"Brian Thomsen - The Nobles 04 - The Mage in the Iron Mask" - читать интересную книгу автора (Thomsen Brian M)

Donal cursed the chill of the night air, as he checked the hiding place for the pack that
held all of his worldly possessions. Everything was in order, and he hoped that the escort
would arrive promptly. It had not been easy to manipulate the schedule so that the young
mage-in-training, Rassendyll, would follow him on watch duty, nor had he been able to make
all of the necessary other preparations without alerting any of the Retreat's brethren to his
machi-nations and preoccupations.
 The drug was already in the jug of ale that the watch was allowed to partake of to ward off
some of the night's chill, and Donal had made sure that Rassendyll's meal had been well
salted earlier that evening. Once he had been relieved of duty, Donal would join his pack in
hiding, and wait for his suc-cessor on guard duty to nod off by the sleep draught, at which
point he would be free to open the gate, and meet his expected escort.
Donal had just returned to his place at the gate, when an eager young wizard crept up
behind him.
"Boo," the young mage said, startling the older wizard. "Hope I'm not late."
Donal closed his eyes, and bit his tongue to hold back a curse or incantation of rebuke
for the young wizard. After less than a moment's hesitation, he turned around, and warmly
confronted the young wizard who would prove to be the means of his deliv-erance unto
safety and prosperity.
"My dear Rassendyll," Donal fawned, "you gave me such a fright."
"Sorry, magister," the younger wizard replied, ob-viously repentant for his previous action,
"but I have also shown up early for my watch."
"How thoughtful of you," Donal replied, hoping that he had succeeded in removing all
traces of sar-casm from his words despite the intent that existed in abundance within.
"It's all right," Rassendyll replied, "I couldn't sleep anyway. My mouth has been
exceptionally dry since evening meal, and no matter how many trips I've made to the well, my
throat still remains parched."
A little bit of salt and some Thayan spices usually have that effect on you, Donal replied in
his thoughts, and then said out loud. "Why don't you try a sip of ale? I seem to recall a land of
miners where all forms of spirited beverages were outlawed except for ale, and do you know
why?"
"No, magister," the younger wizard replied, fear-ing that he had just re-entered some
imaginary classroom in the mind of the older wizard whose kindest of nicknames was
"doddering Donal."
"Because it was the only thing that would slake their thirst after a dusty day in the mines,
that's why," Donal replied, then added, "so drink up."
"Care to join me?" the younger wizard offered, jug already in hand.
"I think not," Donal replied, then adding to avoid all suspicions, "I am heading to bed, and,
at my age, beverages have a way of making themselves the most temporary and
inconsiderate of houseguests."
"Come again magister?"
"They like to come and go as they please, and quite often at that," Donal replied with a
chuckle.
"Enjoy your rest."
"And you yours," Donal replied heading back to his cell. "And you yours."
*****
When Donal had passed the corner of the inner hall and was thus obscured from the
watchful eyes of the younger wizard, he quickly took to the shadows and secreted himself in
his hiding spot, out of sight, but well within earshot. In no time at all, he heard the sound of
his future salvation: Rassendyll's snor-ing, and the whistle of a lark.
The lark is one of Faerun's most common birds of the morn, and since it was still well into