"Raymond E. Feist - Riftwar 1 - Magician2" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)

He would be no wetter for trudging to town than for staying under a tree.
The wind picked up, and Pug felt the first cold bite against his wet back.
He shivered and hurried his pace as well as he could. The small trees
started to bend before the wind, and Pug felt as if a great hand were
pushing at his back. Reaching the road, he turned north. He heard the eerie
sound of the great forest off to the east, the wind whistling
Through the branches of the ancient oaks, adding to its already foreboding
aspect. The dark glades of the forest were probably no more perilous
than the King's road, but remembered tales of outlaws and other, less
human, malefactors stirred the hairs on the boy's neck. Cutting across the
King's road, Pug gained a little shelter in the gully that ran alongside
it. The wind intensified and rain stung his eyes, bringing tears to already
wet cheeks. A gust caught him, and he stumbled off balance for a moment.
Water was gathering in the roadside gully, and he had to step carefully to
keep from losing his footing in unexpectedly deep puddles. For nearly an
hour he made his way through the ever growing storm. The road turned
northwest, bringing him almost full face into the howling wind. Pug
leaned into the wind, his shirt whipping out behind him. He swallowed hard,
to force down the choking panic rising within him. He knew he was in danger
now, for the storm was gaining in fury far beyond normal for this time of
year. Great ragged bolts of lightning lit the dark landscape, briefly
outlining the trees and road in harsh, brilliant white and opague black.
The dazzling afterimages, black and white reversed, stayed with him for a
moment each time, confusing his senses. Enormous thunder peals sounding
overhead felt like physical blows. Now his fear of the storm outweighed his
fear of imagined brigands and goblins. He decided to walk among the trees
near the road; the wind would be lessened somewhat by the boles of the
oaks. As Pug closed upon the forest, a crashing sound brought him to a
halt. In the gloom of the storm he could barely make out the form of a
black forest boar as it burst out of the undergrowth. The pig tumbled from
the brush, lost its footing, then scrambled to its feet a few yards away.
Pug could see it clearly as it stood there regarding him, swinging its head
from side to side. Two large tusks seemed to glow in the dim light as they
dripped rainwater. Fear made its eyes wide, and it pawed at the ground.
The forest pigs were bad-tempered at best, but normally avoided humans.
This one was panic-stricken by the storm, and Pug knew if it charged he
could be badly gored, even killed. Standing stock-still, Pug made ready to
swing his staff, but hoped the pig would return to the woods. The boar's
head raised, testing the boys smell on the wind. Its pink eyes seemed to
glow as it trembled with indecision. A sound made it turn toward the trees
for a moment, then it dropped its head and charged. Pug swung his staff,
bringing it down in a glancing blow to the side of the pig's head, turning
it. The pig slid sideways in the muddy footing, hitting Pug in the legs. He
went down as the pig slipped past. Lying on the ground, Pug saw the boar
skitter about as it turned to charge again.


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