Аннотация
Douglas W. Clark
Saving Solace
CHAPTER 1
Tom Osterman gripped the reins impatiently but made himself keep them slack, letting the lead horse set the pace as the team, a pair of massive draft animals, pulled the old farm wagon toward Solace. The wagon, heavily laden with potatoes, carrots, beats, and freshly ground flour, rattled and jolted over the rutted road. To the right, the rising sun had cleared most of the trees, and the day was already warm and tangy with pine resin. Somewhere a meadowlark sang its clear, lilting notes.
"I don't care what you say," Tom's wife, Sophie, went on, continuing an argument that had occupied the pair since leaving Jutlin Wykirk's mill down on Solace Stream. "I don't like him. He's such an… an…" She searched for a word that sufficiently expressed her distaste. "An odd sort," she concluded at last. "Always going on about outsiders who've been making their way into Solace these days-kender, elves, and whatnot. Even a coup...
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