"Margaret Weis - Dragonlance Chronicles 01 - Dragons Of Autumn Twilight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dragonlance)

"You'll find out who hired us-sooner than you'd like!" snarled another goblin,
rushing at the distracted half-elf. Tanis turned quickly and disarmed the
creature. He kicked it in its stomach and the goblin crumpled over.
Another goblin sprang at Flint before the dwarf had time to recover from his
lethal swing. He staggered backward, trying to regain his balance.
Then Tasslehoff's shrill voice rang out. "These scum will fight for anyone,
Tanis. Throw them some dog meat once in a while and they're yours forev-"
"Dog meat!" The goblin croaked and turned from Flint in a rage. "How about
kender meat, you little squeaker!" The goblin flapped toward the apparently
unarmed kender, its purplish red hands grasping for his neck. Tas, without ever
losing the innocent, childlike expression on his face, reached into his fleecy
vest, whipped out a dagger, and threw it-all in one motion. The goblin clutched
his chest and fell with a groan.
There was a sound of flapping feet as the remaining goblin fled. The battle was
over.
Tanis sheathed his sword, grimacing in disgust at the stinking bodies; the smell
reminded him of rotting fish. Flint wiped black goblin blood from his axe blade.
Tas stared mournfully at the body of the goblin he killed. It had fallen
face-down, his dagger buried underneath.
"I'll get it for you," Tanis offered, preparing to roll the body over.
"No." Tas made a face. "I don't want it back. You can never get rid of the
smell, you know."
Tanis nodded. Flint fastened his axe in its carrier again, and the three
continued on down the path.
The lights of Solace grew brighter as darkness deepened. The smell of the wood
smoke on the chill night air brought thoughts of food and warmth-and safety. The
companions hurried their steps. They did not speak for a long time, each hearing
Flint's words echo in his mind: Goblins. In Solace.
Finally, however, the irrepressible kender giggled.
"Besides," he said, "that dagger was Flint's!"


2
Return to the Inn.
A shock. The oath is broken.

Nearly everyone in Solace managed to drop into the Inn of the Last Home sometime
during the evening hours these days. People felt safer in crowds.
Solace had long been a crossroads for travelers. They came northeast from Haven,
the Seeker capital. They came from the elven kingdom of Qualinesti to the south.
Sometimes they came from the east, across the barren Plains of Abanasinia.
Throughout the civilized world, the Inn of the Last Home was known as a
traveler's refuge and center for news. It was to the Inn that the three friends
turned their steps.
The huge, convoluted trunk rose through the surrounding trees. Against the
shadow of the vallenwood, the colored panes of the Inn's stained-glass windows
glittered brightly, and sounds of life drifted down from the windows. Lanterns,
hanging from the tree limbs, lit the winding stairway. Though the autumn night
was settling chill amid the vallenwoods of Solace, the travelers felt the
companionship and memories warm the soul and wash away the aches and sorrows of