"David Eddings. Castle of wizardry enchanters' end game (The Belgariad, Part two)" - читать интересную книгу автора

Garion eventually found unsettling. At the same time he found himself a
bit surprised that so much of what the princess had said and done had
stuck so firmly in his memory.
"Garion," Aunt Pol said, "what is the matter with you? I told you to
hold onto the child. Pay attention. This isn't the time for daydreaming."
"I wasn't. I was-" How could he explain it?
"You were what?"
"Nothing." They moved on, and there were periodic tremors as the earth
settled uneasily. The huge basalt pinnacle swayed and groaned each time
the earth shuddered and convulsed under its base; and at each new quiver,
they stopped, almost fearing to breathe.
"How far down have we come?" Silk asked, looking around nervously.
"A thousand feet perhaps," Relg replied.
"That's all? We'll be penned up in here for a week at this rate."
Relg shrugged his heavy shoulders. "It will take as long as it takes,"
he said in his harsh voice as they moved on.
There were Murgos in the next gallery, and another nasty little fight
in the darkness. Mandorallen was limping when he came back, "Why didn't
you wait for me as I told you to?" Barak demanded crossly.
Mandorallen shrugged. "They were but three, my Lord."
"There's just no point in trying to talk to you, do you know that?"
Barak sounded disgusted.
"Are you all right?" Polgara asked the knight.
"A mere scratch, my Lady," Mandorallen replied indifferently. "It is of
no moment."
The rock floor of the gallery shuddered and heaved again, and the
booming noise echoed up through the caves.
They all stood frozen, but the uneasy movement of the earth subsided
after a few moments.
They moved steadily downward through the passageways and caves. The
aftershocks of the earthquake that had shattered Rak Cthol and sent
Ctuchik's turret crashing to the floor of the wasteland of Murgos
continued at intervals. At one point, hours later it seemed, a party of
Murgos, perhaps a dozen strong, passed through a gallery not far ahead,
their torches casting flickering shadows on the walls and their harsh
voices echoing. After a brief, whispered conference, Barak and Mandorallen
let them go by unmolested and unaware of the ternble violence lurking in
the shadows not twenty yards away. After they were out of earshot, Relg
uncovered his light again and selected yet another passageway. They moved
on, descending, twisting, zigzagging their way down through the caves
toward the foot of the pinnacle and the dubious safety of the wasteland
which lay outside.
While the song of the Orb did not diminish in any way, Garion was at
least able to think as he followed Silk along the twisting passageways
with the little boy in his arms. He thought that perhaps it was because he
had grown at least partially accustomed to it - or maybe its attention was
concentrated on one of the others.
They had done it; that was the amazing thing. Despite all the odds
against them, they had retrieved the Orb. The search that had so abruptly
interrupted his quiet life at Faldor's farm was over, but it had changed