"Maggie Furey - Shadowleague 1 - The Heart of Myrial" - читать интересную книгу автора (Furey Maggie)

beech that cloaked the broad sweep of hills on either side. The folk of the
nearby villageтАФbuilt long ago to serve and support the
ShadowleagueтАФwere busy on the water and about the shores: fishing,
fowling, or laundering, making the most of this fine day in a long period of
unsettled weather. Their merry voices, gossiping, singing, and calling
salutations, mingled with a cascade of cheerful birdsong.
Far out on the lake, unnoticed by the busy folk close to the shore, the
tranquil surface erupted in a fountaining starburst of foam. A sleek, blunt-
nosed head emerged from the turbulent froth, followed by length upon
length of slender neck. The dark hump of a massive body was a distorted
shadow beneath the waves, and a long, smooth tail lashed the surface, far
behind. The monster swept toward the shore, its neck cutting a silvery wake
across the rippled water. It was heading directly for the cluster of helpless
women doing their laundry at the edge of the lake.
The bow wave from the approaching creature pushed a surge of water into
the shallows and across the lakeside shingle, immersing the laundresses past
their knees. One heavily built woman, clearly the leader of the group, raised
a brawny arm and shook her fist at the approaching nightmare. тАЬPlague on
you, Afanc! Get away out of here, you clumsy creatureтАФstirring up the mud
like that! A whole morningтАЩs hard work, gone to wasteтАФall the sheets will
be to wash again, and whoтАЩs to do it, I would like to know? Not you, thatтАЩs
for sure, you great lummox!тАЭ
In the face of her challenge, the monster let out a hoot of dismay and
stopped dead in a great swirl of water, eliciting another raucous chorus of
protest from the formidable females on the bank. Looking very abashed, it
sank its head below the surface and glided away, in a far more circumspect
manner, along the edge of the lake. Well away from the fuming laundresses,
there was a curving inlet where the lakeтАЩs stony brink dropped sheer into
deep water. There, on the gently sloping lawn that edged the little bay, a
very odd collection of individuals had begun to assemble. It was not unusual
for these meetings to be held by the lakeside, rather than in the great hall of
the Shadowleague headquarters, because the Afanc, who was Chief

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THE HEART OF MYRIAL - SHADOWLEAGUE 1 - MAGGIE FUREY

Loremaster for all water-dwellers, could not leave his watery habitat.
Cergorn, Archimandrite, Head of the Shadowleague, had watched the
encounter between matron and monsterтАФ especially the subsequent rout of
the latterтАФwith a smile on his face. As the Afanc approached, hanging its
head in embarrassment, he schooled his features to sobriety and nodded in
greeting to the gigantic lake-dweller. тАЬWelcome, Loremaster Bastiar. With
your presence, our council is now complete.тАЭ
The Afanc craned its long, black, green-sheen ed neck and peered closely at
the foregathered council members, who backed hastily away from the blast
of its fetid breath.
тАЬBastiar, have mercy!тАЭ Cergorn gasped. тАЬNot so close. You smell like a
rotting swamp!тАЭ
тАЬBut then I canтАЩt see you,тАЭ the monster complained, its telepathic тАЬvoiceтАЭ
strangely high-pitched for a creature of such vast size. тАЬYou know how poor