"Clayton Emery - Netheril 03 - Mortal Consequences" - читать интересную книгу автора (Emery Clayton)

the gods have other tasks for us."
Absentminded, the big barbarian rested his hand on the warhammer tucked into his belt. The long
head bore a parrot's beak and crushing face, a tool for war, more a dwarf's weapon than a man's. "I've
carried this a long time, with a pledge," he said. "I told Dorlas's brethren in Dalekeva that I would one
day return the hammer to his kinfolk. I could return it now."
"Capital! A wonderful idea!" The thief exclaimed. Encouraged by the change, Knucklebones
hopped up and kissed his chin. "We can journey to the south, where we haven't been before, and learn
the news. Perhaps we'll find word of your tribe. Strange roads often lead to treasure!"
Without further ado, the barbarian walked off the dock and turned his back on the Narrow Sea,
stomping down the first muddy street tending south. Shaking her head at his obstinate nature,
Knucklebones scampered beside him.
A ghost of a smile creased Sunbright's face as he told her, "You realize this is just another quest,
another foolish need to satisfy honor."
"I understand, but your honor is all you have. Feed it to keep it strong," she laughed. "At least,
going south, we'll be warm."
"Sticky, muggy, buggy, and hot."
Sunbright tramped steadily past wagons and workers and shops.
"Warm like the sewers of Karsus," Knucklebones corrected. In celebration, she reached into her
pockets and dug out her brass knuckles, slipped them onto knotty fingers.
"Anticipating trouble?" the barbarian asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Wherever you go, there's trouble," she chuckled. For the first time in days, Sunbright chuckled
with her.
*****
"I knew we wouldn't be warm for long," Knucklebones groused.
"It's not cold." Sunbright flicked snow from his eyelashes as he said, "It's ... bracing."
"I need to brace myself, all right." Knucklebones said. She clutched a cedar bush jutting from the
rock face to her left. "Else I'll be blown clean off this mountain."
"You could dance on the head of a pin, you're so nimble," Sunbright chided. "I'm the one slipping
and sliding, taking two steps up and one back."
The two were again wrapped in sheepskin coats and mantles, tall boots, and wool leggings. Their
boots slipped often, and Sunbright needed to catch rocks and roots to climb the steep mountain path.
They'd climbed for three days, leaving the steppes and the last village far below. The vista to their
right had yawned wider with every step, miles of wintry valley dark with pines and sheltered meadows
dotted with sheep. A storm rushing over the Iron Mountains pelted them with snow and blotted out all
vision except their path.
"It's not far now," Sunbright called. "It can't be."
"How can you know?" Knucklebones sniffed. Her furred hood was rimmed with white flakes that
set off her shadowed face like a halo. "We could step to the moon."
"They said in the village the dwarves live below the treeline. We've climbed almost to where the
green stops and the rocks are bare. And this is the only path, ignoring a few forks, so we can't be lost.
Any minute now we'll probably smell smoke, or spook a sentryтАФwhoa!"
 The travelers stopped in shock. Around a bend, looming through the hissing snow, a trio of black-
eyed cow skulls stared at them.
Knucklebones whispered a charm, Sunbright grunted. The skulls were huge, from oxen he
supposed, bleached white and heaped with snow that trickled down the muzzles, one of which bore
deep axe marks.
"What are they?" Knucklebones asked. "Warnings, or just markers?"
"I don't know," he said. Yet without thinking, he drew Harvester from the back scabbard with a low
moan.
"Is it wise to bear your sword? Won't the dwarves, these sentries you speak off, take that amiss and