"Stephen Lawhead - Dragon King 02 - The Warlords of Nin" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lawhead Stephen)

High in the lonely foothills the sound of their race echoed and re-echoed
from one blank stone face to another. Their jubilant cries sang through the
rills and crevices, and rang in rock hollows and caves. The horses’ hooves
struck sparks from the stone paving as they flew.
At last, exhausted and out of breath, the two trotted to a halt upon a
ridge. Below them the foothills dropped away in gentle arcs, fading from
violet to blue in the hazy distance. Away to the south stood the lofty,
snow-wrapped crags of the Fiskills, where endless winds howled among
the sharp peaks.
“Ah!” sighed Quentin as he drew a deep breath. “Such a sight! It is a
beautiful land, is it not?”
“It is that and more indeed. My people have a word for the land—I do
not think I have ever told you: Al-allira.”
“No, I have never heard it. What does it mean?”
“I cannot be precise—there is no exact meaning in your tongue. But it
means something like ‘the land of flowing peace.’ ”
“Al-allira. I like that; it fits.” They started down together. “And it
certainly is peaceful. Look out across those valleys. These years have been
good ones. The land has produced full measure. The people are content. I
cannot think but that the god has blessed the realm in recompense for the
troubled times when Eskevar was away from his throne.”
“Yes, these have been good years. Golden times. I hope we will see
them endure.”
Quentin cast a sideways glance at his companion. Toli’s eyes were
focused on some distant horizon. He appeared as if in a trance.
Quentin did not want to break the happy mood, so did not pursue the
matter further. They continued down the slope without speaking.
The next day dawned fair and bright, warmed by soft winds from the
west. The travelers were already well on their way when the sun peeped
over Erlemros, the Fiskill’s highest peak. The road made going easy and
they pushed a steady pace, reaching the lowlands by midday.
They ate a hasty meal among moss-covered stones in the shade of an
ancient oak and started again on their way. They had not traveled far when
Toli said, “Along the road, yonder. We have some company.”
Quentin raised his eyes and saw very faintly, and very far away, what
appeared to be a group of travelers coming toward them on foot. There
was just a glimpse, and then a bend in the road took them from Quentin’s
sight.
“Merchants, perhaps?” Quentin wondered aloud. Often traders who sold
their wares from town to town banded together in traveling companies for
mutual entertainment and protection. “I would buy a trinket for Bria.”
 They continued on, and Quentin thought of all the things his lovely
would enjoy. They rounded the side of a grassy hill covered with scarlet
wildflowers and approached the spot where they had first seen the
travelers.
“Odd,” said Quentin. “We should have met them by now. Perhaps they
stopped up the road beyond that clump of trees.” He pointed ahead to
where a bushy stand of trees overhung the road, sheltering all beyond from
view.
They continued on with a growing perplexity.