"Deborah Doyle - Circle of Magic 03 - The Wizard's Statue" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doyle Debra)

magic again, and taught me a few things, as well. And since then I've been living as a journeyman in truth,
traveling up and down the land and seeking more magic than the Schola could teach me." He looked
about the carpenter's shop. "But what about you?" he asked Nick. "Do you use any magic at all, now
that you've left the Schola?"
Nick shook his head. "I asked the Regents to put a binding spell on me," he said. "There's nothing worse
than a half-taught wizard. Better to be an honest carpenter and save myself the temptation." The street
out front was dark now, and shadows filled the corners of the shop.
"I have to get back," Randal said. "I was in the university library all day, and Lys will be wondering where
I am." Nick stood up and saw Randal to the door.
"Better be careful, Randy. Cingestoun gets rough after dark." Randal paused on the threshold, his
wizard's robes swirling around him, and looked back at his friend. "Don't worry, Nick. I'll be all right."
Nick shook his head. "This isn't Tarnsberg, remember? A black gown isn't going to keep you out of
trouble-not when you've got people here who don't know a journeyman wizard from a stable hand."
"I've been a stable hand, too, and I'm not exactly helpless," Randal pointed out. "I sat through Master
Issen's lectures on magical self-defense, just like everybody else."
"Of course you did," said Nick. "But as far as some people can see, you're still a half-grown boy, and a
shock spell won't do a bit of good after somebody's hit you over the head from behind with a club."
Randal laughed. "For what-five copper pennies and a book of spells?"
"For the boots on your feet," Nick told him. "Like you said, times have been bad, and this year isn't any
better. People are looking out for themselves."
"I know," said Randal, his laughter dying. "I told you about some of the things that are happening up
around Tattinham-the robbers and bandits-but I didn't think I'd be seeing it here on the King's Road,
right in the middle of Brecelande."
"It's everywhere," said Nick. "So don't get so involved in working out spells in your head that you forget
to keep an eye out for trouble."
"I won't" Randal promised his friend. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."
"Until tomorrow." The door of the carpenter's shop swung shut, leaving Randal alone in the dark. He
took a firmer grasp on the tall walking staff he carried and turned down the street. The waning moon
shone down on Randal as he made his way through Cingestoun's narrow alleys to the inn where he was
staying. In spite of his words to Nicolas, he wasn't particularly worried. Randal still had the strength and
quick reflexes developed by his boyhood training as a squire in his uncle's castle of Doun. Although he
would never use a sword again, as a journeyman wizard he had other defenses at his command. His mind
still dwelling on days past, he turned down Hornpipers' Street and entered the Green Bough, the inn
where he was staying. He paused in the common room, where a clear alto voice came to him over the
murmur of the crowd of patrons:
"I wish the wind would never cease, Nor waters in the flood, 'Til all my sons come home to me In earthly
flesh and blood." He waved to the performer, a slender, black- haired girl dressed in boy's clothing. She
sat on a makeshift stage at the other end of the room and played a lute as she sang. She nodded to him,
and kept on playing without losing a beat. Randal took a seat at the back of the room and listened. Lys
was a lute-player, singer, and acrobat, a native of Occitania in the far south. She made her own way as
best she could with her voice and lute. Her song done, she came across the room and took a seat by
Randal. "How did your day go?" she asked.
"Fine," he said. "The university here didn't mind a journeyman wizard poking around in their library. I
didn't find anything magical in there, but you never know with old books. But guess what? I found Nick!
He's doing just fine at a carpenter's shop. He said he'd come by here tomorrow." Lys smiled. "That's
marvelous! If he hadn't loaned me that lute of his when I was starving, I wouldn't be able to earn my living
now. I still have to sing one more time tonight-will you stay?"
"No, it's been a long day already. I think I'll go up and turn in early."
"I'll see you in the morning, then," she said.
"In the morning," Randal replied, standing up. Leaving the lute-player behind, he headed across the