"Jim Farris - Mage 4 - The Wench of Woe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Farris Jim)

The old man hung his head. He did not question the Goddess, sending an angry retort to the heavens
asking why. He knew why. He did not ask why the loss of his son had not been enough. He knew that
each mortal faced their own destiny. No, he simply hung his head, and silently prayed that if it was not
painless, that it would, at least, be swift.




The sound of hoof-beats slowed to a trot, then a walk, then finally stopped, the steed snorting as it
stood before the porch. The old man did not look up.




"I have returned, Malik," the woman said, her voice like ice.




The old man simply nodded.




"If you thought to hide from me, you should have moved farther away from Woe. Everyone I met in
the Village of Woe still knew who you were, and where you were - some even remembered who I was,
as well. No, this little house you've built is only half a league down the beach from the village. You were
not that difficult to find."
 "I was not hiding," Malik replied quietly, his gaze in his lap.




"You know why I am here."




Malik nodded again. "To avenge the wrong I did you, so long ago."




"So you know it was wrong?"