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

you shortly." He spoke with a slight lisp that Garion found peculiar.
"No hurry," Wolf said in a wheezy, cracking voice. Garion looked at him
sharply and was astonished to see that his friend was stooped and that his
head was nodding foolishly.
"See to their needs," the other man in the shop said shortly. He was a
dark, burly man wearing a chain-mail shirt and a short sword belted to his
waist. His cheekbones were high, and there were several savagelooking
scars on his face. His eyes looked curiously angular, and his voice was
harsh and thickly accented.
"No hurry," Wolf said in his wheezy cackle.
"My business.here will take some time," the Murgo said coldly, "and 1
prefer not to be rushed. Tell the merchant here what you need, old man."
"My thanks, then," Wolf cackled. "I have a list somewhere about me." He
began to fumble foolishly in his pockets. "My master drew it up. I do hope
you can read it, friend merchant, for I cannot." He finally found the list
and presented it to the Tolnedran.
The merchant glanced at the list. "This will only take a moment," he
told the Murgo.
The Murgo nodded and stood staring stonily at Wolf and Garion. His eyes
narrowed slightly, and his expression changed. "You're a seemly appearing
boy," he said to Garion. "What's your name?"
Until that moment, in his entire life, Garion had been an honest and
truthful boy, but Wolf's manner had opened before his eyes an entire world
of deception and subterfuge. Somewhere in the back of his mind he seemed
to hear a warning voice, a dry, calm voice advising him that the situation
was dangerous and that he should take steps to protect himself. He
hesitated only an instant before telling his first deliberate lie. He
allowed his mouth to drop open and his face to assume an expression of
vacantheaded stupidity. "Rundorig, your Honor," he mumbled.
"An Arendish name," the Murgo said, his eyes narrowing even more. "You
don't look like an Arend."
Garion gaped at him.
"Are you an Arend, Rundorig?" the Murgo pressed.
Garion frowned as if struggling with a thought while his mind raced.
The dry voice suggested several alternatives.
"My father was," he said finally, "but my mother is a Sendar, and
people say I favor her."
"You say was, " the Murgo said quickly. "Is your father dead, then?"
His scarred face was intent.
Garion nodded foolishly. "A tree he was cutting fell on him," he lied.
"It was a long time ago."
The Murgo suddenly seemed to lose interest. "Here's a copper penny for
you, boy," he said, indifferently tossing a small coin on the floor at
Garion's feet. "It has the likeness of the God Torak stamped on it.
Perhaps it will bring you luck-or at least more wit."
Wolf stooped quickly and retrieved the coin, but the coin he handed to
Garion was a common Sendarian penny.
"Thank the good man, Rundorig," he wheezed.
"My thanks, your Honor," Garion said, concealing the penny tightly in
his fist.