"02 - The Wizardry Compiled (b)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cook Rick)

Wiz sighed. "No, you better go ahead and eat. You know how this works."
"I know," she said softly.
-=O=-***-=O=-
The man in the blue wizard's robe looked around carefully before stepping into the clearing. A lesser man might have shivered, but he was of the Mighty and he knew well how to hold his emotions in check.
There was no sign of life or movement in the open space. The summer grasses lay pristine and untrampled. Here and there small red and yellow flowers nodded above them. The trees surrounding the clearing rustled and sighed as the breeze played through their tops. The air at ground level was still and smelled of leaves and sun-warmed grass.
The blue-robed man knew better than to trust ordinary senses. This was the time and the place appointed for the meeting and his higher senses told him magic of a lofty order lurked in that glade.
It is for the good of the entire World, he told himself firmly.
Still, if any of his fellow wizards found out . . .
Little enough chance of that. No one kept watch on the Mighty and with the Dark League defeated, watch of all sorts was lax in the North.
Even so, he had taken good care that the others would not find out. He had traveled the Wizard's Way only part of the distance to this place and come the final league on foot. He left the Capital with a plausible story about a real errand near here, an errand he had accomplished. If no one inquired too closely into these few hours, there was no way they could find out where he had gone or what he had done. If the other had taken similar precautions, they were both safe.
In the center of the clearing he stopped, extended his staff and traced a design in the air. The sigil glowed bright red and then began to fade imperceptibly toward crimson.
"Welcome magician," a voice hissed out behind him. Whirling, he saw the person he had come to meet.
The man was almost as tall as the blue-robed wizard and cadaverously lean. His skull was shaven, but showed black stubble from lack of recent attention. A wizard's staff was clasped firmly in his right hand. But most striking was his clothing.
In contrast to the blue of the first wizard's robe, the other wore the black robe of a wizard of the Dark League.
Wiz Zumwalt plopped down in the carved oak chair, poured a cup of wine from the carafe on the inlaid table and sighed deeply.
Bal-Simba looked up from the corner of the Wizards' Day Room where he was studying a scroll. "I take it it did not go well?" the giant black wizard asked mildly.
"You might say that." Wiz took a pull on the cup. Then he snorted with laughter.
"May I ask what is so funny?"
Wiz shook his head. "I was just thinking. Two years ago today I was being chased through the Wild Wood by trolls, bandits, Dire Beasts and the sorcerers of the Dark League."
"I remember."
"Now here I am, safe in the Capital of the North, the Dark League is in ruins and," he gestured mock grandly, "I'm supposed to be the greatest magician in the whole World."
"Your point, Sparrow?" Bal-Simba rumbled.
Wiz sighed deeply. "Just that right about now trolls, bandits and evil sorcerers look awfully good."
-=O=-***-=O=-
"I am Seklos," the black-robed one said. "I speak for the Dark League."
"Where is your master?" the northern wizard demanded
"He isЧindisposed," Seklos said. "I serve as his deputy with full authority to act in this matter."
The first one nodded. Since the great battle between the Sparrow and the Dark League, the conclave of sorcerers had been reduced to a pitiful few remnants. Their City of Night on the southern continent lay ruined and deserted and the black-robed ones who had once threatened to engulf the entire North were fugitives everywhere. The leaders of the Dark League, including Toth Set Ra, their chief, had died in the battle and the new leader was much less powerful. There were also disturbing rumors about him. The northern wizard was not surprised he had sent a deputy.
He advanced a step and then stopped. Crouching watchfully next to the wizard was a Shadow Warrior in the tight-fitting black of his kind. A slashing sword hung down his back and his eyes were hard and merciless through the slits in his hood.
"Foolish to bring such to a wizards meeting," the blue-robed wizard said.
The other shrugged. "It seemed a simple enough precaution."
"We meet under a sign of truce. You need fear nothing from me so long as the sign glows."
Seklos regarded him with amused contempt. "I know the usage. But we did not come here to discuss custom. What is your proposal?"
"My proposal?"
"The sign changes color," the wizard pointed at the glowing character, which was now definitely orange. "Let us not waste time."
He hesitated, thrown off his carefully prepared approach. "Very well. It concerns the Sparrow, this Wiz."
"Ahhh," said Seklos in a way that made the other think that he had known very well what the subject would be.
-=O=-***-=O=-
"You mean you are notЧwhat was that phrase you used?Ч'living happily ever after'?" Bal-Simba smiled gently. "Few people do, Sparrow."
"Yeah, I know, but I didn't expect it would be anything like what it's turned out to be. I thought I'd be able to finish my magic compiler and teach a few people how to use it. Then I could go on to more advanced magic programs."
Bal-Simba nodded. More than most of this world's wizards, he understood that Wiz's magical power came not from innate talentЧWiz had no talent for magic in the conventional sense. Rather, his abilities rested on his discovery that it was possible to write a magic "language," like the computer languages he had used back in Silicon Valley. Wiz might be spectacularly untalented as a magician, but where computers were concerned he was about as talented as they come.
Wiz shook his head. "1 never saw myself sitting in meetings or in a classroom, trying to pound programming into a bunch of apprentices."
"Power makes its own demands, Sparrow," Bal-Simba said gently, laying the scroll aside. "Your new magic makes you powerful indeed."
"You know this Sparrow," the northern wizard hissed. "You know his power. He broke you utterly in a single day."
"And you are cast down from your former high estate in the North," the black robe retorted. "Do you wish our aid in restoring you? A trifle chancy, I fear. As you say, we are not so great as we once were."
"I desire no such thing," the blue robe said with dignity.
"Oh, the presidency of the Council then? To replace Bal-Simba?"
"I desire what we of the north have always sought. Balance, the preservation of the World."
"I fear your Sparrow is proving as dangerous to your precious balance as ever he did to our League," Seklos said. "Well, what did you expect when you Summoned someone so powerful?"
"We did not agree to the Summoning," the other said testily. "That was Patrius's idea and he did not share it with the Council. And as for danger, he went on fiercely, "he is a greater danger than you know. With his outlandish magic he upsets the very balance of the World. Mortals attract attention from those who have ignored us ere now. They are likely to act against us, Council and League both."