"John Morressy - The Protectors of Zendor" - читать интересную книгу автора (Morressy John)

The Protectors of Zendor by John Morressy
Since his encounter with giants and dwarves in our February issue, Kedrigern the wizard has been
keeping busy with research projects such as his study of hawks' eyesight. A good thing it is that
he's rested, because his latest caper will take him and Princess into the ever-thorny world of
diplomacy.
They crested the hill and saw the towered and turreted walls of Zendor in the far distance. "We'll be there
before sundown," Princess said. Kedrigern heaved a great sigh and reined in his horse. Princess halted at
his side and cast a quick suspicious look in his direction.

The wizard closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. Without turning to her, he said, "I don't want to
do this. I think helping Durmuk is a complete waste of time and magic."

"Never mind Durmuk. Do it for the people of Zendor," Princess said. "They're in great danger."

"The more I think about that, the less likely it seems. I don't trust Durmuk, and I don't trust his message."

In the tone one employs in dealing with a difficult child, Princess said, "It would be foolish to turn back
when we're practically at the gates of Zendor. Let's go on. If we learn that he's deceived us, we'll leave."

Kedrigern emitted a wordless grumble. He did not want to go a step farther. They had spent eight days
traveling here. That meant they would spend eight more returning, plus whatever time it took to find out
the truth, if any, behind the summons. The possibility that all those days might be wasted made him
contemplate colorful retaliation on the man who called himself Durmuk the Benign and whose benignity
extended no farther than his feckless greedy self.

His message had been both blunt and vague: Only the power of a great wizard can save the brave
men of Zendor from a dreadful fate. Come to our aid, we implore you. To any wizard unfamiliar with
Durmuk and his ways, it was an appeal to honor and conscience, an inescapable moral obligation; and
the promised fee was generous. But Kedrigern was acquainted with the man, and knew that it might
mean no more than that someone beyond Durmuk's immediate reach was disturbing his personal comfort
and convenience. If that turned out to be the case, Kedrigern promised himself, any fate involved would
be a lot more dreadful than Durmuk intended.

And yet there was the possibility that Princess was right, the danger was real, and the message was in
earnest. It was a remote possibility, but it existed. Even Durmuk was capable of truth in an emergency.
All the same, he was a dismal specimen of a king: a spoiled and lazy glutton who concentrated on his
own gratification and left Zendoran affairs in the hands of his numerous relatives. Why the people of
Zendor, who liked to think of themselves as a proud and independent breed, had not sent this thoroughly
worthless king and his parasitic family packing long ago, Kedrigern could not understand. Maybe they
found them to their liking. If that were the case, they deserved one another and whatever befell them, and
a wizard was a fool to waste his time helping them.

He was so absorbed in his sour brooding that Princess's sudden "Oh, dear me" startled him.

"What is it?" he cried in alarm. "Where?"

"There, right ahead of us."

He saw only a woman with a bundle in her arms. She was coming toward them at a headlong pace.