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

, "Thank you, Selquist. We'll... uh ... take the lamb."
The High Thane accepted the animal, transferring it to his daughter, who flung her arms around the creature in a hug that nearly choked it.
Pestle, watching, licked' his lips and thought regretfully of mint Jelly.
Task completed, Selquist bowed to the High Thane, then made his way back through the crowd, aiming for the huge keg of nut-ale, which occupied a prominent
place in one corner of the Hall. Before he reached it, however, a hand caught hold of the collar of his tunic, giving it an expert twist. Selquist was suddenly nose to nose with the grizzled, gray-haired, fierce war chief of the settlement.
"Contrary to your opinion, Master Selquist"Чthe war chief was red with furyЧ"we do not run the raids on the draconian camp for the benefit of you and your thieving scamps! It's us who take the risks, and, by Reorx, I'm getting sick and tired of seeing your skinny butt disappear through a crack in the wall when my brave lads are getting their brains knocked out!"
"No great loss there," Selquist muttered.
"What was the that?" The war chief dragged Selquist closer.
"I said, 'you're the boss, Moorbrain.'" Selquist squirmed, trying to free himself.
"It's Moorthane!" the war chief thundered. "My name is Moorthane!" He gave Selquist a shake. "Whatever you took, you bring to the High Thane to be distributed to those dwarves who are most needy."
"Fine, Moorbrain," said Selquist politely. "You go to that dear, sweet little child and tell her that you're taking her wee lamby away."
The war chief paled. Draconians with six-foot, saw-toothed, poisoned-edged swords were nothing compared to Sugarpie.
"Just heed my warning, you Daergar whelp," Moorthane growled, emphasizing his words with an extra twist on the collar, which left Selquist momentarily speechless. "I don't ever want to see you on a raid again. If I do, I'll bring a motion to have you Cast Out!"
The threat was a terrible one. A dwarf who is "Cast Out" is forever banished from his home and his clan. He becomes an exile, a wanderer over the face of the land. A Cast Out may be taken in by another clan in some other part of Ansalon, but he will have no voting rights
within the dan, will be viewed as essentially living on its charity.
Moorthane dropped Selquist to the floor. Rounding on his hobnailed heel, the war chief stalked off.
Selquist smiled at those dwarves standing nearby, who had been watching with stern approval. He straightened and smoothed his maltreated tunic. "Nice weather we're having," he said. "A bit hot, and I suppose we could use some rain, but otherwise great for outdoor activities."
The other dwarves, glowering, turned their backs. He heard the word "Daergar" repeated among them, but that was an old story, one in which he'd lost interest a long time ago. This threat to have him Cast Out. That was new. Admittedly Moorbrain was mostly blubber and bluster. A motion to have Selquist Cast Out of his clan would require a unanimous vote of all the dwarven heads of householdЧan unlikely occurence, though few of them numbered Selquist as a friend or even someone to whom they might stop to give a drink of water if he were dying of thirst in the desert
Selquist looked in vain for his companions. Upon the arrival of the war chief, the three had blended in with the crowd, leaving their leader to his fate.
Selquist poured himself a large mug of nut-ale from the huge keg in the back and settled down to put Moor-brain out of his mind and enjoy himself. The meeting droned on for another hour, as the dwarves discussed how the booty should be divided and how they were going to defend the village from the inevitable return raid of the draconians.
Certain that the war chief was fully occupied with matters of state, Sekjuist's three companions emerged from the thickest part of the crowd and came to join him.
"Did I hear Moorthane right?" Mortar demanded, aghast. "Did he threaten to have you Cast Out?"
"Bah!" Selquist brushed it aside. "He can try, but he'll never get the votes. My mother will stick up for me, for one."
The cither three eyed him glumly.
"Oh, sure she would!" Selquist protested.
"Speaking of your mother, he called you a Daergar," said Auger in low voice. "Doesn't that bother you?"
"No," Selquist said lightly. "Why should it? It's true. Half-true, at any rate. I'm half-Daergar. And I'm proud of my heritage. Ask anyone. They'll tell you that the Daergar are the most feared of all the dwarves, noted across Ansalon for being powerful warriors."
The DaergarЧkJr dark dwarvesЧwere also noted for being murderers and thieves, but Selquisf s companions wisely refrained from pointing this out.
No one knew much about Selquist's father, including his mother. Having imbibed a large quantity of dwarf-spirits during a Forge-day celebration, she had danced off drunkenly into the woods by herself. She had returned several days later with the incoherent tale of having partied with wood sprites. A search of the vicin-jty by her father turned up bootprints that were larger and heavier than those generally left by wood sprites, plus a knife and a quiver of arrows of Daergar make and design. When, several months later, the dwarf maid gave birth to a child, it was noted that he was also of Daergar make and design. Since the baby was half-Niedar, the clan accepted him, but they made it clear that they didn't have to like it.
They'd gone on making that clear for the next hundred years of Selquist's life. And now Moorthane was threatening to have him Cast Out. Oh, well. Selquist hadn't planned on hanging around this backwater settlement much longer anyway.
Under cover of the hubbub in the Hall, the four dwarves stood close together, while Selquist issued orders.
"Mortar, the High Thane likes you, plus you're his fourth cousin twice removed on his grand-uncle's side. You go to the High Thane's bakery tomorrow and sell him the tools."
Mortar nodded. He was the only one of the four whom the High Thane even remotely trusted.
"Don't take any trades," Selquist cautioned. "We want steel, not day-old bread. And we don'tЧ"
They were interrupted by the breakup of the meeting. The warriors headed for the keg of nut-ale, filling their mugs and then lacing them with dwarf-spirits. The warriors would spend the rest of the day bragging about their exploits during the raid. Four of the women marched off, going to collect their husbands, who had been left behind at the draconian settlement. Two well-armed warriors went with the women to ensure their safety, more from the occasional savage animal in the area man from the draconians.
Selquist turned to find the High Thane standing behind him. "So, Selquist," said the High Thane, stroking his beard, which was perpetually streaked with flour, "what prompted you to such a display of generosity tonight? I trust," he added hopefully, but without much confidence, "that this means you are planning to forge a new hammer, as the saying goes."
Selquist smiled. "I am merely fulfilling my moral obligation to the community. High Thane, as would any other productive member of this clan."
"I wish I could believe that, Selquist." The High Thane gave a pious sigh. "You're half-Neidar, after alL But I can't forget that your other half is Daergar."
Selquist's smile broadened. "Something I'm never allowed to forget myself," he said pleasantly. "Permit me this gesture tonight, O High Thane, and perhaps return the favor sometime. I do hope your daughter enjoys the lamb."
"I know I would have," Auger muttered. "Roasted."
Selquist trod on his friend's foot to silence him.
"Gould I offer you a mug of nut-ale, Respected High Thane?"
Selquist drank a mug of ale with the Thane, just to be companionable, but as soon,as politely possible, he ditched the old fart and, rounding up his friends with a glance, left the Hall.
The Celebundin dwarves belonged to the Neidar Clan of dwarves. After the Dwarfgate WarЧa war brought on by the refusal of the Hilar dwarves to assist their kinsmen following the CataclysmЧthe Niedar dwarves were forever barred from the hallowed halls of Thor-bardin. The Neidar seat on the Council of Thanes within Thorbardin now stands empty.
All that was ancient history. Various parties, attempting to foster peace among the inhabitants of Ansalon, have suggested that the mountain dwarves, if properly approached, would graciously allow their kinsmen to return to the mountain. The hill dwarves have always replied that they would rather be strapped to a gnomish device without benefit of earplugs man come crawling back to the ancestral home. Neider pride had never recovered from the insult and most fikely never would.
As for the Daergar, they had split off from the main clans in Thorbardin following an unsuccessful attempt to seize control from the Hilar. Delving even deeper into the labyrinthine caves of Thorbardin, the souls of the Daergar grew dark as their surroundings. The Daergar ruler is always the most powerful of the warriors of the clan and keeps his rule by staying alive. Daergar are excellent thieves and are known throughout dwarfdom as the most dexterous and dishonest of all dwarves, traits that Selquist had inherited.
From an early age, he had shown a talent for what the kender term "borrowing." Unlike a kender, Selquist knew full well how he came by his acquisitions and what to do with them once acquired.
Selquist and Auger bid good-night to the brothers Pestle and Mortar and walked back to their own house. The two lived together as young bachelors, not yet having settled on wives. Auger fell in love about once a week, but when the word "marriage" was mentioned, he broke out in hives. Selquist had no time for dallying with the opposite sex. He had plans to make, profit to generate. This night, he was working on one of his best.
Arriving at home, he unlocked the three locks, entered, lit the lamp, and settled down to work. This meant that he lounged in the best chair, while Auger sat at the desk and wrote down Selquist's orders.
"We'll need food to last us until we reach the Daergar clan homes. After that, we can scrounge," Selquist dictated.