"Janrae Frank - Journey of Sacred King 4 - Children of Wrath" - читать интересную книгу автора (Frank Janrae)

Growth enveloped everything except this one densely shaded path that led through
the city walls to the gates of the keep itself. All Josiah could see was green and
brown, leaves and trunks, with here and there a glimpse of gray stone walls and
broken roofs. He dismounted to see it better, and marvelled at the incredible
vegetation.

Laelyn frowned, fully aware of the healers' orders that he not tire himself, and swung
out of the saddle to saunter along beside him. Josiah walked with the reins of his
horse loosely in his hand; taking small steps, his head back as far as he could lean,
trying not to trip while glancing frequently back and forth between his feet and the
dark green ceiling of leaves dappled by sunlight.

"It's truly miraculous," Josiah said. "I've never seen anything like it."

Laelyn chuckled softly. "You should have seen it happen. One moment the undead
was all around me and the next... Well, I can't describe it really. It just happened too
fast."

"I imagine so. Mages can't compare to the divines."

Josiah had managed to assemble a fairly solid account of what had happened, just
from the various things that people had told him over the past few days тАУ Dynarien
especially. He had shared a tent with Dynarien while they were both under
Laurelyanne's care in the days following the battle.

Dynarien was healing at a phenomenal rate, and they would not be sharing quarters
much longer. So Josiah had gotten as much of the tale out of him as he could, while
he could.

"Dynarien said the memories lodged in the earth itself awakened."

In a single act of desperation, Dynarien had reached out to his father, and in that
moment the Twice-Born Son and the Valdren earthmages became vessels of
Willodarus to draw the divine power into this place of death, to bring life here. It
must have been wondrous. Those mages would speak of it for the rest of their lives.
As would every one who had witnessed the miracle. Josiah wished he could have
seen it happen, but his wounds from an earlier battle and the recurrent fever they
brought had prevented him.

"I wouldn't know about that," Laelyn said. "I'm not a mage. What I do know is the
undead were going down like grain before the scythes."
 Josiah wondered why Laelyn bothered with him. Maybe it was a favor to Aejys. He
was afraid to ask, knowing how easily the question could be misinterpreted, and just
asking it could led to revealing more than he wished to if she hadn't heard the
rumors. On the other hand, there were so many Vorgeni in the ranks of his lover's
army that he had no doubt that most, if not all, of the Sharani, like Laelyn, had to
have heard at least some of it.

Those from the city of Vorgensburg still tended to think of him as Josh the Sot тАУ
the town drunk. He had overheard their gossiping about him. Sometimes they got in