"Brooks, Terry - First King of Shannara" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brooks Terry)

12 First King ofShannara

He squeezed gently. "I am very tired. Would you keep watch for a
few hours while I sleep? We can leave after that."

The Borderman nodded. "I'll keep watch."

The old man rose and moved deeper into the shadows beneath
the wide-boughed tree, where he settled down comfortably within
his robes on a soft patch of grass. Within minutes he was asleep,
his breathing deep and regular. Kinson stared down at him. Even
then, his eyes were not quite closed. From behind narrow slits,
there was a glimmer of light.

Like a cat, thought Kinson, looking away quickly. Like a dan-
gerous cat.

Time passed, and the night lengthened. Midnight came and
went. The moon dropped below the horizon, and the stars spun in
vast, kaleidoscopic patterns across the black. Silence lay heavy
and absolute over the Streleheim, and on the emptiness of the
plains nothing moved. Even within the trees where Kinson Raven-
lock kept watch, there was only the sound of the old man's
breathing.

The Borderman glanced down at his companion. Bremen, as
much an outcast as himself, alone in his beliefs, exiled for truths
that only he could accept.

They were alike in that regard, he thought. He was reminded of
their first meeting. The old man had come to him at an inn in
Varfleet, seeking his services. Kinson Ravenlock had been a
scout. Tracker, explorer, and adventurer for the better part of
twenty years, since the time he was fifteen. He had been raised in
Callahom, a part of its frontier life, a member of one of a handful
of families who had remained in the Borderlands when everyone
else had gone much farther south, distancing themselves from
their past. After the conclusion of the First War of the Races, when
the Druids had partitioned the Four Lands and left Paranor at the
crux, Man had determined to leave a buffer between itself and
the other Races. So while the Southland reached as far north as the
Dragon's Teeth, Man had abandoned almost everything above the
Rainbow Lake. Only a few Southland families had stayed on,
believing that this was their home, finding themselves unwilling to
move to the more populated areas of their assigned land. The
Ravenlocks had been one of these.

So Kinson had grown up as a Borderman, living on the edge of
civilization, but as comfortable with Elves, Dwarves, Gnomes,