"01 - A Difficulty With Dwarves" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gardner Craig Shaw)

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to escape this overamorous beast, 'But I have errands -'

'Oh, yes, the meeting at the willow tree with the wizard. I overheard you from the alleyway.' The magnificent beast sighed. 'I've come this far, I can wait a little longer. I'll join you at the willow tree with the others. Then' - the beast paused significantly - 'we'll talk again.'

I hastily agreed, and ran down the street toward the Vushta Art Theater. Time was growing short, and I had to fetch two more of our company. I sped about the corner and caught my first glimpse of the towering edifice that housed the theater. The first time I had come here, I had been quite taken aback by the size of the place, until I thought for a moment and realized how large a stage they would need to have to accommodate a tap-dancing dragon.

I walked in through an entranceway marked Stage Door, waving my stout oak staff at the elderly man who shouted at me from the stool just inside. There was no time to tarry now, and no need to ask directions. I could hear the pair I sought rehearsing in the distance.

'Hit it, damsel!' the great, deep voice of Hubert the dragon exclaimed. He was answered in song by one of the sweetest sopranos I have ever heard.

'Listen all you Vushtans, you'll be glad you came! We'll tell you of a young man, and his claim to fame. He might not be too bright. But still he did all right. We've got a hero, and Wuntvor is his name!'

The two then repeated the last line, singing together, followed by a spate of very loud tap dancing. I climbed a flight of stairs and crossed an area filled with large painted canvases depicting various scenes from both Vushta and the

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countryside. Some of them even seemed to suggest a forbidden delight or two.

The singing sounded much closer when they began again. Taking an extra moment to study a couple of the finer canvases, I neglected to watch where I was going and thus tripped over something that looked like rock but was nowhere near as heavy. The thing that wasn't a rock slipped away from me at alarming speed. I grabbed at a nearby canvas to steady myself. Unfortunately, the painted backdrop did not appear to be well secured either, and fell firmly over my head, covering my entire body and the floor on either side for some distance.

This was terrible! How could I fulfill my master's wishes if I was trapped in canvas? I could barely move beneath the weight. One misstep and I would stumble completely into the tangling cloth. Still, somehow I struggled toward the singers' voices:

'Now Wuntvor is so clumsy, it's a wonder he's not

lame!

When he carries something, beware despite his fame, His marching down the street For he has two left feet. We've got a hero, and Wuntvor -'

The song was interrupted by a piercing scream. Alea's scream!

Something was wrong! Damsel and Dragon were in danger, and I was trapped in my painted prison, unable to come to their aid! I tried to call Alea's name, but my voice was muffled by the endless yards of canvas.

I stumbled against something hard.

'Have no fear, Alea!' Hubert's voice cried. 'I've got

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this hideous creature now! Should I fry it where it stands?'

At that moment I finally discovered the end of the canvas, and rapidly pulled my head through the newly found opening. I looked straight up into a dragon snout.

'Then again,' Hubert remarked, 'perhaps I shouldn't.'

'Wuntie!' Alea called, her voice tinged with delight.