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

"Perhaps a powerful wizard. Several powerful wizards."

"My dear, we would have sensed the presence of other wizards long before this. No, Lord Ransidine
and his friends are hungry for a war, and they want me here to make sure they have it at no cost to
Zendor. Not even my fee, I bet."

"You just don't like blustering bullies who enjoy starting wars."

"No, I don't. Do you?"

"Of course not. But how can you be certain that's what they're really up to?"

Kedrigern dropped onto the bed beside her, folded his arms, and scowled. "I can't. That's what bothers
me. I feel it. I'm sure of it. Everything points to it. But I don't know."

"And what about that poor woman and her child?"

He groaned. "I don't know what to do about her, either. You remember how much trouble we had with
the bog-fairy spell on you. It took us years to rid you of that thing."

"This one might not be as bad."

"They're all bad."

"Well, try to get a good night's sleep. I'm sure you'll think of something."

Princess turned on her side and went directly to sleep. Kedrigern would have preferred to vent for an
hour or so, but that required an audience. He was sure he would not sleep well, and he was right.
****
He spent much of the next morning pacing about the palace and the grounds, eyes downcast, trying to
concentrate while all around him Zendor made ready for war. Everywhere in the castle and its environs,
the clamor of preparation clanked and rattled and thumped and thundered and roared.

He was in a quandary. It would not be right for him to protect the men of Zendor in order that they might
butcher their neighbors with impunity; neither would it be right for him to let lives be spilled that he might
otherwise have saved. The ideal solution was to stop the war entirely, but with men like Lord Ransidine
and his faction determined to reduce Grendoorn to dust and ashes, that might require drastic steps. And
on the chance that there were those in Grendoorn who felt as Ransidine did, rash action might only waste
time and magic and leave things worse than before. What he needed was a way to make war unthinkable
for either side. And if a spell for that purpose existed, it had been kept very secret.

Granted the frailties of human nature and the evidence of history, a permanent peace was unlikely; but if
he could find a way to keep matters quiet for a few years, cooler heads might prevail. If they did not
seem to be doing so, he could help things along at the proper moment.

He had a strong urge to wash his hands of this sorry business and return home. At the thought, he
realized that once home he would have to face the problem of undoing a bog-fairy's spell, and an
obviously well-planned one at that, likely to be swathed in all manner of snares for the unwary
disenchanter.