"Ursula K. LeGuin - Earthsea 3 - The Farthest Shore" - читать интересную книгу автора (Le Guin Ursula K)

"How can you know?" asked the Summoner.
Arren did not know where he was being required to go, nor when, nor why. He was bewildered
and abashed by these grave, honest, terrible men. If he had had time to think he could not have
said anything at all. But he had no time to think; and the Archmage had asked him, "Will you come
with me?"
"When my father sent me here he said to me, `I fear a dark time is coming on the world, a
time of danger. So I send you rather than any other messenger, for you can judge whether we should
ask the help of the Isle of the Wise in this matter, or offer the help of Enlad to them.' So if I
am needed, therefore I am here."
At that he saw the Archmage smile. There was great sweetness in the smile, though it was
brief. "Do you see?" he said to the seven mages. "Could age or wizardry add anything to this?"
Arren felt that they looked on him approvingly then, but with a kind of pondering or
wondering look, still. The Summoner spoke, his arched brows straightened to a frown: "I do not
understand it, my lord. That you are bent on going, yes. You have been caged here five years. But
always before you were alone; you have always gone alone. Why, now, companioned?"
"I never needed help before," said Sparrowhawk, with an edge of threat or irony in his
voice. "And I have found a fit companion." There was a dangerousness about him, and the tall
Summoner asked him no more questions, though he still frowned.
But the Master Herbal, calm-eyed and dark like a wise and patient ox, rose from his seat
and stood monumental. "Go, my lord," he said, "and take the lad. And all our trust goes with you."
One by one the others gave assent quietly, and by ones and twos withdrew, until only the
Summoner was left of the seven. "Sparrowhawk," he said, "I do not seek to question your judgment.
Only I say: If you are right, if there is imbalance and the peril of great evil, then a voyage to
Wathort, or into the West Reach, or to world's end, will not be far enough. Where you may have to
go, can you take this companion, and is it fair to him?"
They stood apart from Arren, and the Summoner's voice was lowered, but the Archmage spoke
openly: "It is fair."
"You are not telling me all you know," the Summoner said.
"If I knew, I would speak. I know nothing. I guess much."
"Let me come with you:
"One must guard the gates."
"The Doorkeeper does that-"
"Not only the gates of Roke. Stay here. Stay here, and watch the sunrise to see if it be
bright, and watch at the wall of stones to see who crosses it and where their faces are turned.
There is a breach, Thorion, there is a break, a wound, and it is this I go to seek. If I am lost,
then maybe you will find it. But wait. I bid you wait for me." He was speaking now in the Old
Speech, the language of the Making, in which all true spells are cast and on which all the great
acts of magic depend; but very seldom is it spoken in conversation, except among the dragons. The
Summoner made no further argument or protest, but bowed his tall head quietly both to the Archmage
and to Arren and departed.
The fire crackled in the hearth. There was no other sound. Outside the windows the fog
pressed formless and dim.
The Archmage stared into the flames, seeming to have forgotten Arren's presence. The boy
stood at some distance from the hearth, not knowing if he should take his leave or wait to be
dismissed, irresolute and somewhat desolate, feeling again like a small figure in a dark,
illimitable, confusing space.
"We'll go first to Hort Town," said Sparrowhawk, turning his back to the fire. "News
gathers there from all the South Reach, and we may find a lead. Your ship still waits in the bay.
Speak to the master; let him carry word to your father. I think we should leave as soon as may be.
At daybreak tomorrow. Come to the steps by the boathouse."