"L. E. Modesitt - Recluce 04 - The Chaos Balance" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

Nylan winced at the thought of grease across the eyes, and the effort it must have cost the
flame-haired healer. Healing through the order fields was exhausting, as he knew from experience.
He'd collapsed more than once. "How is she?"
"She'll be fine."
"How about you?"
"I'll need a nap after I eat. A long one." Ayrlyn took a long swallow of the hot tea.
Nylan nodded sympathetically, then took a sip of his own tea while waiting for the huge
crockpot filled with stew to reach him.
"You need to eat more," Hryessa badgered Daryn from the foot of the table.
"You need to be strong to return to Gallos," suggested Murkassa, a glint in her eye.
"I cannot return," said Daryn quietly, a flush stealing over his fair-complected face. "You
know that. One of the standard-bearers of Gallos? A single survivor? I would be suspected of


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treachery ... or worse."
"We've been through this before," said Ayrlyn, interrupting the teasing, straight-faced. "You
certainly weren't the only survivor, just the only one daring enough to -entice a guard. Some of
the wounded in the lower camp made their way back to Lornth and Gallos."
Daryn flushed again, then replied. "Most died. You know that, healer. Those that did return
reached their homes before the winter snows. After a winter on the Roof of the World ..." Daryn
shrugged.
"You could not have traveled. You almost died," said Hryessa.
"No." Daryn laughed, not quite bitterly. "It is difficult for a one-footed man to travel the
Westhorns."
"Almost as difficult as for a single woman to travel Candar unmolested," added Ryba dryly.
A murmur of assent ran across the tables.
Nylan wanted to shake his head. Candar was a powerflux ready to explode, and just by founding
Westwind Ryba had started the energy cascade.
"Daryn?" asked the Marshal.
"Yes, Marshal," answered the youth warily.
"What do you know about a place called Cyador?"
"Only what the traders tell, ser. It is the ancient home of those who follow the white way, and
filled with silver and malachite, and great buildings walled with mirrors that catch and hold the
sun. Even the smallest of dwellings are like palaces."
"Exactly where is this paradise?"
"Somewhere beyond the Westhorns-that is all I know."
"What brought that up?" Nylan asked Ryba.
"I've been studying some of those scrolls Ayrlyn picked up, and there are some disturbing
references to Cyador, especially to how the ancient ones channeled the rivers and built the grass
hills to turn back travelers. Oh, and about how some daughters of Cyador fled to the barbarians."
Ryba's voice turned dry. "I wonder about paradise if those daughters fled."
A murmur of laughter went around the table.
"It must be beyond Lornth, then," said Ayrlyn. "Relyn never mentioned it. Nor did Nerliat."
"Relyn's probably spreading tales about the great new ancient one," suggested Hryessa.
"That will only cause more trouble," said Ryba quietly. Her eyes turned on Nylan momentarily,
before she took a mouthful of the mint stew.
Not about to get into a discussion about Relyn and his efforts to create a new religion based