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

The two moons were just cresting Mount Celebund when Pestle and Mortar, packs strapped on their backs, knocked on Selquist's door. The two entered immediately, not waiting for an answer. If they waited for an answer, Selquist would know that it wasn't either of his two compatriots and would hide all of the incriminating evidence.
The evidence tonight was a map on the table and two more packs, filled with supplies and ready for travel.
"Did anybody see you?" Selquist asked.
"If they did, no one gave a damn," Pestle responded in hurt tones. "They're all hepped up over something. Moorthane is running around like his beard was on fire. I asked what was going on, but he just glared at me and told me to get lost"
"Draconian raid," Selquist said knowingly, with a glance out the window. "Two full moons makes it the perfect time for a raid, and the perfect time for us to sneak out. It's what's known as a diversion. Moorthane will be so busy wonking dracos, he'll never miss us."
This statement did not bring the whoops and cheers of joy Selquist expected. Instead, Ms companions appeared considerably alarmed.
"Wonking dracos! What's gonna stop the draconians from wonking us?" Auger demanded.
"They're after ale and dwarf spirits," Selquist said. "We won't be carrying any ale or dwarf spirits, so they won't be interested in us."
"We won't?" Mortar clung affectionately to an ale skin, hanging from his belt.
"We won't," Selquist said sternly. "This is a dangerous mission, and We go into it with clear heads. Well, at least as clear as some of us can manage," he added, rolling his eyes and jerking a thumb at Auger, who was generally acknowledged to have all the sense of a leaky water bucket.
The announcement of the dry expedition came as a shock to Mortar, who maintained that he couldn't stay regular if he didn't get his nut-ale once a day.
"Look, Mortar, we'll only be out in the wilderness for two nights," said Selquist, trying to lighten the dwarf's dark expression. "After mat, we'll be inside Thorbardin, and I know for a fact that they have lots of ale in Thorbardin. Now, come take a look at the map."
Selquist traced their route. "Celebundin's here, where I've drawn this circle. Tonight we cross it and sleep in the valley. We'll hike over mounts Bletheron and Pre-nechial tomorrow during the day. Tomorrow night, we'll camp on the far side of Mount Prenechial, and the next day we traverse the Helefundis Ridge."
"When do we go inside Thorbardin?" Mortar asked.
"How do we go inside Thorbardin?" wondered his brother.
"Right here." Selquist put a finger on the map. "There's an air hole from an old mine shaft. It's hidden, but I know where it is. We go down the air hole and into the mine. After that, it's a simple task of walking through the mine, and we pop out the other end into Thor-bardin."
"Go down an old mine shaft!" Auger was nervous. "Do you mean underground?"
"That's generally where mine shafts lead, yes," Selquist said.
"I've never been underground," Auger returned, round-eyed. "I'll bet it's dark," he added in low, unhappy tones.
"You'll like it," said Selquist, slapping him on the back. "You're returning to your roots. It's what dwarves were born to do: rappelling down steep cliffs, crawling on all fours on a tiny ledge over a bottomless pit, clinging like a fly to the wall with a seventy-foot drop onto jagged rocks, nary a hand or foothold in sight. By Reorx," Selquist said, drawing in a deep breath, "I can't wait!"
"I can," Auger muttered. He looked at Selquist suspiciously. "What's 'rappelling?' "
Selquist was not quite certain, having heard the word used once by the war chief. He made a hasty guess. "RappelЧa large, cave-dwelling bird. With a forty-foot wing span."
"No, I don't think so," Mortar said thoughtfully. "Rappel is the act or method of descending down a mountainside by means of a belayed ropeЧ"
"Oh, what do you know?" Selquist snapped. "Speaking of rope, I have all the climbing gear we'll need. Rope enough to tie ourselves to each other. The pass over Mount Prenechial is a bit treacherous. We don't want to lose anybody."
Auger looked highly alarmed. "First rappels with forty-foot wing spans and now treacherous passes. I don't think I like this much."
"The descent down the air hole is chock full of big rocks and crags," Selquist said soothingly. "If s easy to climb. Now, if there are no more questions, let's-^-"
"What about the rappels?" Auger wondered.
"What about them?" Selquist said, sighing. He was beginning to lose patience.
"If they're birds that big, what do they eat?"
"How in the name of Reorx do I know what rappels eat?" Selquist shouted. "What difference does it make anyway?"
"It might make a big difference, if they eat dwarf," Auger pointed out.
"They don't, all right? Rappels are known to be vegetarians. Now, can we get on with thisF
Selquist rolled his eyes, thrust the map into his belt. The other dwarves hefted their packs. Mortar took a long pull on his ale skin, then corked it and left it, with a sad good-bye, on Selquist's kitchen table, j
"Say, Selquist," Pestle asked, as they started out the door, "how do you know about this hidden mine shaft?"
Selquist shrugged. "Do you remember last summer when I was gone for a week?"
Auger nodded. "You said you were out hunting rabbits."
"I wasn't hunting rabbits. I was hunting for this air hole. I bought the information off a Hilar miner, and it cost me dearly, I can tell you. I went to see if my investment had paid off. I found the air hole, climbed down it, crawled through a mine shaft and"ЧSelquist snapped his fingersЧ"there I was! Smack in the middle of downtown Thorbardin."
The other three regarded Selquist with admiration.
"You never said a word!" Pestle remarked.
"Not even to us," Mortar put in.
"These things have to be kept secret," Selquist replied with becoming modesty. "Otherwise we'd have the whole village tumbling down that air hole. Now, we've wasted enough time. Let's go."
Selquist made certain, before he left, that all three locks were locked. Most dwarven dwelling places didn't even have one lock on their doors (unless they lived in a town populated by kender). Selquist was proof of the old dwarven adage that it takes a thief to suspect a thief.
The three hurried down the main road to the east. No one was walking about the streets, no lights shone in the windows. The women and children were locked up safe in their houses, their menfolk were gathered in the center of town, ready to defend their village from the draconi-ans. It was, as Selquist had anticipated, a perfect night to sneak out of town, avoiding annoying questions about where they were going and why.
Nearing the end of the street, Selquist called a halt. "Hold on. Let me check to see if they've posted a sentry." He crept forward, keeping to the shadows. He passed the last house on the road and turned along the fence-line. A few moments later, he returned.
"Yes, confound it. There's two sentries sitting on the far end of the fence. Gilbert's one of them, so I'm not too worried. He makes Auger here look intelligent."
"Gee, thanks, Selquist," Auger said, flushing with pleasure.
Selquist grunted. "We could try another way, but we've lost enough time as it is. The dracos are bound to hit soon. We'll chance it. Keep low, and keep quiet."
The three dwarves followed Selquist to the left. Crouching down, they crawled through a small apple orchard across from the last house. The shadows from the gnarled branches kept the four concealed. They were coming out tine far side, when a voice caused them to all stop in their tracks.
"Hullo," called out Gilbert nervously. He slid off the fence post. His hand fumbled for the axe at his belt. "I see you. Who... who's there?"
"May Reorx fry his head!" Selquist cursed. He stood up, gave a casual wave. "Oh, is that you, Gilbert?"