"Farland, David - Runelords 5 - Sons of the Oak (v1.0)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Farland David)

From the window, mere came a sound, a distant rumble, the growl of one of the strengi-saats from the woods. Iome strode to the veranda, and considered closing the doors.
She stood listening for a moment. Across the fields, the cottages were all dark. Not a single lamp shone in a window. And now a ghost mist was rising from the warm River Gyell, spreading through the downs. A bell-like call sounded to the norm of the castle, and Iome thought it odd. The creatures had come from the south.
She waited a moment, heard an answering call from me south, and two from the west.
They're circling die castle, she realized. Perhaps mey're after more women. Or after my son.
She dared not ignore Gaborn's warning or even to hesitate to act. "I think that you're right," Iome said. "It would be best to leave quietly, and soon. Fallion, go and find Jaz. Tell him mat you are to go to your rooms and pack three changes of clothing, your long knives, and perhaps a few trinkets, but no more than each of you can easily carry. Then go straight to bed and get some rest."
"Yes, Mother," Fallion said.

Iome watched as he hurried from the room, his feet rustling across the stone floor. She stood for a moment, thinking, then sighed deeply. She turned to Borenson. "You think well of Fallion. You could not hide the hope in your voice when you spoke of him challenging Anders."
"I watched his father grow," Borenson said. "He was a good lad, and I knew that he'd make a great king. But Fallion will be better."
Iome smiled. No one could do more for his people than what Gaborn Val Orden had done. "All parents hope that their children will be better than they are." She thought a moment. "But don't speak of those hopes to Fallion. He's just a child."
"With enemies that are more than man-sized."
"We'll leave before dawn," Iome said.
"Do you plan to come?" Borenson asked. "It's a far jourмney."
"I'll come," Iome said. "You know where to go?"
"I have an idea, milady," Borenson said. "When I received the command, I had an ... impression."
"Speak of our destination to no one," Iome said. "Not me, not the children. The fewer people who know the way, the fewer who can reveal it."
"I understand," Borenson said.
"We must consider which guards to take with us. I'll want Daymorra and Hadissa, I think."
"The fewer the better," Borenson argued. "If we're to travel discreetly, exotic guards will attract attention."
"Of course." There was so much to plan, Iome's mind was spinning. If the boys did not have guards, then perhaps they'd need to protect themselves. "Do you think the boys are ready for their first endowments?"
Borenson gave her a hard look. Iome and Gaborn had both been loath to let their sons taste the first kiss of the forcible, to let them feel the ecstasy of having another's atмtributes flow into them, lest they yearn to repeat the experiмence over and over, and thus become corrupted.
Worse, Iome knew firsthand the toll paid by those who

gave endowments. She'd seen her own father become a drooling idiot after he gave his Wit to die wolf lord Raj Ahten. Iome had given her glamour to Raj, and had watched her own beauty turn to corruption.
"It's a heady thing for a child," Borenson said. "Jaz isn't ready yet. He acts like any other child his age, but Fallion's a good boy, very mature for his age. He could bear it... if you are ready to lay mat burden on him."
Iome bit her lip. She knew what he meant by "burden." Iome had laid endowments upon her own husband, had given him endless strength and stamina with which to fight the reavers. And as a result, she had lost him.
In the very same way, she would be sacrificing her sons if she gave mem endowments now. Their childhood would end the instant the forcibles touched dieir flesh. She might give them greater strengm, speed, wit, and stamina with which to fight their battles, but in doing so she would lay upon mem an onus, a burden of responsibility that no child should have to bear. The very attributes that saved them would warp mem, suck the joy from dieir lives.
It was a quandary. Do I ruin a boy's life in order to save it?
"A thought, if I may?" Borenson said. "Your sons are goмing into hiding. But how long can diey remain hidden if mey bear the scars of the forcible?"
He had a point. If her boys had the strengm of diree men, the grace of two, the wit of four, the speed of direeЧhow long could mey hide such powers? Even if mey managed to hide mem, the runes mat die forcibles branded into their skin would mark them for what they were.
And it would leave mem only half alive, as she'd left Gaborn only half alive when she sacrificed him for the good of her people.
"Very well," Iome said, letting out a sigh. "If my children cannot protect memselves, men we will have to protect them." She gave Borenson a long, appraising look. "Sir Borenson, you were once the greatest warrior of our generaмtion. Wim a few endowments, you could be again."
Borenson went to me window and looked away, uncertain

what to say, considering the offer. He had thought about this many times, and had turned it down just as many.
He had taken endowments when he was young, and in doмing so, had turned strong men into weaklings, wise men into fools, hale men into sicklingsЧall so that their attributes would be bound into him.
But for what?
When a lord took endowments, those who gave them, his Dedicates, lost their attributes and stood in need of protecмtion, protection that never seemed quite ample.
For once Borenson took endowments, every lord and brigмand would know that the easiest way to take him down would be to kill his Dedicates, stripping Borenson of the atмtributes that they magically channeled to him.
Thus, in the past, those who had served Borenson the best had all paid with their lives.
Worse than that, Borenson himself had been forced to play the assassin, slaughtering the Dedicates of Raj Ahten, killing more than two thousand in a single night. Many of those had been men and women that were numbered among his friends. Others were just children.
Nine years past, Borenson had put away his weapons and sworn to become a man of peace.
But now, he wondered, dare I take this charge without also taking endowments?
I made that choice long ago, he decided. When I became a father.
"My daughter Erin is still in diapers," Borenson said. "If I were to take three or four endowments of metabolism, she'd be ten when I died of old age."
"So you dare not make my mistake?" Iome said.
Borenson had not meant to offer this painful reminder, but Iome had to understand what he was faced with.
"I want to grow old with my children. I want to watch them marry and have my grandbabies, and be there to give them advice when they need. I don't want to take endowмments of metabolism. And without those, the rest would be almost meaningless."

It was true. A man might take great endowments of grace and brawn and stamina, but that would not make him a great warriorЧnot if an opponent charged into batde with three or four endowments of metabolism. Borenson would die in a blur to a weaker man before he could ever land a blow.