"Douglas Niles - Forgotten Realms - Moonshae 03 - Darkwell" - читать интересную книгу автора (Niles Douglas)

mass of rolling swells, broken only by the foaming crests of the waves. The
sky matched the water, a gray blanket of cold pressing heavily from horizon to
horizon.
Overhead, the sail filled with air, spurring the ship across whitecaps and
through deep troughs. Then the wind shifted, and the sail fell limp. The
vessel slid crazily to the side, dropping between two rolling swells. A line
drew taut as the boom swung across the stern. Two sailors dropped prone, while
others hauled on a heavy rope until the sail once again billowed. The bow of
the boat swung to port, angling across the waves on a slightly altered course.
Tristan Kendrick, heir to the throne of Corwell, stood in the bow of the
Defiant and relished the cool spray against his face. It ran through his beard
and soaked his heavy wool cloak. His feet were planted in a wide stance, and
he swayed evenly with the rolling deck beneath his feet.
The ship lunged eagerly through the next swell, and the one after that. Each
wave brought him and his companions closer to Corwell Firth and the castle on
the little knoll, Caer Corwell.
Home.
Just a few short weeks ago, Tristan reflected, his first ocean voyage had
carried him across this same water. Then, he had embarked on a mission of
politics, to seek his coronation from the High King. Now he carried the crown
of that
DARK WELL
same kingтАФthe Crown of the IslesтАФand he returned in triumph to his home. He
knew he should be feeling joy and anticipation, but he could not.
He felt, rather than saw, a warm presence beside him and turned to see Robyn.
Though she had slept little and eaten less during the past week, she had never
looked so vibrant and alive. Her black hair, long and falling loosely around
her shoulders and back, glowed with an ebony sheen, and her green eyes flashed
with vitality. Her beauty increased every day, or so thought the king.
The druid joined him in the bow but avoided his eyes. He wanted to reach out,
to put his arm around her, but he feared her rebuff.
"We'll be there soonтАФno more than two days, three at the most." He tried to
offer encouragement, sensing her despair.
"But what will we find when we get there? What if we're too late?"
"We won't be! And whatever we find, we can best it! Ibgether, with my sword
and your faith, we can rid Gwyn-neth of any shade of evil!"
"I hope so." Robyn leaned against him and he held her, sensing the deep and
spiritual fear that haunted her. He felt a vague sense of guilt for the time
they had remained on the island of Callidyrr. He had known that she wanted to
leave immediately following the defeat of the High King. Robyn feared deeply
for the fate of her fellow druids, imprisoned as stone statues around the
scene of their final battle.
Yet he could not have left then. And she had chosen to remain with him, rather
than embark for home alone or with Lord Pontswain, who had taken the first
available ship back to Corwell.
"I'm glad you stayed with me," he said. "I can't imagine facing the kingship
without you beside me."
He thought of the many problems he had solved during his week in Callidyrr. He
had settled an old dispute on fishing rights between the cantrevs of Llewellyn
and Kythyss. He had pardoned the bandits of Dernail Forest, good men and women