"R A Salvatore - Icewind Dale Trilogy 1 - Crystal Shard, The" - читать интересную книгу автора (Salvatore R. A)

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"It is done, then?" the burly man asked when Kessell entered the dark
alley designated as the meeting place.
Kessell nodded eagerly. "The red-robed wizard of Luskan shan't cast
again!" he proclaimed too loudly for the likes of his fellow conspirators.
"Speak quietly, fool," Dendybar the Mottled, a frail-looking man tucked
defensively within the alleyway's shadows demanded in the same monotonous
voice that he always used. Dendybar rarely spoke at all and never displayed
any semblance of passion when he did. Ever was he hidden beneath the
low-pulled cowl of his robe. There was something coldblooded about Dendybar
that unnerved most people who met him. Though the wizard was physically the
smallest and least imposing man on the merchant caravan that had made the
four-hundred mile journey to the frontier settlement of Ten-Towns, Kessell
feared him more than any of the others.
"Morkai the Red, my former master, is dead," Kessell reiterated softly.
"Akar Kessell, this day forward known as Kessell the Red, is now appointed
to the Wizard's Guild of Luskan!"
"Easy, friend," said Eldeluc, putting a comforting hand on Kessell's
nervously twitching shoulder. "There will be time for a proper coronation
when we return to the city." He smiled and winked at Dendybar from behind
Kessell's head.
Kessell's mind was whirling, lost in a daydream search through all of
the ramifications of his pending appointment. Never again would he be
taunted by the other apprentices, boys much younger than he who climbed
through the ranks in the guild step by tedious step. They would show him
some respect now, for he would leap beyond even those who had passed him by
in the earliest days of his apprenticeship, into the honorable position of
wizard.
As his thoughts probed every detail of the coming days, though,
Kessell's radiant face suddenly grayed over. He turned sharply on the man
at his side, his features tensed as though he had discovered a terrible
error. Eldeluc and several of the others in the alley became uneasy. They
all fully understood the consequences if the archmage of the Hosttower of
the Arcane ever learned of their murderous deed.
"The robe?" Kessell asked. "Should I have brought the red robe?"
Eldeluc couldn't contain his relieved chuckle, but Kessell merely took
it as a comforting gesture from his new-found friend.
I should have known that something so trivial would throw him into such
a fit, Eldeluc told himself, but to Kessell he merely said, "Have no fear
about it. There are plenty of robes in the Hosttower. It would seem a bit
suspicious, would it not, if you showed up at the archmage's doorstep
claiming the vacated seat of Morkai the Red and holding the very garment
that the murdered wizard was wearing when he was slain?"
Kessell thought about it for a moment, then agreed.
"Perhaps," Eldeluc continued, "you should not wear the red robe."
Kessell's eyes squinted in panic. His old self-doubts, which had haunted
him for all of his days since his childhood, began to bubble up within him.
What was Eldeluc saying? Were they going to change their minds and not
award him the seat he had rightfully earned?