"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
gate had told him which way Madoc had gone, but the wizard
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.