"Mercedes Lackey - Last Herald Mage 2 - Magic's Promise" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

Mercedes Lackey
Last Herald Mage 02
MagicтАЩs Promise
Dedicated to:
Elizabeth (Betsy) Wollheim
Who said - тАЭGo for itтАЭ


One
The blue leather saddlebags and a canvas pack, all a-bulging with filthy
clothing and miscellaneous gear, landed in the corner of Vanyel's room with
three dull thuds. The lute, still in its padded leather case, slithered over the
back of one of the two overstuffed chairs and landed with a softer pumph, to
rest in the cradle of the worn red seat cushion. Once safely there it sagged,
leaning over sideways like a fat, drunken child. The dark leather lute case
glowed dully in the mid-morning sun still coming in the single eastward-facing
window. Two years of mistreatment had not marred the finish too much,
although the case was scuffed here and there, and had been torn and
remended with tiny, careful stitches along the belly.
Vanyel grimaced at the all-too-visible tear. Torn? No, no tear would be
that even. Say cut, or slashed and it would be nearer the truth. Pray nobody
else notices that.
Better the lute case than me ... that came closer than I really want to think
about. I hope Savil never gets a good look at it. She'd know what that meant,
and she'd have a cat.
Herald-Mage Vanyel took the other chair gracelessly, dropping all his
weight at once into the embrace of comfortable upholstered arms.
Home at last. Havens, I sound like the pack hitting the corner.
тАЬO-o-oh.тАЭ Vanyel leaned back, feeling every muscle in his body crying out
with long-ignored aches and strains. His thoughts fumbled their way into his
conscious mind through a fog of utter exhaustion. He wanted, more than
anything, to close his gritty eyes. But he didn't dare, because the moment he
did, he'd fall asleep.
Someday I'm going to remember I'm not sixteen anymore, and keep in
mind that I can't stay up till all hours, then rise with the dawn, and not pay for
it.
A few moments ago his Companion Yfandes had fallen asleep, standing
up in the stable, while he was grooming her. They'd started out on this last leg
of their journey long before dawn this morning, and had pushed their limits,
eating up the last dregs of their strength just to get to the sanctuary of тАЬhomeтАЭ
the sooner.
Gods. If only I would never have to see the Karsite Border again.
No chance of that. Lord and Lady, if you love me, just give me enough
time to get my wind back. That's all I ask. Time enough to feel like a human
again, and not a killing machine.
The room smelled strongly of soap and the beeswax used to polish the
furniture and wall paneling. He stretched, listening to his joints crack, then
blinked at his surroundings.
Peculiar. Why doesn't this feel like home? He pondered for a moment, for
it seemed to him that his modest, goldenoak-paneled quarters had the