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

"Tell me truly," he pleaded.

"Dost thou think he will find this poor offering of mine acceptable?"

I laughed.

"I can't think of a single thing you could have done that would offend
him more."

The stranger looked stricken. He turned quickly and reached out as if
he were going to grab up the animal with his bare hands to hide it.

"Don't be an idiot!" I snapped.

"You'll burn yourself!"

"It must be hidden," he said desperately.

"I would rather die than offend mighty Aldur."

"Just get out of the way," I told him.

"What?"

"Stand clear," I said, irritably waving him off, "unless you want to
take a trip with your goat." Then I looked at his grotesque little
altar, willed it to a spot five miles distant, and trans located it
with a single word, leaving only a few tatters of confused smoke
hanging in the air.

He collapsed on his face again.

"You're going to wear out your clothes if you keep doing that," I told
him, "and my Master won't find it very amusing."

"I pray thee, mighty disciple of most high Aldur," he said, rising and
dusting himself off again, "instruct me so that I offend not the God."
He must have been an Arend. No Tolnedran could possibly mangle the
language the way he did.

"Be truthful," I told him, "and don't try to impress him with false
show and flowery speech. Believe me, friend, he can see straight into
your heart, so there's no way you can deceive him. I'm not sure which
God you worshiped before, but Aldur's like no other God in the whole
world."

What an asinine thing that was to say. No two Gods are ever the
same.

"And how may I become his disciple, as thou art?"