"Raymond E. Feist - Riftwar Saga 1a - Magician Apprentice" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)

While he rested, the rain took on an insistent quality and the sky darkened as the late-afternoon sun
was completely engulfed in storm clouds. His momentary relief was replaced with anger at himself for
losing the sack of sandcrawlers. His displeasure doubled when he considered his folly at falling asleep.
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Had he remained awake, he would have made the return trip unhurriedly, would not have sprained his
ankle, and would have had time to explore the streambed above the bluffs for the smooth stones he
prized so dearly for slinging. Now there would be no stones, and it would be at least another week
before he could return. If Megar didn't send another boy instead, which was likely now that he was
returning empty-handed.



Pug's attention shifted to the discomfort of sitting in the rain, and he decided it was time to move on.
He stood and tested his ankle. It protested such treatment, but he could get along on it. He limped over
the grass to where he had left his belongings and picked up his rucksack, staff, and sling. He swore an
oath he had heard soldiers at the keep use when he found the rucksack ripped apart and his bread and
cheese missing. Raccoons, or possibly sand lizards, he thought. He tossed the now useless sack aside
and wondered at his misfortune.



Taking a deep breath, he leaned on his staff as he started across the low rolling hills that divided the
bluffs from the road. Stands of small trees were scattered over the landscape, and Pug regretted there
wasn't more substantial shelter nearby, for there was none upon the bluffs. 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