"Debra Doyle & James D. MacDonald - School of Wizardry" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doyle Debra) "Nothing much," answered the guard. "Nobody's come
through except the wizard." "The wizard? You mean Master Madoc?" The guard nodded. "Said he wanted to be gone before he wore out his welcome." Gone. Randal clenched his fists. The movement hurt; he looked down at his hands, and saw that they were covered with dirt. A trickle of blood ran out from underneath the fingernail he'd split on a rock that only existed in his dreams. You wanted an answer, he told himself. Now you've got one. Leave now, or stay forever. Your choice. II. The Road to Tarnsberg BY LATE AFTERNOON, Randal had left Doun's gray stone battlements far behind. The low sunlight turned the earthen surface of the King's Road a warm golden color as he paused for a moment and looked at the long track ahead of him. He'd left the castle before full light after dressing for his journey in sturdy boots and a plain tunic, with his warmest cloak folded up and tucked into his belt behind him. How long a journey this might be, he had no idea. The guard at the castle might not have stayed on the King's Road for very long. At Randal's left side, supported by his belt and by a leather strap over his right shoulder, hung a short swordтАФthe only weapon in Castle Doun's armory that he could honestly call his own. His father had given it to him on the day he'd left his family to train for knighthood in the household of his uncle. By now, Randal supposed, the whole castle knew that he was gone. All day long he'd half expected to hear the sound of hoofbeats on the road behind him, and had been prepared to turn and face Sir Iohan or Sir Palamon or even Lord Alyen himself, riding after him in angry pursuit. But nothing had happened, leaving Randal to wonder if his presence at Doun had been so little regarded that nobody had noticed his departure. He brooded over the possibility, but kept on walking. The air grew cooler as he trudged along. Near dark, the combined smells of wood smoke and roasting meat came to him on the evening breeze. The odor of food made his mouth water, but in spite of his appetite he didn't go directly up to the camp-fire. These days, even the King's Road harbored robbers and bandits of the worst sort. |
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