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

"A very bad one. From now on leave thinking to grown-ups." She was
still holding his ear.
"Anything you say," he agreed hastily.
Later that night, however, when they lay in their beds in the quiet
darkness, he approached the problem obliquely.
"Aunt Pol?"
"Yes?"
"Since you don't want to marry Durnik, whom do you want to marry?"
"Garion," she said.
"Yes?"
"Close your mouth and go to sleep."
"I think I've got a right to know," he said in an injured tone.
"Garion!"
"All right. I'm going to sleep, but I don't think you're being very
fair about all this."
She drew in a deep breath. "Very well," she said. "I'm not thinking of
getting married. I have never thought of getting married and I seriously
doubt that I'll ever think of getting married. I have far too many
important things to attend to for any of that."
"Don't worry, Aunt Pol," he said, wanting to put her mind at ease.
"When I grow up, I'll marry you."
She laughed then, a deep, rich laugh, and reached out to touch his face
in the darkness. "Oh no, my Garion," she said. "There's another wife in
store for you."
"Who?" he demanded.
"You'll find out," she said mysteriously. "Now go to sleep."
"Aunt Pol?"

"Yes?"
"Where's my mother?" It was a question he had been meaning to ask for
quite some time.
There was a long pause, then Aunt Pol sighed.
"She died," she said quietly.
Garion felt a sudden wrenching surge of grief, an unbearable anguish.
He began to cry.
And then she was beside his bed. She knelt on the floor and put her
arms around him. Finally, a long time later, after she had carried him to
her own bed and held him close until his grief had run its course, Garion
asked brokenly, "What was she like? My mother?"
"She was fair-haired," Aunt Pol said, "and very strong and very
beautiful. Her voice was gentle, and she was very happy."
"Did she love me?"
"More than you could imagine."
And then he cried again, but his crying was quieter now, more regretful
than anguished.
Aunt Pol held him closely until he cried himself to sleep.
There were other children on Faldor's farm, as was only natural in a
community of sixty or so. The older ones on the farm all worked, but there
were three other children of about Garion's age on the freeholding. These
three became his playmates and his friends.