"01 - Wizard's Bane (b)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cook Rick)

"Me, Lord? But I have my work."
"I will see another is sent in your place. He must be guided and protected, do you not see?"
"But why me, Lord?"
Bal-Simba ticked off the reasons on his fingers. "First, you are here and already privy to this business. The less others know of it the better. Second, you know the way through the Wild Wood. Third, time is of the essence. This place grows increasingly dangerous. And fourth," he held up his pinky finger and his eyes twinkled, "he is in love with you."
Moira made a face. "An infatuation spell! But I am not in love with him."
"Nonetheless, he will follow at your heels like a puppy. No, you are the logical one to serve as the mother hen for our Sparrow."
"Forgive me, Lord, but I find his presence distasteful."
Bal-Simba sighed. "In this world, child, all of us must do things which are distasteful on occasion."
Moira bowed her head. "Yes, Lord." But I don't have to like it! she thought furiously.
"Very well, off with you then." He turned and gestured to Wiz. "Straight on and hurry." Wiz reeled and shook his head to clear it.
"I will need some things from the village, Lord."
"I will have someone meet you with food and your other needs at the bridge on the Forest Highway."
"Lord, cannot I at least go back to say goodbye? Just for a few minutes?"
Bal-Simba shook his head. "Too dangerous. Both for you and the villagers. No, you will have to move quickly and quietly and attract as little notice as possible."
"Yes, Lord," Moira sighed.
"Now go, girl, and quickly. I cannot shield this clearing for much longer. I will consult the Council and come to you at your destination."
Moira bowed her head. "Merry part, Lord."
"Merry meet again, Lady."
"Huh?" said Wiz groggily.
"Come on you," Moira said viciously and grabbed his hand. She jerked and Wiz staggered to his feet.
"Well, move, clumsy. Come on!" and she strode off with a lovesick Wiz stumbling along in tow.
Bal-Simba watched the ill-assorted pair disappear down the forest path. Then he sat on the rock just vacated by Wiz and turned his attention to weaving masking spells to buy the travellers as much time as he possibly could.



Two
Passage in Peril
The afternoon was as fine as the morning, warm and sunny with just a bit of a breeze to stir the leaves and cool the traveller. The birds sang and the summer flowers perfumed the air. Here and there the early blackberries showed dark on their canes.
Wiz was in no mood to appreciate any of it. Before they had gone a mile he was huffing and blowing. In two miles his T-shirt was soaked and beads of sweat were running down his face, stinging his eyes and dripping from the tip of his nose. Still Moira hurried him along the twisting path, up wooded hills and down through leafy vales, ignoring his discomfort.
Finally Wiz threw himself down on a grassy spot in a clearing.
"No more," he gasped. "I've got to rest."
"Get out of the open, you crack-brained fool!" the red-haired witch snapped. Wiz crawled to his feet, staggered a few steps and collapsed against a tree trunk.
"Sorry," he panted. "I'm just not up to this. Got to rest."
"And what do you think the League is doing meantime?" Moira scolded. "Will they stop just because you're too soft to go on?"
"League?" asked Wiz blankly.
"The ones who pursue us. Don't you listen to anything?"
"I don't hear anyone chasing us. Maybe we've lost them."
"Lost them? Lost them! What do you think this is? A game of hide-and-seek? You idiot, by the time they get close enough for us to hear it will be too late. Do you want to end up like Patrius?"
Wiz looked slightly green. "Patrius? The old man back there?"
Moira cast her eyes skyward. "Yes, Patrius. Now come on!"
But Wiz made no move. "I'm sorry," he gasped. "I can't. Go on without me. I'll be all right."
Moira glared down at him, hands on hips. "You'll be dead before nightfall."
"I'll be all right." Wiz insisted. "Just go on."
Moira softened slightly. He was a nuisance, but he was a human being and as near helpless as made no difference.
"Very well," she said, sitting down. "We rest."
Wiz leaned forward and sank his head between his knees. Moira ignored him and stared back the way they had come.
"That old man," Wiz said at last. "What killed him?"
"Magic," Moira said over her shoulder.
"No really, what killed him?"
"I told you, a spell."