Аннотация
John Flanagan
The sorcerer of the North
1
In the north, he knew, the early winter gales, driving the rain before them, would send the sea crashing against the shore, causing white clouds of spray to burst high into the air.
Here, in the southeastern corner of the kingdom, the only signs of approaching winter were the gentle puffs of steam that marked the breath of his two horses. The sky was clear blue, almost painfully so, and the sun was warm on his shoulders. He could have dozed off in the saddle, leaving Tug to pick his way along the road, but the years he had spent training and conditioning in a hard and unforgiving discipline would never allow such an indulgence.
Will's eyes moved constantly, searching left to right, right to left, close in and far ahead. An observer might never notice this constant movement-his head remained still. Again, that was his training: to see without being seen; to notice without being noticed. He knew this part of the k...
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