"Irene Radford - Merlins Descendents 01 - Guardian Of The Balance" - читать интересную книгу автора (Radford Irene)

the abyss receded as the tide. тАЬNext time, we will not forgive. Next timeтАжтАЭ LleuтАЩs words faded into a breath of wind.
Myrddin fingered the suddenly heavy torc returned to his neck. тАЬI need the child,тАЭ Dana whispered into his mind.
тАЬThe child is why I tempted you. Your descendants form an important part of the pattern of life. Remember your
promise in the faery ring.тАЭ

Chapter 1
тАЬCuryll!тАЭ I jumped up and down in excitement. My friend trudged up the hill toward Da and me. Our summer-long trek
through Britain was over. Da and I would spend the cold months with CuryllтАЩs foster father, Lord Ector. As we had all
eight winters of my life.
Autumn had come early this year. I awoke this morning to find dew had frosted on my blanket. The rags binding my
feet barely kept the frost off my toes as we walked the final league to Lord EctorтАЩs home outside Deva. The air smelled
of cold, wet, salt.
тАЬWinter chases the wind like a hound on the heels of a hare,тАЭ I sang, trying very hard to make my voice sound like the
wind in the trees. Da did that much better than I.
I didnтАЩt want to think about the many hundreds of people who had no shelter or food this winter. Here in the
Northwest we were secure from Saxon raiders. Soon I would be warm and safe. Safe from the Saxons and from the
Christians who threw rocks at Da and me.
Four huge hunting dogs galloped around my friend Curyll in circles that moved forward and sideways at the same
time. As usual, the three brown hounds looked to the larger, shaggy black-and-gray Brenin as their leader. Brenin
looked to Curyll for direction.
Joy at finding my friend alive when storm, disease, and Saxon raiders claimed so many, wasnтАЩt enough to warm me. I
longed for the heat of kitchen firesтАФany fire, even one of my own making. But Da didnтАЩt allow me to show off that
trick. My bouncing almost warmed my nearly numb feet while I rubbed my fingers against my hide cloak. IтАЩd missed
Curyll terribly this past summer. Curyll lifted a hand in mute greeting to us. He had another name, one that I could
never remember. I didnтАЩt want to remember our real names and didnтАЩt like my own.
Real names are what parents use when they are angry at you. IтАЩd seen my Da in a rage once. I didnтАЩt want to see him
that way ever again. тАЬAnother half hour to Lord EctorтАЩs stronghold, little Wren. Then weтАЩll be warm,тАЭ Da said. His
deep voice seemed to sing each word. He didnтАЩt need the harp he carried in a satchel on his back to make music. But
everyone recognized the harp as a symbol that transformed us from beggars to bards. I had learned eight fun ballads
this past summer. One for each year of my lifeтАФnot quite the nine complex history ballads required to call myself a
bard. Four of my songs I could sing all by myselfтАФthe other four I needed a little help remembering all the words and
to cover the notes I couldnтАЩt quite reach. Maybe tonight Da would ask me to sing a solo.
тАЬBlow your nose, Wren.тАЭ Da handed me a square of almost clean linen. He wasnтАЩt angry that my nose ran with the
cold or that I had fussed and whined all afternoon.
тАЬThe Wind whistles through the heather, telling tales of the cold ocean sharpening its teeth.тАЭ I chanted a line from
another ballad. The tune didnтАЩt come out of my raw throat as easily as before.
Clear blue skies sparkled in the afternoon sun. But the weight of clouds building to the West gave me a headache.
Damp salt in the air burned the raw patches on my nose. By sunset the storms would come. We would be snug and
dry in Lord EctorтАЩs fortress before the rain beat the last of the harvest into the ground.
Da folded my small hands in his huge ones and rubbed some feeling into my fingertips. This gesture of love did more
to warm me than bright fires. тАЬMay I ride on the back of Brenin, Da?тАЭ I asked politely.
тАЬYou are much too big, my Wren.тАЭ
тАЬI rode him last year.тАЭ I tried very hard not to thrust out my lower lip and screw up my eyes in an ugly face. I used to
do that all the time until Da made me look into a still pool so I could see what I looked like. Ugly. Scary. I saw more in
the pool than my own scowl. I saw Gwaed, the god of blood, Tanio, the element of fire, and myself grown old and sad.
But I didnтАЩt tell Da that. I didnтАЩt want to scare him.
тАЬHo, M-Merlin!тАЭ CuryllтАЩs voice echoed across the moors. I didnтАЩt expect my friend to say anything and was surprised
at the clarity of his words. Had he practiced speaking with one of his foster brothers? Most likely Lancelot the stinging
bee, CuryllтАЩs best friend in the world. But if Stinger was busy, then probably Bedewyr, Ceffyl the horse as we called
him, or Cai the nearsighted boar had listened politely while Curyll formed each word with time-consuming care. Of all of