"Beverly Henderson - Stormcrow and The Deer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Henderson Beverly)

great aim, more for terror than for damage. Yet still, there were screams
from the encampment. Looking over her shoulder, she turned back to the
encampment. Letting her mind race toward the forest that had been her
home once, searching for minds with a familiar, dreaded touch, she found
what she was seeking and quietly, urgently prodded them toward the
human camp. A hundred, eager, hungry minds converged on the outskirts
of the camp, their eyes glowing in the darkness. A howl arose around the
perimeter of the camp carried by a chorus of wolfish voices. Shuddering,
hearing the howls, his body started to react, changing into a huge black
wolf, ready to hunt. Then he stopped and withdrew his magic, and the
man stood next to her.
 He turned to her. Reaching out and wrapping his arms around her, he
whispered, "Let it go, for now. We will need more of the magic tomorrow.
But they now have no horses, no breakfast and no sleep, with a lot of work
ahead of them." Locked in a trance, she didn’t hear his voice, only the
howls of the hungry wolves. Straining forward, she longed to join them,
not afraid of them for the first time in her existence. Feeling the warmth
of his arms around her, she broke free from the trance and leaned against
him shivering.
Alone, tired. Hell, exhausted, she wandered the keep in the early,
pre-dawn light. Two days ago, the Stormcrow had flown away, and, since,
she alone had been fighting the battle. Several times, the Queen's army
had stormed the castle and been beaten back by the phantasmal army she
had created. She had managed to kill very few of the Queen's army, while
allowing hers to be destroyed, over and over. Once, the walls dangerously
breached, she had used the firewall Lord Crow had taught her and several
of the Queen's army fell, but it was a small dent in the thousand she had.
Worn out, unable to sleep, afraid she had reached the end of strength,
she wandered the dark halls, heading for the balcony. Walking through his
room, she stared longingly at the bath, the mat on the floor, wishing he
was here, to give her strength, power. To hold her for a while.
She knew the first part of his goal had been achieved, for no magic
assailed her from the enemy camp. The Wizard's Council, then, was gone.
But she knew he traveled to a far distant plane, the desert world of The
Black League. The Black League and their code of fulfilling any contract no
matter the cost filled her with dread. She knew - hoped - he would return
to her, but she feared the contract he had signed to draw these men and
women from their own world. Slowly, she reached the balcony, looking out
over the battlefield as the first rays of the sun begin to warm her heart,
still cold with dread for what she would see. There, on a black stallion, sat
the Queen, crowned, beautifully robed, her breastplate gleaming as the
sun hit it.
"Damn you, Crow! The Kahn's Horde is half a day away! We've already
engaged some of his scouts. Let me in, you bastard, so we can try to save
this day!" With a smile on her lips, she waved her hand, raising the gate.
The Queen rods into the courtyard, stopped under the balcony, looked up
at her for a moment, looked around at the empty castle. "He's not even
here, is he, my dear? Left you here all alone to face me?"
A voice came from behind her on the balcony, the deep male voice of
Phillip, as she saw Lord Crow's men taking up their posts around the