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

hear it. For some reason I don't think she'd approve if I just did it to
show off."
"You're not afraid of her, are you?"
"It's not exactly that. I just don't want her to be disappointed in
me." He considered that. "Let me see if I can explain. We had an awful
argument once - in Nyissa. I said some things I didn't really mean, and
she told me exactly what she'd gone through for me." He looked somberly
out of the window, remembering Aunt Pol's words on the steamy deck of
Greldik's ship. "She's devoted a thousand years to me, Adara - to my
family actually, but finally all because of me. She's given up every
single thing that's ever been important to her for me.
Can you imagine the kind of obligation that puts on me? I'll do
anything she wants me to, and I'd cut off my arm before I'd ever hurt her
again."
"You love her very much, don't you, Garion?"
"It goes beyond that. I don't think there's even been a word invented
yet to describe what exists between us."
Wordlessly Adara took his hand, her eyes warm with a wondering
affection.
Later that afternoon, Garion went alone to the room where Aunt Pol was
caring for her recalcitrant patient. After the first few days of bed rest,
Belgarath had steadily grown more testy about his enforced confinement.
Traces of that irritability lingered on his face even as he dozed, propped
up by many pillows in his canopied bed. Aunt Pol, wearing her familiar
gray dress, sat nearby, her needle busy as she altered one of Garion's old
tunics for Errand. The little boy, sitting not far away, watched her with
that serious expression that always seemed to make him look older than he
really was.
"How is he?" Garion asked softly, looking at his sleeping grandfather.
"Improving," Aunt Pol replied, setting aside the tunic. "His temper's
getting worse, and that's always a good sign."
"Are there any hints that he might be getting back his-? Well, you
know." Garion gestured vaguely.
"No," she replied. "Nothing yet. It's probably too early."
"Will you two stop that whispering?" Belgarath demanded without opening
his eyes. "How can I possibly sleep with all that going on?"
"You were the one who said he didn't want to sleep," Polgara reminded
him.
"That was before," he snapped, his eyes popping open. He looked at
Garion. "Where have you been?" he demanded.
"Garion's been getting acquainted with his cousin Adara," Aunt Pol
explained.
"He could stop by to visit me once in a while," the old man complained.
"There's not much entertainment in listening to you snore, father."
"I do not snore, Polgara."
"Whatever you say, father," she agreed placidly.
"Don't patronize me, Pol!"
"Of course not, father. Now, how would you like a nice hot cup of
broth?"
"I would not like a nice hot cup of broth. I want meat - rare, red meat