"Books - David Eddings - Belgarath the Sorcerer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Eddings David)

is a part of being human, but for some reason I seemed to be breaking
the rules.

"Master," I said one night high in the tower as we both labored with
our studies, "why is it that I do not grow old?"

"Wouldst thou grow old, my son?" he asked me.

"I have never seen much advantage in it, myself."

"I don't really miss it all that much, Master," I admitted, "but isn't
it customary?"

"Perhaps," he said, "but not mandatory. Thou hast much yet to learn,
and one or ten or even a hundred lifetimes would not be enough. How
old art thou, my son?"

"I think I am somewhat beyond three hundred years, Master."

"A suitable age, my son, and thou has persevered in thy studies.

Should I forget myself and call thee "boy" again, pray correct me. It
is not seemly that the disciple of a God should be called "boy." " "I
shall remember that, Master," I assured him, almost overcome with joy
that he had finally called me his disciple.

"I was certain that I could depend on thee," he said with a faint
smile.

"And what is the object of thy present study, my son?"

"I would seek to learn why the stars fall, Master."

"A proper study, my son."

"And thou, Master," I said.

"What is thy study--if I be not overbold to ask."

"Even as before, Belgarath," he replied, holding up that fatal round
stone.

"It hath been placed in my care by UL himself, and it is therefore upon
me to commune with it that I may know it--and its purpose."

"Can a stone have a purpose, Master--other than to be a stone?"

The piece of rock, now worn smooth, even polished, by my Master's
patient hand, made me apprehensive for some reason. In one of those
rare presentiments that I don't have very often, I sensed that a great