"Bud Sparhawk - Magic's Price" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sparhawk Bud)

with a gruff, “Damn lot of trouble for nothing.”

Mother continued planning aloud, unmindful of his father's bitter comment; “We'll need to bring in extra
food—George, you'll bring up the meat from the smoke house, a hock and some lamb, I think would be
best. Then we'll need extra wood and the cistern will need filling. Oh, there's so much we have to do to
get ready for our guests.”

“You don't have to be so damned friendly,” his father growled. “Isn't like they were family.” Jacob
detected a note of uncharacteristic anger in his father's voice, but couldn't determine if it was directed at
the situation or at his mother. “Jacob can get all of that for you. I have to be out early to work the valley
fields.”

As soon as they reached home Jacob began gathering the things his mother had enumerated. He lugged
hunks of meat from the smoke house and hauled boxes of dried fruit and preserved vegetables from the
family's root cellar.

His mother fussed about, herself too wound up to sleep. “I do hope they won't be disappointed with
dried and canned fare,” She fretted. “No, I'm sure they'll understand that it just isn't possible to have
fresh food this season.” She produced two apple pies she had baked a day earlier and examined them as
if they were to be entered in the contest at the annual harvest fair. “I think I will serve these.” There was
nothing better than mother's pies. Neither Pam nor Jacob objected to the idea, but Pam did, and got a
small slice for herself. Mother always spoiled her.

Hours later, exhausted by the excitement of the long day and the night's work, Jacob fell into bed and
closed his eyes, waiting for sleep's sweet embrace that did not come. How could he sleep when, in a few
hours the new day would break, the day the old magician might arrive to perform his magic. In a few
hours the beautiful Tash Pallas could be here. He didn't know which prospect excited him the more.

She had smiled at him.
****

When Jacob jerked awake he discovered that a cold mist had shrouded morning to gray unfamiliarity. He
quickly bundled against the damp and set out to first feed the chickens and then see to the other animals’
needs as they huddled in the barn's warmth. Dan and Brandy stamped their hooves, impatient for their
morning ration of oats and dried apples. Throughout the day Jacob kept watch to the east, hoping to be
the first to sight the magicians, but he was always disappointed.

By nightfall the mist had turned to a light, drifting snow. His father stared at the wintry scene. “Better
check the fences near the tower tomorrow.”

Jacob nodded. He'd already assumed that had to be done. His father wouldn't want even a magician to
think they were remiss in maintaining their fences. The tidy farm was a point of pride with him, a sign that
he was properly husbanding the land, as did all of the farmers hereabouts.

Jacob enjoyed riding Dan along the fence line. It gave him a certain sense of pride to see the newer
fence rows he and his father had added to those of his ancestors. He slowly rode Dan along the tall rock
wall that formed the eastern boundary and turned at the copse of trees that marked the northern edge
and the beginning of the stack pole fence. He noticed that some of the cross poles had become dislodged
so he let Dan graze while he put these back in place.