"Huff, Tanya - Wizard 1 - Child Of The Grove 1.1 Txt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Huff Tanya)

He twisted in his saddle.
Rutgar.
His shield arm hung limp and blood ran down the armor, pouring from his fingers in a ruby stream. His sword wove dizzying patterns of steel, trying to pro-

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tect his wounded side, but he was tiring, and there were too many attacking.
"No!" Practically lifting the animal onto its hindquarters, Rael yanked his horse around, cutting and chopping like a madman the entire time. The Melacians surrounding him began to fall back. If they were crazy, he was crazier. If they welcomed Lord Death, he'd happily send them Death's way. But Rutgar was not going to die.
Three horse lengths apart.
Rutgar faltered. A sword drove through the seam between breast and back.
Two.
Hands stretched up to pull the swaying armsman
down from the saddle.
Too far away to help, Rael saw the terror on Rutgar's face; saw Rutgar's hand reach and close on nothing; heard, as though there wasn't another sound on the battlefield, Rutgar call his name.
It was Doan who kept him from vaulting out of his saddle, Doan who steered him back to the Ardhan lines when he would have ridden into the heart of the Melacian army and tried to cut it out, and it was Doan who held him while he wept.
Later, in the command tent, he glared out at the assembled men and said, "Enough. "
"Granted, " Cei agreed. "But what can we do?"
"We take out their commanders, tonight. "
"Tonight?"
The raw emotion on Rael's face choked off the babble of questions before it truly began. "Doan. "
The captain of the Elite stepped forward.
"The Elite will follow where you lead, commander. "
"Will you follow him into Lord Death's embrace?" Cei sniffed. "Because without a moon, that's right where you'll be going. "
Although Cei stood almost two feet taller, Doan managed to look down on him as he repeated, "The Elite will follow where he leads. "

68 Tanya Huff
"Cei's right, " Belkar said gently. "Without a moon, that valley will be pitch black. "
"Then they won't expect an attack. The lack of a moon can work to our advantage as well, giving us cover and a better chance of success. " Rael ground out the words, the lack of expression in stark contrast to the pain that twisted his face.
Belkar sighed. He wished, not for the first time, Glinna had allowed Raen to attend. A king and father could command where others could only advise. "I want to end this as much as you do, Highness, believe me, but men cannot see in darkness. "
"If the Elite will follow, " Rael lifted his head and green fires blazed in his eyes, "then darkness will not stop us. "

Five
It was raining the next morning when Rael came to his father's tent. He stood for a moment and stared blindly at the wet canvas, letting the water cut channels into the red-brown mud that caked his armor. The lines etched into the pale skin about his mouth and the purple bruises beneath his eyes, eyes in which the green fires had all but died, bore eloquent testimony to the night's work. He had never looked less like his mother.
The Guard before the entrance saluted and stood aside but Glinna, standing guard within the canvas walls, could not be so easily passed. She folded her arms on her chest and blocked the way.
"The king finally sleeps. Anything you have to say can wait. "
"I have news of the war. "
"No doubt, " she said dryly. "But I don't care if the war is over, you may not wake him. "
"The war is over. "
Her eyes widened. She looked down at the dried blood that stained his sword hilt, so thick in places that it filled the hollows in the ornate scrollwork, then she stepped aside.
"Don't allow him to become excited, " she cautioned as Rael passed. "If he opens the wound again... " Her words trailed off, but the meaning was clear.
When Raen had left his bed and reopened the
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wound, it had infected, swelling and putrefying. From a serious, although hardly fatal injury, it had grown to be dangerously life threatening. Glinna, however, refused to admit defeat, draining, cleaning, cauterizing, and pouring potion after potion down the king's throat. Three times she forced Lord Death away, and in the end she won; the king lived. But under the scented smoke that eddied around the inner room, the smell of rot remained.
"Less than a week, " thought Rael, looking down at his father, "how could he change so much in less than a week?"
As the war had aged Rael, the wound had aged Raen. Flesh hung from his bones as if it belonged to another man, and the lines of his face were now furrows. Not even the most loving son could deny that the king had grown old.
Rael dashed a tear away with an impatient hand. You will not mourn him while he still lives, he told himself fiercely. He needs you to be strong. He dragged a chair over to the bed and perched on its edge. "Father?" Reaching out a slender hand, he placed it gently on the sleeping man's chest. The steady rise and fall seemed to reassure him. He sat quietly for a moment then called again.
With a sound that was half question, half moan, the king woke, blinked, and focused slowly on Rael's face.
"Father, the war is over. "
"You have the battle commanders. " It wasn't a question. Late in the night, Belkar had told him what Rael planned to do, indeed, was doing, for the prince had ordered the duke not to speak until he and the Elite were well on their way. "You did the right thing. The only thing. I wouldn't have stopped you. " The boy had needed an outlet for his grief. The war had needed to be ended. That both had been accomplished at once, and with a plan only the prince commander himself could carry out would further consolidate said commander's position with the army. That said commander was his son, and the plan placed him in mortal