"Books - David Eddings - Belgarath the Sorcerer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Eddings David)

"Make a note of that, Durnik," Belgarath advised.

"Not waking those babies is likely to become your main purpose in life
for the next several months."

Durnik smiled briefly and went into the bedroom with Poledra.

"You shouldn't tease him that way, Grandfather," Garion chided.

"I wasn't teasing, Garion. Sleep's very rare in a house with twins.
One of them always seems to be awake. Would you like something to
drink? I think I can probably find Pol's beer barrel."

"She'll pull out your beard if she catches you in her pantry."

"She isn't going to catch me, Garion. She's too busy being a mother
right now." The old man crossed the room to the pantry and began
rummaging around.

Garion pulled off his cloak, hung it on a wooden peg, and went back to
the fireplace. His feet still felt cold. He looked up at the
latticework of rafters overhead. It was easy to see that Durnik had
crafted them. The smith's meticulous attention to detail showed in
everything he did. The rafters were exposed over this central room,
but there was a loft over the bedroom and a flight of stairs reaching
up to it along the back wall.

"Found it," Belgarath called triumphantly from the pantry.

"She tried to hide it behind the flour barrel."

Garion smiled. His grandfather could probably find a beer cask in the
dark at the bottom of a coal mine.

The old man came out with three brimming tankards, set them down on the
table, and moved a chair around until it faced the fireplace. Then he
took one of the tankards, sat, and stretched his feet out toward the
fire.

"Pull up a chair, Garion," he invited.

"We might as well be comfortable."

Garion did that.

"It's been quite a night," he said.

"That it has, boy," the old man replied.