"doyle, deborah - mcdonald, james d - circle of magic 04 - danger in the palace" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doyle Debra)

The first magic Randal had ever seen had been just such
a display of sound and light. But Madoc
the Wayfarer, the wizard who had performed those wonders
in the great hall of Castle Doun, had been a
master of the magical art and not a mere journeyman.
Randal himself had spent the past few months in
acquiring, by trial and error, the fine control that
produced a particular sound or color without
accident every time.
Some days the magic had worked well, while on other
days Randal's efforts had brought him more
embarrassment than success. But as traveling
entertainers went, he and Lys had prospered they'd
always had enough money to buy food, and here in the
southland, where nights were warm and dry, they slept in
the open and seldom needed to pay for lodging.
As Lys's song came to an end, Randal ended the
sounds and the cloud of colored light. He looked
down at the cap and found it empty.
I don't understand,
he thought, feeling at once puzzled and disappointed.
I've had the spells working right for weeks now, and
Lys doesn't even need magic to sound good. We
should have gotten one or two pennies at least from this
crowd.
Instead, only thin applause came from the small-and
rapidly dwindling-audience. Randal sighed and reached
out to pick up the empty cap. His fingers had just
touched the brim when a small bag of black
velvet sailed through the air and landed in the cap with a
metallic
chink.
Randal picked up the bag. It felt heavy in his
hand, and the contents shifted and clinked inside it.
Carefully he undid the silver cord of the
drawstring
and pulled the bag open. His sudden hopes were not
dashed. The bag contained gold coins-more money than
he'd seen in one place since leaving his
uncle's castle to study wizardry.
Randal closed the bag and slid it into the deep
pocket of his robe, next to his spell-book.
Then he looked to see who had made the donation. The
young wizard's gaze traveled upward from a man's
high leather boots, to a short tunic of black
velvet trimmed in silver, to a clean-shaven,
intelligent face framed by bright red hair. At his
waist, the stranger wore a long, narrow-bladed
sword.
"Many thanks, my lord;" said Randal in