"David Eddings. Pawn of prophecy queen of sorcery magician's gambit (The Belgariad, Part one)" - читать интересную книгу автора

speaking, but always watching. There was in that silent scrutiny a kind of
cold animosity curiously mingled with something that was almost, but not
quite, fear. Then Doroon whimpered, and Garion turned back.
Carefully he bound the injured arm across the front of Doroon's body
with his rope belt, and then he and Rundorig helped the injured boy to his
feet.
"At least he could have helped us," Garion said resentfully.
"Who?" Rundorig said, looking around.

Garion turned to point at the dark-cloaked man, but the rider was gone.
"I didn't see anyone," Rundorig said.
"It hurts," Doroon said.
"Don't worry," Garion said. "Aunt Pol will fix it."
And so she did. When the three appeared at the door of her kitchen, she
took in the situation with a single glance.
"Bring him over here," she told them, her voice not even excited. She
set the pale and violently trembling boy on a stool near one of the ovens
and mixed a tea of several herbs taken from earthenware jars on a high
shelf in the back of one of her pantries.
"Drink this," she instructed Doroon, handing him a steaming mug.
"Will it make my arm well?" Doroon asked, suspiciously eyeing the
evil-smelling brew.
"Just drink it," she ordered, laying out some splints and linen strips.
"Ick! It tastes awful," Doroon said, making a face.
"It's supposed to," she told him. "Drink it all."
"I don't think I want any more," he said.
"Very well," she said. She pushed back the splints and took down a
long, very sharp knife from a hook on the wall.
"What are you going to do with that?" he demanded shakily.
"Since you don't want to take the medicine," she said blandly, "I guess
it'll have to come off."
"Off?" Doroon squeaked, his eyes bulging.
"Probably about right there," she said, thoughtfully touching his arm
at the elbow with the point of the knife.
Tears coming to his eyes, Doroon gulped down the rest of the liquid and
a few minutes later he was nodding, almost drowsing on his stool. He
screamed once, though, when Aunt Pol set the broken bone, but after the
arm had been wrapped and splinted, he drowsed again. Aunt Pol spoke
briefly with the boy's frightened mother and then had Durnik carry him up
to bed.
"You wouldn't really have cut off his arm," Garion said.
Aunt Pol looked at him, her expression unchanging. "Oh?" she said, and
he was no longer sure. "I think I'd like to have a word with Mistress
Zubrette now," she said then.
"She ran away when Doroon fell out of the tree," Garion said.
"Find her."
"She's hiding," Garion protested. "She always hides when something goes
wrong. I wouldn't know where to look for her."
"Garion," Aunt Pol said, "I didn't ask you if you knew where to look. I
told you to find her and bring her to me."