"Books - David Eddings - Polgara the Sorceress" - читать интересную книгу автора (Eddings David)

and Ce'Nedra was shrewd enough not to argue about the matter
any further. She obediently dressed herself in Alorn fur garments,
spoke at some length with the nurse who would oversee the royal
children during her absence, and then she and her husband left the
Isle of the Winds aboard the disreputable Captain Greldik's dubious
ship on the morning tide.
They purchased horses and supplies in Camaar and set out toward
the east. The regularly spaced Tolnedran hostels along the highway
to Muros provided adequate lodgings each night, but after Muros,
they were largely on their own. The Rivan King, however, had spent a
great deal of time living out in the open, and his little wife was forced
to concede that he was adequate when the time came to set up camp.
The Rivan Queen was realistic enough to know just how
ridiculous she looked while gathering firewood in those camps. The bulky
fur garments she wore gave her a roly-poly appearance, her flaming
red hair streamed down her back, and because of her size she could
only carry a few sticks at a time. The unwanted image of a red-haired
beaver trudging through the snow came to her quite often.
The snow was deep in the Sendarian mountains, and it seemed
to Ce'Nedra that her feet would never be warm again. She could
not give her husband the satisfaction of admitting that, however.
This trek was her idea, after all, and she'd have sooner died than
admit that it might have been a mistake.
Ce'Nedra was like that sometimes.
It was snowing lightly and was bitterly cold when they came
down out of the mountains and rode south across the snowy plains
of Algaria. Although it definitely went against the grain to confess
it, even privately, Ce'Nedra was actually glad that her husband had
been so insistent about fur clothing.
And then as a chill evening was settling over southern Algaria
and when lowering clouds were spitting tiny pellets of snow, they
topped a rise and saw the little valley on the northern edge of
the Vale of Aldur where Poledra's cottage and the surrounding
outbuildings lay. The cottage had been there for eons, of course, but
the barns and sheds were Durnik's additions, and they gave the
place the appearance of a Sendarian farmstead.
Ce'Nedra wasn't really interested in comparative architecture at
that point, however. All she really wanted to do was to get in out
of the cold. 'Do they know that we're coming?' she asked her
husband, her breath steaming in the biting cold.
'Yes,' Garion replied. 'I told Aunt Pol that we were on the way a
couple of days ago.'
'Sometimes you're a very useful fellow to have around, your
Majesty,' Ce'Nedra smiled.
'Your Majesty is too kind.' His reply was a bit flippant.
'Oh, Garion.' They both laughed as they pushed on down the hill.
The cottage - they'd always called it that, though in actuality it
was growing to be a fairly large house - nestled at the side of an
ice-bound little stream, and the snow was piled up to the bottom
of the windows. There was a kind of golden invitation about the