In the Moons of Borea Read Online Free PDF

time when the ancient but increasingly imminent threat of the CCD had drawn so many fine men together, though there had been little enough time to spare for the founding of firm friendships.
    And as time passed and they talked - or rather, as they half-shouted at each other, for they had to make themselves understood above the hum of the wind in their ears - so the terrain below changed. The trees thinned out until only the occasional pine stood up from banks of coarse grass and weeds, and finally even the last of these lone trees faded away into the distance behind them.
    By then they were heading in a mainly northerly direction, still following the twin ruts where they left their mark in grasses and soil below them, and de Marigny had noticed a degree of tension creeping into Silberhutte's voice, a tautness about him where he hung in his harness directly below the cloak and its flier.
    When the big Texan stopped talking altogether and began to pay even more attention to the ground only ten to twelve feet beneath him, de Marigny was prompted to ask: 'Is something wrong, Hank?'
    `Yes,' the Texan answered. 'They must have joined forces with a second party along the way. There are more wolves now and about nine men. That will make things more difficult for us. Also we've been flying for at least two hours. Given that we're travelling at four or five times their speed, or very nearly so, and taking into account that the woods back there must have slowed the wolf-warriors down considerably, they can't be all that far ahead. See up front there, that narrow belt of shrubs at the foot of the hills? It's my bet that — '
    He paused for a split second and froze in his harness, then cried: 'Henri, get us up — get us out of here'

4 Ambush!
    Too late de Marigny saw what Silberhutte had seen: a pair of wolf-warriors rising from behind covering clumps of grass. Between them, shaking off loose grasses and twigs which had been strewn over it to give it camouflage, a great wolf suddenly sprang erect. Not even in his wildest dreams had de Marigny ever imagined the existence of such a beast!
    With the eyes of a wolf, yellow and gleaming, and the same lolling tongue, the thing stood as tall as a pony but yet had the low-slung frame of a wolf. Indeed it was a wolf — but its head was the size of a horse's head!
    The cloak was on a course which would take the fliers immediately over the heads of the ambushers. Seeing this, de Marigny began slowly to climb, banking to one side as the cloak strained to gain height. He heard Silberhutte yell some incoherent instruction or warning, and at the same time saw the stroboscopic flash and glitter of tomahawks already twirling through the air. He saw, too, the tensing of shaggy-furred muscles as the great lean monster on the ground prepared itself to spring.
    One of the razor-honed tomahawks barely grazed de Marigny's ankle as it whistled harmlessly by. The other was inches lower, slicing something that twanged, sagged momentarily, and then snapped. De Marigny had only sufficient time to realize that both weapons had been aimed at him, not Silberhutte, before all balance was gone and the cloak began to yaw wildly. At the same time a massive snarling fury launched itself with all the force of steelspring legs, clawing at Hank Silberhutte where he swung now in only half a harness, and in another moment the cloak and its passengers were dragged swiftly down out of the air.
    Then — a kaleidoscope of action. De Marigny was privileged to witness Silberhutte's awesome speed and ferocity. He had been right about the Texan's great strength, but he would never have guessed that so large a man might be endowed with such lightning reflexes.
    For even as he struck the ground with the wolf's great paws about his shoulders, Silberhutte had sunk his wicked picklike axe into the beast's shoulder, causing it to leap back away from him with a howl of pain. One of the two Indians, rushing upon them with a spear aimed at