"Ed Greenwood - Forgotten Realms - Elminster 2 - Elminster In Myth Drannor" - читать интересную книгу автора (Greenwood Ed)

radiance in which small sparks danced and spun.
Elminster's face tightened, and his fingers danced behind his cheese. He looked down, as if
peering for his tankard, so that the others wouldn't see him muttering phrases. He had to quell this last
unleashing quickly, before real harm was done.
His spell took effect, apparently unnoticed by the other occupants of the taproom, and Elminster
sank back in his seat in relief, sweat gathering at his temples. He wasn't done yet; there remained the
small matter of somehow getting the scepter away from this old man, too. He had to have that scepter.
"Now," Surgath crooned, "I'm thinking that this little toy wouldn't look out of place in a king's
fist-and I'm tryin' to decide which one to offer it to, right now. I've got to get there, do the dickering, and
get out again without being killed or thrown in a dungeon. I've got to choose me the right king first off,
y'see . . . because it's got to be one that can pay me at least fifty rubies, and all of them bigger'n'my
thumb!"
The prospector looked smugly around at them, and added, "Oh, and a warning: I also found
some useful magic that will take care of anyone who tries to snatch this off me. Permanently take care of
'em, if y'take my meaning."
"Fifty rubies," one of the adventurers echoed, in awed disbelief.
"D'ye mean that?" Elminster blurted out, and something in his tone drew every eye in the room.
"Ye'd sell that, right now, for fifty rubies?"
"Well, ah-" Surgath sputtered, and his eyes narrowed. "Why, lad? You have that saddlesack o'
yours stuffed with rubies?"
"Perhaps," Elminster said, nervously nibbling on a piece of cheese and almost biting off the tips of
his own fingers in the process. "I ask again: is thy offer serious?"
"Well, p'raps I spoke a mite hastily," the prospector said slowly. "I was thinkin' more of a
hundred rubies."
"Ye were indeed," Elminster said, his tone dry. "I could feel it, clear over here. Well, Surgath
Ilder, I'll buy that scepter from ye, here and now, for a hundred rubies-and all of them bigger than thy
thumb."
"Hah!" The prospector leaned back in his chair. "Where would a lad like you get a hundred
rubies?"
Elminster shrugged. "Ye know-other people's tombs, places like that."
"No one gets buried with a hundred rubies," Surgath scoffed. "Tell me another, lad."
"Well, I'm the only living prince of a rich kingdom .. ." Elminster began.
Hauntokh's eyes narrowed, but Surgath laughed derisively. Elminster rose, shrugged, and
reached into his saddlebag. When his hand came out, he was holding a wadded-up cloak-to conceal the
fact that his hand was in fact empty-and to hide the single gesture that would release his waiting, "hanging"
spell.
As the adventurers leaned forward, watching him closely, Elminster unrolled the cloth with a
flourish- and gems, cherry-red, afire with the reflected flames of the hearth, spilled out across the table
before him.
"Pick one up, Surgath," Elminster said gently. "See for thyself that it's real."
Dumbfounded, Surgath did so, holding it up to the light of the whirling scepter. His hands began
to shake. Karlmuth Hauntokh snatched one, too, and squinted at it.
Then, very slowly, he set it back on the table in front of the hawk-nosed youth, and turned to
look around the taproom.
El dropped his gaze to the man's hairy hands. Yes, his ring definitely matched the symbol borne
by the brigands.
"They're real," Hauntokh said hoarsely. "They're more real'n'that." He jerked his thumb at the
scepter, looked down at his own golden bauble, and shook his head slowly.
"Boy," Surgath said, "if you're serious ... this scepter is yours."
Men and women were on their feet all over the room, goggling at the table strewn with sparkling