"I 03 - Brothers Majere" - читать интересную книгу автора (3))

"Reason? With a kender? That'll be a first!" the warrior muttered under his breath, closing the door softly behind him.
Caramon walked into the room, and his eyes widened in disbelief. Earwig stood on a small oaken table in the corner of the dining hall, hoopak in his hand, threatening the staff of the inn. Something white and frilly was on his head.
One of the cooks, a large portly man, brandished a huge butcher knife. "I'll chop off your ears!" he threatened, advancing on the kender.
"Cut out my eyes, too," taunted the kender. "Then I won't have to look at your ugly face!" Thwop! The hoopak flew out and slapped the man on the nose.
"Come on! Who's next? I'm the mighty warrior, Earwig Lockpicker!" He waved his staff in a wide arc as others attempted to approach. "Admired by men! Beloved by women!"
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Heaving a sigh, Caramon moved forward. Seeing his friend, Earwig warned, "Stay away from me, sir. I'm in the throes of the famous Kender Berzerkergang, which has not been seen on Krynn for hundreds of years!"
Caramon grabbed the staff as it arced toward his head, the wood making a loud slap on his palm that caused many in the room to wince in sympathetic pain.
"That's enough. Earwig." The warrior wrenched the hoopak from the kender's hand.
"Draw your sword, Caramon! Cut them down!" Earwig shrieked, jumping from the table. 'They attacked me!"
"Attacked you?" Caramon stared at the kender. "What in the name of the Abyss is that on your head?"
Earwig's face went from righteous anger to bland innocence in less time than it takes to tell it. "It's my hair, Caramon."
The warrior eyed the lacy headpiece wrapped around the kender's topknot. The headpiece looked familiar. It
wasЧ
"A garter!" the fighter said suddenly. Caramon's face flushed deep crimson. Reaching out, he snatched the piece of feminine underclothing from the kender's head. "I've heard of kender swiping lots of things!" he hissed into Earwig's ear, shaking the kender until his teeth rattled. "But how did you manage to steal this?"
"The problem, sir," the innkeeper spoke, stepping from the doorway where he had waited until the battle was over, "is that this . . . person . . . attempted to ... to stealЧ"
"Steal!" Earwig's eyes widened in indignation. "A kender . . . steal?" He could barely speak for the injustice of the accusation.
"Sir," the proprietor continued. "A young lady was sitting down to breakfast when this person ... uh ..."
Ignoring the flustered innkeeper, Caramon gazed sternly at Earwig. "What happened?" he asked with a
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sigh, knowing that he was in for a long and convoluted explanation.
"Well, last night I went to pick up Raistlin's staff that he left in the street, only when I reached out to grab it, the staff disappeared. I thought I'd better go look for itЧ you know, Caramon, how much your brother thinks of that staff. Well, anyway, I went back out Ч "
"I locked you in your room!" thundered the innkeeper. "Councillor Shavas wouldn't want him walking around town after dark," he added hastily, for Caramon's benefit. "The little fellow might get hurt."
"Hunh," grunted Caramon, frowning.
"Well, anyway," continued Earwig, deciding magnanimously to overlook being called "little fellow," "I walked around the town, and I saw a lot of cats, and I found this bar that looked like fun. And it was! A man there tried to kill me, Caramon! With a knife! What do you think of that? I fought him off. Thwack! Over the head with my hoopak. Then the most beautiful girl I ever saw in my life kissed me on the cheek. Just as if I'd been you, Caramon! By then I was getting kind of tired, so I came back here and found all these game pieces lying on the ground, so I picked them up and climbed back up the trellis and in through the window Ч "
"What?" the proprietor yelled.
"Shh!" Caramon insisted, feeling that they must be nearing the important part .
"I went to your room, and Raistlin's staff had come back by itself! Which is truly remarkable, except that I did go to a lot of trouble and it might have had more consideration. Then I couldn't remember my room number, so I went to sleep under the table and when I woke up, that woman was sitting down right on top of me and I saw that this part of her clothing was sliding down her
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leg. And if this"Чthe kender pointed at the garterЧ"had slid down and wrapped around her ankle, she would Have tripped and maybe hurt herself so I just took it off her. I guess you heard her scream, huh? After that she fainted. Then all these people jumped on me. For no reason!" Earwig added indignantly.
His face burning, still holding the garter, Caramon glanced around uncertainly, wondering what to do.
"I'll take :t, sir," offered one of the female servants.
"Yeah! Thanks!" Caramon handed it over in relief. "He didn't really mean to cause any trouble, Master Innkeeper. He just sort of found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time, I'll keep an eye on him after this. It won't happen again."
"I surely hope not," said the proprietor, somewhat mollified.
"Please give our apologies to the young lady," Caramon added, marching Earwig up the stairs.
"I thought maybe I'd get another kiss, Caramon," said the kender cheerfully. "Boy! That was fun!"
Raistlin stood at the window, staring down into the street below. There were hardly any more people out by day than by night. Those who were moving about on some business of their own walked with heads down, casting furtive looks this way and that. Raistlin had seen cities in the grip of plague. He could smell fear in the air. Now, he thought he could detect the same odor.
And there, shining against the white stone pavement, was the line.
Caramon walked into the room just behind Earwig, pushing the kender forward so that there would be no chance for him to escape. Raistlin slowly turned around from the window,
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"How are you feeling?" Caramon asked.
"How do I ever feel?" Raistlin snapped. Seeing Cara-mon's hurt look, the mage shook his head. "I'm sorry, my brother. I feel as if a crushing weight were on me. As if I'd been sent here to do something important, yet I haven't any idea what! And we don't have much time to do it!"
"What do you mean? We've got all the time in the world," said Caramon practically. "I've ordered breakfast. It'll be up in a moment."
"Time!" Raistlin turned back to the window, staring down at the white line. "'. . . To find the gate, to be there when the time arrives.' We have no time, my brother. We have only until the Festival of the Eye. Three days."
"Huh?" Caramon frowned.
"That's the poem you quoted, isn't it, Raistlin?" Earwig piped up. "I remember it, you see. 'Darkness sends its agents, stealthy and black, to find the gate, to be there when the time arrives.' I love stories, and that's as good as a story. Did I ever tell you the one about Dizzy Longtongue and the minotaurЧ?"