"David Eddings - The Dreamers 02 - The Treasured One" - читать интересную книгу автора (Eddings David)


And so it was that we turned aside from the lands of the sunset and fixed our
attention on the land of longer summers where the two-legged ones produce food
from the ground and where there is much room, for food and space will surely once
again stir our Vlagh’s urge to spawn, and the overmind will grow, even surpassing
what it had been before the mountains of the land of the sunset had reduced it, and
that will bring joy to all of us, for we all share the benefits of the increase of the
overmind.

And surely the time will come when all the lands of the man-things shall be ours,
and we shall grow to numbers beyond counting, and our overmind shall expand until
all knowledge is ours - and the world as well.

And only then will we be content.
The Dream Of Ashad

During the course of my many cycles I’ve grown very fond of the mountains of my
Domain. There’s a beauty in the mountains that no other kind of country can possibly
match. My sister Zelana loves the sea in much the same way, I suppose, but I don’t
think the sea can ever match mountain country. Mountain air is clean and pure, and
the eternal snow on the peaks seems to increase that purity.

Over the endless eons I’ve discovered that a mountain sunrise gives me the most
delicious light I’ve ever tasted, so whenever possible I go up to the shoulder of Mount
Shrak at first light to drink in the beauty of the sunrise. No matter what happens later
in the day, the taste of a mountain sunrise gives me a serenity that nothing else can
provide.

It was on a day in the late spring of the year when the creatures of the Wasteland
had made their futile attempt to seize sister Zelana’s Domain and had been met by
Eleria’s flood and Yaltar’s twin volcanos that I went out of my cave under Mount
Shrak to greet the morning sun.

When I reached my customary feasting place, I saw that there was a cloud bank off
to the east, and that always makes the sunrise even more glorious.

I looked around at the nearby mountains, and it seemed that summer was moving
up into my Domain a bit more slowly than usual, and last winter’s snow was still
stubbornly clinging to the lower ridges. It occurred to me that this might be a sign of
one of those periodic climate changes which appear much more frequently than the
people who serve us seem to realize. The temperatures on the face of Father Earth are
never really constant. They’re subject almost entirely to the whims of Mother Sea,
and if Mother’s feeling chilly, Father will get a lot of snow. That can go on for
centuries.

After I’d considered the possibility, though, I dismissed the notion. Zelana had
tampered with the weather extensively during the past winter to delay the invasion of
her Domain by the servants of the Vlagh until her hired army arrived from the land of
Maag, and it might take a while for things to go back to normal.