"Robert Don Hughes - Pelman 02 - The Wizard in Waiting" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hughes Robert Don)

messengers and consorts said outside the regent's hearing. Even so, it
was a relief to find that the throne room had not been greatly
altered.

The foundations are the same, the House sighed, reassured. Still as
firm, as impenetrable as the rock from which they had been carved.
Indeed, while cosmetic changes had been made, the basic ffoorplan of
the massive palace would still have been recognizable to Nobalog.

Nobalog! The Imperial House winced, and a dolorous booming issued from
the cistern beneath the kitchen, as the castle mourned the passing of
its friend. More than a friend, really, for it had been the
oowershaper Nobalog "the fat, bald one" who had birthed consciousness
in the castle so many years before.

How many? the Imperial House wondered. How long had it been?

Not that it mattered, particularly, with Nobalog dead. While there had
been many in that ancient age who sported with the castle, debating
with it about current events or telling it meaningless human jokes,
only Nobalog ever took the time to understand. More than that, of all
the power shapers who had walked its corridors, only Nobalog had been
sensitive to the damaging effects of magic upon the House. Nobalog had
been a friend.

But Nobalog was long dead. That was the problem with humans.
Eventually, they all died. Nobalog had been gone a thousand years by
the time the dragon came, and put the castle to sleep.

The House listened again with some attention to the words of Queen
Ligne, for her sharp voice had jogged its memory. It had heard her
before!

There have been dreams, the House said quietly, dreams that were not
dreams at all, but rather stages of awakening. This is why some things
are known.

Seeking to learn more, the House followed the woman's march down the
hallway and onto the grand spiral. This was a gigantic curving
staircase that formed the hub of all castle activities. Had she passed
down the spiral, it would have taken her onto the dais of the vast
great hall, where all of those within the walls took their meals. The
House noted with some concern that the upper end of the spiral now
opened onto the lowest garden terrace. Though beautiful, this new area
was outside the castle's range of hearing. Ligne did not climb that
high, however, turning off instead to stamp toward the royal
apartments. She was bellowing orders even before she reached her
attiring room, so that, by the time she slung open the door, a dozen
attendants were already waiting to change her.