Книга только для ознакомления
. 'We do not mourn the
loss of those who die fulfilling their destinies.' "
"Coldly put. Whom do you mourn? Those who die
unfulfilled? Those with no destinies at all?"
"All have destinies." She looked up at the sky. From
where he watched, her horn drew a line from him to the
north star. "As all have stars. As you have a star."
"What of those who refuse their own star and would
choose another?"
She held the point of her horn unwavering. "Stars last.
We do not. Refuse it as long as you must; it will still wait
for you."
"But I may refuse it as long as I wish."
When she did not respond, he said, "If I cannot shape
my own destiny, I still refuse the destiny shaped for me.
Farewell - again."
He barely heard her say, "I know - again." He
wondered if she were mourning.
Near dawn the stag came to a dark and cheerless spot.
When he arrived at the point near which the sedge was
withered from the lake and no birds sang, he gazed around.
Ahead of him a shadowy spirit in armor stood, waving
his sword restlessly among the weeds. He bent forward, his
lips moving in curses too old to mean much to any but the
stag.
The king jerked upright, startled, as the stag sang
loudly:
KING PERIS'S MEN WERE DUTY BOUND,
TO GUARD THE WOOD FROM FEAR
|