cold and still and colorless in the grip
of winter.
One of these many mornings by the river he shot a wild hen, so
common here in their squawking, low-flying flocks that they provided his
staple meat. He had only winged the hen and it was not dead when he
picked it up. It beat its wings and cried in its piercing bird-voice,
"Take—life—take—life—take—" Then he wrung its neck.
The words rang in his mind and would not be silenced. Last time a
beast had spoken to him he had been on the threshold of the house of Fear.
Somewhere in these lonesome gray hills there were, or had been, men: a
group in hiding like Argerd's household, or savage Wanderers who would
kill him when they saw his alien eyes, or toolmen who would take him to
their Lords as a prisoner or slave. Though at the end of it all he might have
to face those Lords, he would find his own way to them, in his own time,
and alone. Trust no one, avoid men! He knew his lesson now. Very warily
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