"David,.Peter.-.Sir.Apropos.2.-.Woad.To.Wuin" - читать интересную книгу автора (David Peter)

was, it was easier to inspect him while he was upright. While his most
noticeable bulge began to diminish, I happily relieved him of anotherЧa fairly
decent purse hanging on his belt which I quickly discovered was filled with gold
coins the like of which I'd never seen. Still, as opposed to coins unique to
specific realms with different faces of monarchs etched in the surfaces, gold
was definitely gold no matter whose countenance adorned it.
Then I spotted something twinkling on the brush just beneath the dwarf's
dangling feet, shining and winking at me in the rays of the setting sun. I
reached down and picked it up. It appeared to be some sort of golden ring, but
it was much too large for ordinary wear. I could easily fit three of my fingers
into the thing. An earring perhaps, but there was no clasp for it to fasten on.
It felt rather warm, and I turned it over and over in my hands, inspecting it
carefully. It was then I noticed some sort of writing on the inside. It was not
easy to make out and, confusingly, the letters seemed to be fading along with
the dissipating warmth. But what it read was:

I didn't know to whom "them all" referred, or what the one thing might be, so
really I was somewhat ignorant of the purpose of the ring. Would that I had
remained that way.
It was at that point that I heard something coming toward me through the woods.
From the sound of it, it appeared to be a group of men, at least half a dozen.
They were making no attempt to move quietly; a deaf man could have heard them
coming. Unfortunately they were between me and the cave.
Without thinking, I shoved the ring in my pocket and quickly sought, and found,
refuge amongst the underbrush. As I mentioned earlier, when I am endeavoring to
hide in a forest, I am almost impossible to detect. I drew my cape around me and
huddled low, unmoving in the lengthening shadows of the forest.
The men arrived in short order, and a more motley assortment one could not have
imagined. The one who seemed to be the leader was a strong, fox-faced,
handsome-looking man. With him was an astounding array of . . . hell, I'm not
sure what they were. A couple more hairy-footed dwarfs, a few trolls, some other
freakish-looking individuals. I had absolutely no idea where they could have
come from; none of their ilk had ever passed through any of the regions in which
I'd resided.
They saw at once the dangling dwarf, and oh, the moaning and caterwauling that
they sent up then, I cannot begin to tell you. In catching the names they were
tossing around, it appeared that the deceased one was called Bubo, and the tall
man was Walker. The others had an assortment of staggeringly annoying monikers
that were impossible to keep straight: Hodge and Podge, Hoi and Paloi, Hither
and Thither, Tutti and Fruitti, So On and So Forth, etc. It was rather cloying,
and I could only be thankful I wasn't traveling with the group as I would likely
have beaten myself to death after two days rather than die slowly of excessive
cleverness.
The tall one called Walker was standing directly in front of Bubo, obscuring him
from my sight, and then he turned and looked grimly at the others. "The ring is
not here," he said.
There were gasps and lamentations and growls of "Death to the thief!" which
naturally didn't sit all that well with me.
"The body is still warm," said Walker. "The thief cannot have gotten far." Now,
I have to admit, I bridled a bit at the word thief. Not that I wasn't one, you