"David Eddings. Castle of wizardry enchanters' end game (The Belgariad, Part two)" - читать интересную книгу автора

soon."
Garion inclined his head politely. In spite of the worry gnawing at
him, he could not shake off the peculiar feeling that he ought to know
this quiet, beautiful girl. Errand reached out and took the girl's hand,
and the three of them passed hand in hand down the torch-lighted corridor.
King Cho-Hag's main hall was on a lower floor. It was a long, narrow
room where chairs and padded benches sat in little clusters around
braziers filled with glowing coals. Barak, holding a large ale tankard in
one huge fist, was describing with some embellishment their descent from
the top of the escarpment.
"We didn't really have any choice, you see," the big man was saying.
"Taur Urgas had been frothing on our heels for several days, and we had to
take the shortest way down."
Hettar nodded. "Plans sometimes have a way of changing when the
unexpected crops up," he agreed. "That's why we put men to watching every
known pass down from the top of the escarpment."
"I still think you might have let us know you were there." Barak
sounded a little injured.
Hettar grinned wolfishly. "We couldn't really take the chance, Barak,"
he explained. "The Murgos might have seen us, and we didn't want to
frighten them off. It would have been a shame if they'd gotten away,
wouldn't it?"

"Is that all you ever think about?"
Hettar considered the question for a moment. "Pretty much, yes," he
admitted.
Supper was announced then, and they all moved to the long table at the
far end of the hall. The general conversation at the table made it
unnecessary for Garion to lie directly to anyone about the frightening
possibility Aunt Pol had raised, and after supper he sat beside Adara and
lapsed into a kind of sleepy haze, only half listening to the talk.
There was a stir at the door, and a guard entered. "The priest of
Belar!" he announced in a loud voice, and a tall man in a white robe
strode into the room, followed by four men dressed in shaggy furs. The
four walked with a peculiar shuffling gait, and Garion instantly
recognized them as Bear-cultists, indistinguishable from the Cherek
members of the same group he had seen in Val Alorn.
"Your Majesty," the man in the white robe boomed.
"Hail, Cho-Hag," the cultists intoned in unison, "Chief of the
ClanChiefs of the Algars and guardian of the southern reaches of Aloria."
King Cho-Hag inclined his head briefly. "What is it, Elvar?" he asked
the priest.
"I have come to congratulate your Majesty upon the occasion of your
great victory over the forces of the Dark God," the priest replied.
"You are most kind, Elvar," Cho-Hag answered politely.
"Moreover," Elvar continued, "it has come to my attention that a holy
object has come into the Stronghold of the Algars. I presume that your
Majesty will wish to place it in the hands of the priesthood for
safekeeping."
Garion, alarmed at the priest's suggestion, half rose from his seat,