"Douglas Niles - Forgotten Realms - Moonshae 02 - Black Wizard" - читать интересную книгу автора (Niles Douglas)

"Ever since Robyn left to study with her aunt, you've been acting like a
brooding puppy one minute, and a drunken buffoon the next!"
"I love her! She's gone, and nothing seems to matter except the next time I
can see her face. By the goddess, I
BLACK WIZARDS
miss her! I don't even know if she'll ever come backтАФwhat if she decides to
spend her life in the woods, tending some MoonweU of the Vale?"
The king stalked around the chair to face his son, and the prince forced
himself to meet his father's gaze.
"And what if she does? That is her privilegeтАФand perhaps her responsibility.
But you wouldn't know about that, would you? Responsibility has neverтАФ"
"Father, I have decided to go to Myrloch Vale and visit Robyn. I will leave as
soon as I can prepare," Tristan interrupted bluntly. He had contemplated the
idea several days earlier, but had not had the courage to tell the king. At
least, he thought, this argument had given him that fortitude.
"That is exactly what I mean! YouтАФ"
"Perhaps you're right about me," Tristan interrupted, leaning back to look at
his father. "After the adventures of last summer, the thought of spending my
days cooped upтАФ"
Suddenly, the door to the study crashed inward with a wood-splintering slam.
Tristan saw his father's eyes focus on the door, and then the king pushed
wildly at the back of Tristan's chair.
The prince heard several "clicks" and felt some sort of missile whir past his
head before his chair crashed backward onto the floor. The wind exploded from
his lungs, and a cold shock of panic washed over him, driving the last
vestiges of alcohol from his mind.
Instantly Tristan rolled from the chair, watching a silver dagger flash over
his head from where he lay on the floor. He saw his father pluck a slender
dart from his own shoulder, then pick up a wooden chair to block the attack of
a charging black figure.
Tristan sprang to his feet in time to meet another black figure face-to-face.
The face was covered by a terrifying black mask, and the body was cloaked all
over in black silk, but Tristan's eyes focused on the gleaming dagger that
seemed to reach forward, questing for his blood. Desperately the prince looked
around for a weapon, at the same time remembering his sword hanging ten feet
away. A low table separated him from the hearth.
Tristan feinted a lunge at his attacker and then dropped
DOUGLAS MILES
prone to roll under the table and spring to his feet. The attacker leaped over
the table at the same time, and his dagger cut a bloody nick in the prince's
ear. Tristan drew the weapon and continued the motion through a full turn,
driving the point deep into the attacker's chest before the intruder could
strike again.
Tristan saw his father stumble backward as another black-cloaked figure burst
through the door. Behind that one were several others. The prince kicked a
chair into the path of his new attacker, slowing him enough that he could pull
the king's boar spear from its place above the mantle.
"Father!" he cried, tossing the stout weapon sideways across the room.
Tristan leaped over the chair he had toppled, certain that the figure before
him, armed with two daggers, was no match for the gleaming Sword of Cymrych