"Терри Гудкайн. Восьмое правило волшебника, или Обнаженная Империя(engl) " - читать интересную книгу автораher.
Kahlan felt a forlorn wave of helplessness at all they faced. She knew what it was to be alone, afraid, and overwhelmed by powerful men filled with blind faith and the lust for blood, men devoutly believing that mankind's salvation required slaughter. "I'd give anything for her to know that it wasn't you who sent those men." Jennsen's soft voice held the dejected sum of what it was to have suffered such a loss, to have no solution to the crushing solitude it left in its wake. "I wish my mother could have known the truth, known what you two are really like." "She's with the good spirits and finally at peace," Kahlan whispered in sympathy, even if she now had reason to question the enduring validity of such things. Jennsen nodded as she swiped her fingers across her cheek. "What mistake did you make, Cara?" she finally asked. Rather than be angered by the question, and perhaps because it had been asked in innocent empathy, Cara answered with quiet candor. "It has to do with that little problem we mentioned before." "You mean it's about the thing you want me to touch?" By the light of the moon's narrow crescent, Kahlan could see Cara's scowl return. "And the sooner the better." Richard rubbed his fingertips across his brow. "I'm not sure about that." Kahlan, too, thought that Cara's notion was too simplistic. Cara threw her arms up. "But Lord Rahl, we can't just leave it--" command. "What we need right now is food and sleep." For once, Cara saw the sense in his orders and didn't object. When he had earlier been out scouting alone, she had confided in Kahlan that she was worried at how weary Richard looked and had suggested that, since there were enough other people, they shouldn't wake him for a turn at watch that night. "I'll check the area," Cara said, "and make sure there aren't any more of those birds sitting on a rock watching us with those black eyes of theirs." Jennsen peered around as if fearing that a black-tipped race might swoop in out of the darkness. Richard countermanded Cara's plans with a dismissive shake of his head. "They're gone for now." "You said they were tracking you." Jennsen stroked Betty's neck when the goat nudged her, seeking comfort. The twins were still hiding under their mother's round belly. "I never saw them before now. They weren't around yesterday, or today. They didn't show up until just this evening. If they really were tracking you, then they wouldn't be gone for such a stretch. They'd have to stick close to you all the time." "They can leave us for a time in order to hunt--or to make us doubt our suspicion of their true intent--and, even if we keep going, they can easily find us when they return. That's the advantage the black-tipped races have: they don't need to watch us every moment." Jennsen planted her fists on her hips. "Then how in the world could you possibly be sure they're tracking you?" She flicked a hand out toward the |
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