"Christopher Stasheff - Warlock 13 - Warlock's Last Ride" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stasheff Christopher)

ones. Oh, they were still pain-filled, but they no longer had the power to cripple. She knew she could
stand against them now, against any one of the people who had hurt her, could stand against the whole
village with Magnus beside her—and knew he would always be there, even without the lure of sex to
keep him, that she had come to matter to him as deeply as that—and paradoxically, it made her yearning
for his touch grow so sharp that it was almost unbearable, even though she knew that sex hurt, that the
feelings that went with it gave pain far sharper—but the conviction grew that with Magnus, it would not
be so. She told herself that she only wanted to share his bed so that she could be sure of him, and that
wasn't necessary at all, for she could be far more sure of him as a battle-companion, that their steadily-
deepening friendship was far surer and more meaningful than romantic love could ever be, that she
didn't need the baring of souls that went with it, that the intimacy they were sharing now was far more
meaningful than the confidences of lovers, that she could be closer to him as a true friend, now when
worry and grief made him more vulnerable than he had ever been.

But something deep inside her refused to believe it, any of it. So the starship shot onward through
eternal night, bearing two people who were finally coming to know one another as they never had.

A SCREAM RANG through the castle's hall, and Rod started up, then looked back at Gwen's pale
face on her pillow, framed by the long flows of red hair streaked with white. She opened her eyes,
reading his anxiety and smiling. "Go to her, worried father. I shall still live when you return."

"I know. I still don't want to leave you unless I have to." Rod sat back onto her bed, cradling her

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hand in his. "But it's hard having you ill while our daughter's giving birth."

"I shall linger awhile, I assure you," Gwen said with a smile that suddenly blazed through her
illness. "However, this is women's work, and it is better if you leave it to Cordelia and her midwife."

"Yes, I guess so." Rod managed a smile. "I had to live through you giving birth four times and face
the fact that I couldn't do anything to lessen your pain. You think I'd be used to it by now."

"It has been many years," Gwen conceded. "Then too, 'tis different with a daughter than with a
wife." For the first time, her own worry showed in her face. "Finally I too must face that helplessness. At
least I can share her pain and give her some strength."

"You haven't any to spare!" Rod caught her hand in a panic. "Don't tax yourself!"

"My body may have weakened," Gwen told him, "but my mind is yet strong."

Another scream tore through the hall.

Rod looked up with a shudder, but Gwen said quietly, " 'Tis the last such. The babe is born."

Rod's head snapped around to stare at her. "You mean…"

"Wait." Gwen's hand tightened on his. "We shall see soon enough."

Nonetheless, it seemed an hour before the midwife appeared at the door, holding a blanket-wrapped