"John Morressy - NestEgg" - читать интересную книгу автора (Morressy John)

"I'm sure the reference to a spell is a desperate guess on the part of the
physicians. It's highly unlikely that Cecil has been spelled. If anyone with
sense wanted to discompose the royal family, they'd put the spell on them, not
on their griffin."

"Would they?" said Princess. She pointed with a delicate fingertip to a
handwritten addendum far down in the parchment, below the point to which
Kedrigern had unrolled it. He rose, grumbling, and joined her at the table.
The
postscript read:

*
Please come, Dear K. The children will be heartbroken if they lose their
Cecil.

Your old comrade, Tyasan.

Kedrigern gazed long at the message. He looked up helplessly and sighed.

Princess let the scroll furl and tapped the ends into neat alignment. "I'll
tell
Spot to start packing. We'll leave in the mornings" she said.

"We?"
"You don't think I'm going to pass up a chance to visit a royal court, do you?
Even if it means sitting up with a sick griffin."

The castle of Contrecoeur was five days' unhurried ride from the cottage on
Silent Thunder Mountain, and the weather was ideal for travel. The skies were
clear, the sun bright. The roads had dried after the spring rains, but summer
had not yet encumbered the land with heat and dust and small insects and
crowds.
Traffic, in fact, was nonexistent. The woods were splashed with shadings of
green highlighted with the brightness of flowers. Fragrance and birdsong
filled
the air. All appeared tranquil, but Kedrigern felt increasingly ill at ease.
Finally, on the morning of the fifth day, he reined in his horse and dropped
back to Princess' side.

"There are people nearby," he said.

"It's the season for traveling."

"I know it is, and yet we haven't seen a soul on the road so far. Now I sense
a
large crowd, and they're not in a friendly mood. Probably robbers and
marauders."

"Are you sure? There's not much to rob out here, is there?"