"Andre Norton - Witch World - Warlock of the Witch World" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

 “Do you dream now, Kemoc of the wise head?” she challenged and I came out of my
bemusement.

“No good dream if I do, Lady.”
The light challenge vanished; her eyes dropped from mine to the cup she held in her
two hands. She moved it slightly and the purple liquid within it flowed from side to side.

“Look not in any foretelling mirror this night, Kemoc. Yet you have more than the
shadow of a dream over you, to my thinking.”

“I do.”
Now why had I said that? Always had I kept my own counsel, or our own counsel, for
we three-who-were-one shared. But was that still so? I looked again to my sister, who
laughed with Dinzil, and to Kyllan, who was talking eagerly with Ethutur and Hervon as if
he were a link between the two of them.

“Branch, hold not to the leaves,” said Dahaun softly. “There comes a time when those
must loose for the wind to bear them away. But new leaves grow in turn—”
I caught her meaning and flushed. That she and Kyllan had an understanding
between them I had known for weeks.
Nor had it hurt me that this was so. That there might come a day when Kaththea
would step into a road wherein she would walk with another, that I also accepted. I did
not resent it that Kaththea laughed this night and was more maiden than witch and sister.
But I resented whom she laughed with!

“Kemoc—”

I glanced again to Dahaun and found her staring at me.

“Kemoc—what is it?”
“Lady—” I held her eyes but I did not try to reach her mind. “Look well to your
walls. I am afraid.”
“Of Dinzil? That he may take from you that which you have cherished?”

“Of Dinzil—what he may be.”
She sipped from her cup, still watching me over its rim. “So, I shall look, warrior. I
was ill-spoken, ill-thought, to put it to you as I did. This is no jealousy of close kin eating
at you. You dislike him for himself. Why?”
“I do not know—I only feel.”

Dahaun put down her cup. “And feelings can speak more truthfully than tongues. Be
certain I shall watch—in more ways than one.”

“For that I thank you, Lady,” I said low-voiced.
“Ride hence with foreboding this much lightened, Kemoc,” she replied. “And good
luck ride with you, to right, to left, at your back—”

“But not before?” I raised my own cup to salute her.
 “Ah, but you carry a sword before you, Kemoc.”