"Nancy Springer - Isle 03 - The Sable Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Springer Nancy)

of the old order that only man sometimes leavesтАФso how could the wolves turn against him? They had
attacked him like brigands. . . . Pale and sweating, he closed his eyes, laid his head on Arundel's neck.
He felt Meg's thin arms around his shoulders, trying to steady him, but he knew he would slip away. . . .
He heard a cry from Rafe, then nothing more.

He awoke hours later to find himself tucked into a monstrous sickbed. At Rate's stronghold, he knew,
because he saw that same lord seated beside him. "Have you nothing better to do?" he mumbled.

Rafe smiled. "How do you feel?"

Burns stung him, seemingly to the bone, even before he



moved. He hoisted himself painfully. "Confounded. Not long ago I hated snow. Now I could go out and
roll in the stuff. I take it you've cauterized the wounds."

"Ay, we've had to brand you, lad." Rafe pulled back the sheet, reached into a bucket at his feet, and
piled mounds of snow on Trevyn's legs and shoulders. "You've slept for five hours or so. Could you
manage more?"

"Hardly!" Trevyn supported himself gingerly on one elbow. "I don't remember much. Did I make a fool
of myself?"

"Nay, indeed! You were in a dead faintтАФlay like a felled tree. By my troth, I don't think I could have
done it otherwise."

Startled, Trevyn glanced up to see tears sliding silently down Rafe's rugged face. He reached out to
touch the older man's hand.

"Rafe, you must be spent. Get some rest. I don't need a nursemaid."

"I'm sorry, Trev," said Rafe wretchedly. "But how am I to feel? Meg told us about those wolves, and
they must have been mad, rabid. What ifтАФ" Rafe gulped to a stop.

"They were not rabid."

"If you die," Rafe blurted, "it will mean more than the loss of one that I love."

"They were not rabid. You are worrying for nothing, Rafe. I am not likely to die from a few bites."
Trevyn felt the touch of a shadow and lay back wearily. Still, he spoke with assurance. Rafe studied him,
mindful of the visionary powers of the Lauerocs.

"You are not just saying that. You are quite certain."

"Of course." But Trevyn did not tell Rafe why he knew he would take no harm from his wounds. The big
wolf, it seemed, had plans that they should meet again. Unpleasant as the thought was, it afforded some
solace. Luck, in the form of Meg, had seen him through the first encounter. And the next tune he would
somehow be better prepared.