"Dragonlance - Kang's Regiment 01 - The Doom Brigade - Margaret Weis & Don Perrin" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dragonlance)

"Of course." Selquist straightened, scratching reflectively at his scraggly beard, which had once been likened by his own mother to a growth of fungus on a rock. "What other possible reason could mere be?"
"Mine," said Mortar stubbornly.
But the other two laughed at him derisively and began hauling tools out of the crate. The tools were not of draconian make or design, which meant that they had been originally stolen from the dwarven village: Selquist and his friends had simply stolen them back, a proceeding that was not unusual. After twenty-some years of raiding, most objects belonging to the dwarves and the draconians had changed hands more often man gifts at a kender wedding.
"Not bad," Pestle said to his brother. "We can sell these for ten steel. They're Thorbardin-made and good quality."
Very little was manufactured in Celebundin. The town had a forge and a competent smith, but he made tools for building, not digging or fighting. Most of the dwarves' weapons were either purchased, bartered, or stolen from their richer, safer, and bitterly resented cousins, the dwarves of the mighty underground fastness of Thor-bardin.
"We can either sell them to the Thane or we can sell mem to travelers on the road norm. What do you think?" Selquist asked.
Mortar gave the matter serious consideration. "Who is going to buy shovels and picks and a saw while they're on the way to Solace? A roving band of goblin road workers? No, it'll have to be the Thane."
Mortar always had a good sense for the market.
Selquist agreed. Pestle raised an objection.
"Someone's bound to recognize these and claim them. Then the thane will make us give them back."
At the sound of the dreadful word "give" the dwarves shuddered. The brothers looked to Selquist, who was the acknowledged brains of the group.
"I've got it!" he said, after a moment's thoughtful pause. "We'll take that little pissy lamb and make a present of it to the High Thane's daughter. We'll look like heroes! After that, if there's any dispute, the High Thane will be bound to side with us."
Pestle and Mortar considered this option and pronounced it feasible. Auger, who had just come back inside, glared at them, narrow-eyed.
"What'd you say you were going to with the lamb?"
Selquist told him the plan, adding modestly. "It was my idea."
Auger muttered something beneath his breath.
"What did you say?" Selquist asked. "It sounded like 'lamb chops.'"
"It was lamb chops! You're giving our supper away to the High Thane's little brat!"
"You should think less of your stomach," Selquist said in moral tones. "And more of the Cause. We need all the money we can raise for our little expedition."
Selquist quenched the light and walked majestically out the door, accompanied by Pestle and Mortar. Auger trailed behind, carrying the lamb.
Auger knew all about the Cause.
The only Cause Selquist ever promoted was Selquist.

Chapter Four


The Hall of the Thanes was located in the center of Celebundin and sounded a lot grander than it was really was. The main roads of the town ran from the meeting hall to the edge of town like the spokes on a wheel. Ring roads connected the spoke roads, and the dwarves' dwellings were built in between. The town had no wall, but every building was made of stone, each constructed like a small fort.
The hill dwarves of Celebundin didn't like being cooped up inside a wall. Walls reminded them of their Thorbardin cousins. Reminded the hill dwarves of the terrible days after the Cataclysm, when the mountain dwarves had shut the gates of the walls of Thorbardin in the faces of their beloved cousins, leaving the hill dwarves out in the wilderness to starve.
Today, the HaU of the ThanesЧin reality, a blockhouse about the size of four dwarf houses put togetherЧwas
filled with dwarves, standing room only. Selquist, his friends, and the lamb squeezed their way through the entrance in the back and pushed and shoved their way forward.
"Excuse me, pardon me, mind my foot!" Selquist prodded and poked the dwarves blocking his path. When they saw who it was, his fellow dwarves made sour grimaces, as if they'd mistakenly taken a big gulp of green beer.
"Who is it? What's going on?" the High Thane inquired mildly. He was a kindly dwarf, a baker by trade, who took a hopeful view of the future and, in consequence, always looked vaguely disappointed.
"It's Selquist, the Expediter!" someone said, sneering.
The High Thane's face took on a pained expression. He had once been hopeful about Selquist, but that hope had been dashed about a hundred years previous.
"Selquist," he said, "whatever it is you're,selling, we're not interested. We did quite well for ourselves tonight."
The High Thane indicated the pile before him: six bags of flour, a sack of bread, an ox-plow, and fourteen empty dwarf spirit kegs. To the side, near the exit, two full-grown sheep stood, eyeing the crowd with trepidation
"Congratulations," Selquist said. Turning around, he snagged Pestle, who had become mired in the crowd, and extricated him. "Since I see so much wealth here, I guess you won't be interested in the little gift I was bringing. I had heard," Selquist added in a flight of inspiration, "that it was your dear daughter Sugarpie's Day of Life-gift."
The other dwarves standing around looked stricken, all of them thinking in panic that they'd missed the High Thane's daughter's Life-gift Day and wondering how they could make up for the oversight.
Selquist presented Pestle, who presented the lamb.
The High Thane blinked. Behind him, a chubby youngster, who had Tjeen raised on her father's baked goods and who resembled nothing so much as a puff pastry, made animate, lurched forward, hands outstretched.
"Baa-baa. Me want!"
"But, Precious," admonished the High Thane, eyeing Selquist with a certain amount of suspicion borne of long acquaintance, "it isn't your Life-gift Day. Your Day was two months ago."
The dwarves standing around Selquist started to breathe freely again.
Sugarpie glowered and stomped her small foot. "It is my Day. Me want baa-baa!"
Her face crumpled. Two tearsЧsqueezed out with much effortЧtrickled down the fat cheeks. She flung herself on the floor, and those dwarves standing in the neighborhood stepped backed up a pace or two. Sugar-pie's temper tantrums were known and respected for miles.
"Don't disappoint the dear child," Selquist said Idndly. Bending down, he gave her a pat on the head and whispered encouragement. "More tears, kid. More tears."
Standing beside the High Thane, his wifeЧa formidable
woman with impressive side-whiskersЧshook those
side-whiskers reproachfully at her husband. He quailed
beneath mem.