"Terry Brooks - Landover 02 - The Black Unicorn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brooks Terry)

"The lake country. There are some there who may be able to help me."

"Would you consider waiting for me until I return from my own journey so that I might go with you?"

The sea green eyes were steady. "Would you wait instead for me, Ben?"

He squeezed her hand gently in reply. "No, I guess not. But you are under my care, nevertheless, and I don't wish you to go alone. In fact, I don't wish either Questor or you to go alone. Some sort of protection may prove necessary. Bunion will go with one of you, and Parsnip with the other. No, don't argue with me," he continued quickly, seeing words of protest forming on the lips of the sylph and the wizard both. "Your journeys could prove dangerous."

"And yours as well, High Lord," Questor pointed out. Ben nodded. "Yes, I realize that. But our circumstances are different. I can take no one with me from this world into the other - at least not without raising more than a few eyebrows - and it is in the other world that such danger as might threaten me awaits. I will have to be my own protector on this outing."

Besides, the medallion he wore about his neck was protection enough, he thought. He let his fingers stray down the front of his tunic to the medallion's hard outline. Ironically, Meeks had given him the medallion when he had sold him the kingship - the key to the magic that was now his. Only the bearer could be recognized as King. Only the bearer could pass through the fairy mists from Landover to the worlds beyond and back again. And only the bearer could summon and command the services of the invincible armored champion known as the Paladin.

He traced the image of the knight-errant riding out from the gates of Sterling Silver against the sunrise. The secret of the Paladin was his alone. Even Meeks had never understood the full extent of the medallion's power or its connection with the Paladin.

He smiled tightly. Meeks had thought himself so clever. He had used the medallion to pass over into Ben's world and then let himself be trapped there. What the old wizard wouldn't give to get that medallion back now!

The smile faded. But that would never happen, of course. No one but the bearer could remove the medallion once it was in place - and Ben never took it off. Meeks was no longer any threat to him.

Yet somewhere at the back of his mind, almost buried in the wall of determination that buttressed everything to which he committed himself, a tiny fragment of doubt tugged in warning.

"Well, it appears that there is nothing I can say on the matter that will change your minds," Abernathy declared to the room at large, drawing Ben's attention back again. The dog peered at him over the rims of his glasses, pushed the spectacles farther up on his nose, and assumed the posture of a rejected prophet. "So be it. When will you depart. High Lord?"

There was an awkward silence. Ben cleared his throat. "The quicker I go, the quicker I can return."

Willow rose and stood before him. Her arms went about his waist, drawing him close. They held each other for a moment as the others watched. Ben could feel something stir in the sylph's slender body - a kind of shiver that whispered of unspoken fears.

"I imagine it would be best if we all got about our business," Questor Thews said quietly.

No one replied. The silence was enough. Dawn was already stretching into midmorning and there was a shared need to make use of the day ahead.

"Come back safe to me, Ben Holiday," Willow spoke into his shoulder.

Abernathy heard the admonishment and glanced away. "Come back safe to us all," he said.



Ben did not waste any time in setting out.

He retired directly to his bedroom after departing the dining hall and packed the duffel he had brought with him from the old world with the few possessions he felt he would need. He changed back into the navy blue sweat suit and Nikes he had worn over. The clothes and shoes felt odd after Landover's apparel, but comfortable and reassuringly familiar. He was going back at last, he thought as he changed. He was finally going to do it.

He went from the bed chamber down a set of back stairs and through a number of private halls to a small courtyard just off the front gates where the others waited. The morning sun shone from a cloudless blue sky against the white stone of the castle, flashing in blinding streaks where it caught the silver trim. Warmth eased from the earth of the island on which Sterling Silver sat and gave the day a lazy feel. Ben breathed the freshness of the day and felt the castle stir in response beneath his feet.

He locked hand to wrist firmly with the kobolds Bunion and Parsnip, returned Abernathy's stiff, formal bow, embraced Questor, and kissed Willow with a passion usually reserved for deepest night. There was not much talking. All the talking had already been done. Abernathy again warned against Meeks, and this time Questor cautioned him as well.

"Be careful, High Lord," the wizard advised, one hand gripping Ben's shoulder as if to hold him back. "Though shut in a foreign world, my half-brother is not entirely shorn of his magic. He is still a dangerous enemy. Watch out for him."

Ben promised he would. He walked with them through the gates, past the sentries stationed on day watch and down to the shore's edge. His horse waited on the far bank, a bay gelding he had named Jurisdiction. It was his private joke that wherever he traveled on horseback, he always had Jurisdiction. No one other than himself understood what he was talking about.

A squad of mounted soldiers waited there as well. Abernathy had insisted that within the kingdom, at least, Landover's King would not travel without adequate protection.