"Mercedes Lackey - Owl Mage 1 - Owlflight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

ErroldтАЩs Grove lay on the very far western edge of Valdemar; nominally it was part of Valdemar,
but the people here seldom saw a Herald more than once a year, and of late it had been longer than that
between visits. Not that a Herald would do Darian any good, but the HeraldsтАЩ absence made the
villagers feel neglected and forgotten, and that made them even harder on anyone who didnтАЩt conform.
And Darian would never conform. He hated the village, he hated the people who saw no farther
than the edges of their fields and wanted nothing more. He wanted more; he was stifling for want of
freedom, and felt as if he were starving on a diet of confinement and mediocrity. HeтАЩd been out there
where these villagers feared, and he remembered it far more vividly than anything that had happened to
him in this dull little huddle of huts. Once heтАЩd traveled the deep Forest he was never the same again, and
he didnтАЩt want to be part of this insular flock of humanity.
He ran like a hare through the field of corn behind the cottage, bare callused feet making little
noise on the soft, cultivated earth. Nobody stopped him; the tall green corn hid him from view, and if they
heard his running feet, they probably thought it was one of their own children coming back from an
errand. A moment later, Darian burst into the shadows of the Forest at the edge of the fields and slowed
once he was in the shelter of the undergrowth. He took a moment to orient himself, then twisted his way
through the brush and sought refuge in his favorite tree, one of the enormous Forest giants that ringed the
village and kept it in shade for most of the day. He climbed as swiftly as a squirrel or a tree-hare and as
surely; even blinded by tears he had no trouble finding his hiding place where the great trunk split in two,
forming a cup that a boy could easily curl up in and still have room for a few possessions. Beneath him
lay the village, a cluster of about fifty buildings on the forested side of a bridged ford on the River Londell
right on the edge of the Pelagiris Forest.
It went on forever in three directions, climbing hills, plunging into valleys, and crowning the huge
bluff that rose above the river downstream of the village, with only the Londell halting its march toward
the heart of Valdemar. The hard-won fields carved out of the forest were tended and fertilized with the
greatest and tenderest of care, for it took terrible effort to gain a foot of clear ground from the trees, and
there was always the chance (so it was said) that the Forest would decide to take revenge for trees that
were cut down rather than falling down naturally. The Forest had always been a fairly uncanny place
according to the old granthers and grammers of the village, but since the start of the mage-storms it had
gotten very much stranger and far more dangerous.
A Herald had come - the first he had seen - three months after his unwanted apprenticeship to
Justyn had been decided for him. The Herald had been light-skinned, with a long blond braid of hair, and
looked all the paler because of the white outfit and matching riding coat. With him, of course, had been
his Companion, a white horse that was more than a horse - it was more like a dreamerтАЩs ideal of
everything a horse could be, with lambent blue eyes, a long mane and hide that stayed impossibly clean,
and silvery hooves. The Herald had explained that the strange things that were happening were called
тАЬmage-storms,тАЭ and they were caused by the magic of the world being disturbed a very long time ago.
They had been told that the greatest mages of the world had united under Valdemaran leadership, and
were working to prevent any major catastrophes. The Herald had answered the few questions posed by
the villagers, looking to the white horse and then back. Darian had wondered at the time if he was the
only one of the group, Justyn included, who felt like the white horse and the Herald were communicating
with each other through then-looks and subtle gestures. The Herald would have gone on, but several of
the older folk of the village hauled him away to explain more, out of DarianтАЩs earshot. Since that took
Justyn away as well, he was perfectly happy with that, and went off then to spend time alone in this very
place of refuge. By the time heтАЩd emerged, the Herald and his Companion had gone, and there hadnтАЩt
been one through here since.
According to Justyn, the fact that ErroldтАЩs Grove was relatively near Lake Evendim meant that
they got the worst of the mage-storms. Huge circles of land and the creatures in them either changed
completely or warped and twisted out of all recognition. Monsters appeared, things worse than the worst
nightmare or legend, and unfortunately there were no friendly Hawkbrothers nearby to chase away or kill
them - not that the people of ErroldтАЩs Grove particularly trusted the Hawkbrothers. At one time these