"Gray, Julia - Guardian 01 - The Dark Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gray Julia)

'I escaped.'
'Resourceful as well as bright,' the carter commented approvingly. 'I'm glad I stopped for you.'
Terrel had had enough of this discussion, and sought to change the subject.
'What is your trade . . . Your Majesty?'
Babak laughed.
'A sense of humour too,' he said delightedly. 'We must try to persuade this one to stay with us a while, eh, Luci?' This remark was directed to the donkey, who pricked up her ears at the sound of her name, but did not look round or alter her steady pace.
'You don't mind me being nosy?' Terrel asked.
'Not at all. Seems only fair. I prefer to think of myself as an apothecary - and one of rare talents at that - but most of my customers would call me a pedlar, and I wouldn't disown the name. It's an honourable profession.'
'What do you sell?' Terrel wasn't sure what an apothecary was.
'Whatever is to hand,' Babak replied, 'but mainly elixirs, potions, ointments and tinctures. There's hardly a human ailment I don't have a remedy for.'
'So you're a physician?'
'Of sorts.'
'Do you make your medicines yourself?'
'Mostly. I purchase some from other reputable sources.' This was said with a sly grin that Terrel could not interpret.
'What's in them?'
'You are nosy, aren't you,' the pedlar said, but then went on to answer the question anyway. 'Various essences, herbs, roots, honey and other natural ingredients. The exact recipes are secret, of course.'
'And these things can really cure people?'
Babak glanced at his passenger again, trying to see if he was really as serious as he sounded.
'Look, Terrel. Most people want to believe that they're beautiful, that they're intelligent, that they'll never grow old, and that their illnesses will be cured. All I do is encourage those beliefs. Understand?'
Terrel took some time to consider this statement.
'So you're a-' he began eventually.
'An apothecary,' Babak cut in. 'I told you what my potions are made from, but the most important ingredient is faith. If my patients believe they're going to get well, then they do. The human mind is a wonderful physician. I just help it to work. And if by any chance it doesn't, then the other essential part of my medicines comes into play.'
'What's that?'
'Alcohol. If the cure isn't effective, at least they're too happy to notice until I'm well on my way.' Babak grinned again, while Terrel stared at him.
'No wonder you stay on the move,' the boy said.
The pedlar laughed.
'I travel because I wouldn't want to live any other way,' he said. 'And I'm welcome anywhere.'
'Even somewhere you've been before and-'
'Everywhere,' Babak confirmed. 'You'll see. Whatever you think of me now, I do more good than harm - and how many people can say that?'
Terrel thought about this for a while. Part of him could not believe that people were so gullible, but then if Babak's cure-alls really did some good, what was the harm in that? He was also thinking about his own naivete, and realized that if he'd known more about the world, the pedlar's cynicism would have seemed less shocking. And the strange thing was that Terrel's feelings towards Babak had not changed. He liked him, even if he was a swindler.
'Are all your potions back there?' he asked curiously, glancing round at the cart. Its contents were covered with canvas sheeting, neatly secured with ropes.
'Yes. That and my bed roll and a few essentials for the wanderer's life.'
'Aren't you afraid of thieves, travelling alone like this?'
'No one would be stupid enough to rob an apothecary,' Babak replied confidently. 'They all know I can make them worse as well as better. The curse of a pedlar is not to be taken lightly. Besides, I'm handy with a knife if I need to be - but the best way to combat trouble is to avoid it in the first place. That's my speciality. That, and ridding the world of evils such as warts, impotence, hair loss, the pox and such like.'
'Do you have anything that'll cure my eyes?' Terrel asked, laughing now, amused by Babak's supreme confidence.
'As it happens, I do,' Babak said merrily, 'but it doesn't come from any of my bottles. You have a gift for it, lad, just like me. I knew that the moment I saw you.'
'A gift for what?' Terrel asked.
'The glamour,' Babak replied, then turned to gaze at his passenger.
As Terrel watched, the pedlar's eyes turned from dark brown to a bright pale blue.

Chapter Twenty-Four

'How did you do that?' Terrel gasped.
'Do what?' Babak replied, grinning. He turned away again, but Terrel could see that his eyes had returned to their normal colour.
'Your eyes were blue! Just for a moment. I saw-'
'Are you sure?'
Terrel hesitated. What had he seen? An illusion? A reflection of the sky? Or had he simply imagined the whole thing? It seemed unreal now, like the memory of a fading dream.
'The glamour?' he hazarded.
Babak nodded.
'My eyes didn't change colour, but you thought they did, because you wanted to. I just helped the process along.'