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

'Indeed,' I interjected before Hendrek could become further embroiled in the discussion. 'But has Hendrek hit upon the truth?'

'Is it fear?' The demon paused, and looked away from us to stare out into the middle distance. 'In a way, yes. I fear it is this constant battle with my homeland. Even though I am a demon in exile, still I am a demon. When, at first, it seemed as though we had one great battle to win - to rescue Vushta from the Netherhells and defeat Guxx Unfufadoo, who I never much liked in the first place - well, that was a fight I could believe in. But now ..." Snarks sighed.

'I was fine until I went back there,' he continued. 'I could have visited my mother, you know, when we returned to the Netherhells. But I chose to slink around like an outsider, as if my time with humans had tainted me.' The demon looked from Hendrek to me and back again. 'Which, of course, is a distinct possibility.'

'Doom,' Hendrek interjected, refusing to be lured away from the real topic. 'Then you fear your mother?'

'Well, of course!' Snarks replied. 'If your mother was a demon, you'd be scared of her, too! But that, I think, is beside the point. Returning to the Netherhells has dredged up old memories, and old emotions. Now, we find our battle

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might not be over. My real fear is that, the longer the battle lasts, the more these emotions will overwhelm me!'

'Doom!' Hendrek stated with grim finality.

'Indeed,' I added, to show that I realized the weight of Snark's problem as well. But I was afraid to share the rest of my thoughts.

I was chilled by how his complaints seemed so similar to those of my beloved. Both were tired of battle, and both seemed to be no longer quite themselves. I could think of no two creatures among my close acquaintance so dissimilar as Snarks and my young witch. Odd, then, that the demon's feelings should so echo those of Norei.

'Hello.'

The mild voice was so close behind my shoulder that it made me jump. The black-garbed Dealer of Death strolled into our midst.

'I hear you are discussing problems. I, too, have a problem.' The Dealer absently flexed his powerful hands. 'One more profound than the recent shortage of wild pigs in the vicinity.' He paused and looked at me, his usual smile gone from his face.

'You know, of course,' he said slowly and precisely, being careful to flex his jaw and cheek muscles, 'that I still hold a contract to assassinate at least three of you.'

'Doom.' Hendrek's hand moved quickly to the hilt of his warclub. Perhaps the warrior had hoped, as I had, that our time fighting side by side with the Dealer of Death had somehow negated the death contracts the assassin had on Hendrek, the wizard, and myself.

'There is no need to be hasty, good warrior,' the Dealer remarked as he idly flexed his legs, 'although the exercise certainly would be pleasant. Let me first tell you my thoughts on said problem.'

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Faster than the eye could see, the assassin snatched a buzzing gnat from the air and captured it within his closed fists. "Tis a funny thing about contracts. You might recall that there is no termination date on this particular piece of parchment. You might also recall that, through the wiles of the contractee, King Urfoo the Stingy, I end up paying to kill you rather than getting paid for my services.'

The Dealer paused to clear his throat. Talking about this particular clause of the contract, especially since he was personally responsible for its negotiation, seemed to affect him emotionally. But at last the Dealer smiled, and as he began to speak again, he lifted aloft the hand that held the gnat.

'Because of these complications, I had thought about delaying said contract's completion. I was wondering if we might agree upon some future occasion, say perhaps when we meet in some future lifetime.' The Dealer opened his fist, and the gnat flew away.

'Doom,' Hendrek murmured, his voice tinged with relief.

'However,' the Dealer continued, 'life is seldom as simple as that. I also have my superiors in the Urracht sect to consider. It might be fine now to make a decision to delay your deaths, but what happens when my actions come up for their quarterly review?'

'Quarterly review?' Hendrek repeated, his hand once again reaching for the warclub. 'Doom.'

The Dealer nodded soberly. 'The good assassin is accountable for every death. It's right there in our bylaws. The Urracht is a strict sect, but fair.'

The Dealer stretched, languorously extending his huge shoulder muscles. 'Before, as the battle was being joined, there was no time to think of contracts. Now, although I welcome the fact that the battle might soon be joined again, I worry more about just when such contracts should be