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

"Until the seed is sown, " C'Tal agreed as Doan

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stomped back and stood snarling down at the tree. "Then we will return to the mortals' ranges... "
"Big of you, " Doan interjected sarcastically.
"... and as we did with the others, we will instruct the child. "
"Yeah? Well, get it right this time. "
It was C'Tal's turn to glare, but all he said was: "We
shall. "
"If there is a child. "
"You think the Eldest's line will not be able to accomplish what they must to fulfill the prophecy?"
The dwarf threw his hands in the air, then, catching sight of C'Tal's face, he closed his mouth on the cutting remark that had risen to his tongue. The centaur was truly worried. "You want my opinion?"
"Yes. "
Doan remembered. He'd been standing in the Square, with the rest of the Elite when Milthra had given herself to Death so many years before. He would never, for the eternity he might yet live, forget the look on her face.
"The Mother gave each of the Elders one role to play in the lives of her youngest. "
"She did, " agreed C'Tal.
"Dwarves guard. Centaurs teach. But the Eldest... "
The sapling's roots were deep in the remains of Milthra's tree, deep in the earth where Milthra and her beloved had been returned to the arms of the
Mother.
"... but the Eldest loved. And the Youngest were strong enough to bear that. In my opinion They have not sacrificed in vain. The weapon will be forged. There will be a chance to defeat the ancient enemy and maybe, just maybe, we'll have peace for a time. "
The centaur sighed and once again the great hand closed on the dwarf's shoulder.
"Thank you, " said C'Tal, and almost the trees around echoed him. Then, with the uncanny speed of his kind, the centaur was gone.
For a moment, Doan stood quietly, looking down at
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the miniature silver birch, considering the life within it. The moment passed, his face fell back into its accustomed scowl, and he kicked at a nodding buttercup.
"Seeds, bah! They need a gardener not a guardian. "

Six
"Tayer, we're lost. We'll never find our way back. "
"Oh, do be quiet, Hanna. I'm trying to think. "
"But what about bandits? We could be killed. Or worse!" The girl's voice rose to a piercing wail.
"Hanna!" Tayer turned in her saddle and glared at her cousin. "There are no bandits in the Lady's Wood. And if you'll just be quiet for a moment, we may be able to hear the horns and find our way back to the hunt. "
Hanna sniffed but stopped wailing. All her life she'd followed the older, stronger-willed girl and now habit conquered fear.
"If we could only see the sun, " Tayer mused, standing in her stirrups and squinting up into the thick summer foliage, "at least then we'd know which way we were heading. " But the sky was overcast and what showed through the leaves was a uniform gray.
"It'll probably rain. "
"Oh, Hanna!" Tayer's laugh lightened the wood's darkness for a moment, and it almost seemed the birds fell silent to hear. Songs without number had been written about the laugh of the Princess of Ardhan. Every bard in the kingdom, and not a few from outside, had tried to immortalize the sound. They'd never quite managed it. As had been said more than once, the sound, although beautiful beyond compare, was nothing really without the princess. Strands of gold wove through the thick chestnut of her hair, flecks of
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gold brightened the soft brown of her eyes, and a
sprinkle of gold danced across the cream of her cheeks.
She was the youngest of the three children of the king,
the only daughter, and the image of her dead mother.
The king counted her amongst the treasures of his
kingdom.
Hanna's pale, delicate beauty had always been overshadowed by her cousin's-what chance had a violet against a rose, even one just barely budded-but she appeared content living in the light of reflected glory.
The four generations since the death of Milthra and Raen had wiped out all overt physical resemblances to the hamadryad in the Royal House of Ardhan, but nevertheless differences remained. When Rael, at sixty-four, took his mother's road and followed his beloved into death, he had looked like a man of less than forty. His son was seventy-five when he finally married and one hundred and thirty-five when he died. The blood of the Eldest could not keep Lord Death away indefinitely, but it certainly delayed his coming.
In those four generations, the Lady's Wood had become just another forest, distinguished only in that Royal Law forbade the cutting of any living tree within its boundaries. In this generation, it had become the favorite hunting ground of the Court.
A bird with snowy white plumage, startling against the deep green of the forest's summer canopy, had separated Tayer and Hanna from the rest of the hunt. Tayer had thought it so unusual, and so beautiful, she rode off after it to get a better look; Hanna trailing, as always, along behind. When the bird disappeared, seemingly between one tree and the next, they were in a part of the forest completely unfamiliar to them and hopelessly lost.
A certain heaviness in the air, a waiting stillness, said Hanna's fear ol rain was not wholly brought about by depression. The horses' ears lay flat and the animals had to be urged down the trail. Heavy underbrush clutched at the girls' clothing and the horses' legs with sharp, damp fingers. No birds sang and even