"Roger Taylor - Hawklan 4 - Into Narsindal" - читать интересную книгу автора (Taylor Roger)

тАШSome part of all of us is Uhriel.тАЩ AndawyrтАЩs eyes widened. That phrase too, was one his teacher had
used, but it was one he had not recalled for a long time.

He closed his eyes and tried to let the topic go. The debate was an old one amongst the Cadwanwr, and
none disagreed in principle with AndawyrтАЩs thinking, though the consensus was that the revered Head of
the Order was a little over-zealous in his reluctance to use the Power for minor matters.

Andawyr smiled to himself as he felt the warmth of the stones on his face. He had seen the
unsuccessfully hidden looks of patient tolerance, not to say irritation, as he had scratched vainly at stones
in the past, or struggled with some heavy burden тАУ and made others struggle with him тАУ instead of lifting it
theeasy way!

Yet they too were right. It was a mistake to be too zealous in avoiding the use of the Old Power. Why
should he have even hesitated here in this biting cold, where failure to ignite the stones might have proved
fatal for him?

Balance, he thought. ThatтАЩs all it is. Balance. Too much either way is wrong. But where was the
balance? Only one thing was certain: the route to it lay along no easy path. Always judgement had to be
used, and always judgement was flawed in some degree.

His thoughts began to wander as the dayтАЩs walking and the last hoursтАЩ increasingly anxious toiling began
to take their toll.

тАШGтАЩnight, Dar,тАЩ he muttered faintly, but there was no reply.

Twice he jerked awake suddenly as the dark horror of his journey out of Narsindal came briefly and
vividly into his deepening sleep. This happened almost every night, though much less so now than when
he had first returned. He bore it with a snarl. тАШI survived the deed, I refuse to fear its shadowтАЩ, was the
sword and buckler he reached for whenever he found himself hesitating to close his eyes.

The third time, however, it was no fearful memory that awoke him. It was the entrance to his tent being
torn open and a body crashing in, accompanied by whirling flurries of snow and the icy blast of the storm.

Instantly bolt upright, his heart racing, Andawyr raised his hand to defend himself against this apparition.
No hesitation to use the Old Power when it mattered, he noted briefly. However, a mere glance showed
that the intruder not only held no weapon, but was exhausted. Not a threat, he realized.

тАШUnless itтАЩs to freeze me to death,тАЩ he muttered out loud. Hastily he seized the body and, with a great
effort, dragged it into the tent, nearly upsetting the radiant stones in the process.

As he sealed the entrance again, a hand clutched at him. He turned with a start, ready again to defend
himself.

тАШMy horse,тАЩ said the new arrival, his voice very weak. тАШMy horse.тАЩ

Andawyr looked at the snow-covered figure and the few small flakes still whirling around the tent in the
light of the glowing stones.

тАШPlease,тАЩ said the figure, weakly but urgently.