"Sara Douglass - Redemption 3 - Crusader" - читать интересную книгу автора (Douglass Sara)

be safe forever from the axes and arrogance of the other two humanoid races. There was only one place
left in this existence where he could accomplish this.
The Sacred Groves.
There the Mother still dwelt, there the trees grew thick and magical, there the Horned Ones still
walked in power.
There, Isfrael could regain his place.
And perhaps ... perhaps Shra's soul had found its way there when she'd died.
"Hello," a gentle voice said behind him. "I often come here to think as well. It is a place of great
beauty and contentment, is it not?"
Isfrael whipped about, only barely managing to suppress a snarl of irritation.
Leagh stood there, her distended belly making her virginal white linen gown look ridiculous, and her
brown hair tumbling down about her shoulders and back as if she was trying to pretend to be a
Bane (how dare she!). Her eyes, the only part of her that demonstrated some sense, revealed her
trepidation.
She actually seemed to be waiting for a response, so Isfrael glanced about him. They were
standing in a small glade, a waterfall and rock pool to one side, and wildflowers spreading in drifts
through the short grasses of the open space.
"It's lovely," he said, and forced a smile.
Leagh relaxed a little, and she indicated a small pile of smooth-backed rocks beside the pool. "Will
you sit with me a while? I have not had a chance to talk to you before."
That is because you are a plains dweller and have not been welcomed in my forests, thought
Isfrael, but he sat anyway.
Leagh began to chat about innocuous pleasantries, and Isfrael replied in monosyllables whenever she
paused for an answer. By the Horned Ones, she actually seemed to be enjoying herself in this pastelised
version of the real, vibrant world! Isfrael would have got up and left — this woman was more than
annoying — but some part of him wondered if she might have some information that could help
him achieve his ends.
After all, wasn't she close to DragonStar? Might she not know something that had been
kept hidden from everyone else?
Once he'd thought of that, Isfrael paid more attention to Leagh herself. He began to reply
more pleasantly, leading the conversation himself, making the woman laugh with some of his tales of life in
Minstrelsea.
And Isfrael reaped rewards for his pains. After a short while Isfrael realised that there was
something profoundly unusual about Leagh. She was not just a "plains dweller"; she was
far
more. In fact, the way she moved, her smile, and the shift of her eyes made Isfrael realise that an
intriguing power played beneath the surface of her outwardly pleasant demeanour.
Leagh was as powerful, if not more so, than any of the Avar Banes had been!
But how could this be so? The Acharites had no access to power, had they?
Very gradually, and as carefully as he could, Isfrael started to redirect the conversation. He cloaked
himself in an aura of innocuousness —
Aren't the horns growing from my forehead cute? See the cloth of twigs that cloak my loins:
isn't that the most naively rural thing you ever saw? See my discomfort regarding my mother,
Faraday: doesn't that make you want to hug me and make it all better?
— and harvested the prize, for Leagh lost whatever initial caution she'd had, and talked and laughed
freely with him.
Yes, she had power now. Woken by DragonStar, although every Acharite had the potential for such
power within them.
 "What do you mean?" said Isfrael, furrowing his brow in muddled puzzlement.
"Well," said Leagh, and she told him of the original Enchantress, Urbeth —