"Christopher Stasheff - Warlock 11 - The Warlock Rock" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stasheff Christopher)

Diarmid stared; if Gregory said it, it had to be true.

Geoffrey managed to get his mind off his shin long enough to think of
revenge. He glared at Cordelia, and was just starting to speak when
something jolted him back. It was his older brother Magnus, hauling him
aside to whisper frantically in his ear.

"Salt rocks, but not rough," Cordelia agreed. "They are faceted as
sweetly as the finest jewel."

Alain frowned. "And thy father thus made that blue stone?"

"Aye," said little Gregory, "though 'twas a good deal more of a coil in
the brewing."

"Certes," said Alain. " 'Tis a jewel, after all, not a lump of salt."

"Yet it seems," said Cordelia, "that it was not what he meant it to be."

Geoffrey returned to the table, sulky but silent. Magnus sat down beside
him.

"What did he mean to make?" Diarmid asked.

"An amulet," said Cordelia, "that would give any who wore it magical
powers."

Alain could only stare.

"Havoc!" Diarmid said instantly. "There would be no law, no order!
Every man's hand would be turned against his neighbor!"
 "Thou dost see to the heart of it," Gregory said, impressed. "Still,
friend, if all were witches, would not the world remain as it is? The strong
would rule, the good folk would obey."

Diarmid furrowed his brow, trying to find the flaw.

" 'Tis of no matter." Magnus waved the point away. "Papa's rock did
not what he wished; when he bade a plowman wear it and seek to work
magic, naught did hap. 'Tis what it did when Papa wore it himself, that
was the trouble."

"What trouble?" Diarmid asked; and,

"What did it do?" Alain demanded.

"He set it in a circlet," said Cordelia, "and wore it on his forehead
whiles he tried to uproot a sapling that was growing too near the house."

"Could not thy father do that without the jewel?" Diarmid asked.