"Robert Don Hughes - Pelman 01 - The Prophet Of Lamath" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hughes Robert Don)

Chaomonous was indeed called golden, but in fact most of its gold passed through Dragonsgate first-and the dragon
always got his share. The jewels of Ngandib-Mar, though, were the objects of his passion. He demanded and received
the finest Ngandib-Mar could send him: great, white gems the size of a giant's skull, and multifaceted, multicolored
stones that dazzled even in the moonlight. These were the beast's playthings, in the idle hours between
meals-caravans. Vicia, the dragon's left head, would grip a giant stone between his lips and toss it high into the air,
then would move out of the way of Heinox, the right head, who would try to catch it. It pleased the dragon to watch
the sparkling light dance through the gem as it twisted in the sky. The game was to see how many times a stone could
be tossed and caught before one of the dragon's heads misjudged and it was swallowed instead. Vicia-Heinox
swallowed a lot of diamonds this way. He was in constant need of a fresh supply.

And, naturally, he was also in constant need of food. Now, some dragons preferred to eat cattle. Others liked the sport
of catching flocks of birds on the wing, though this was indeed a seasonal type of meal. Some dragons, mostly of the
island-dweller varieties, really preferred seafood, and could move through the waterways as easily as they could soar
through the air. But Vicia-Heinox was a perverse sort of dragon, the kind that gave all dragons a bad name.
Vicia-Heinox took pleasure in talking to his dinner before he ate it. How the hideous beast came by this disgusting
proclivity for dinner conversation cannot be dealt with here. It must simply be said that this was an old habit, one not
easy for the dragon to break, even had he been so inclined. And this had resulted in a rebirth of the long-dead
institution of slavery.

Before the dragon straddled Dragonsgate-before it became Dragonsgate-slavery was viewed by civilized man as an
aberration of primitives, to be stamped out wherever possible. But that was long ago. When the dragon first came, he
didn't rest in the pass when he got hungry. He simply took to the wing, swallowing everything in his path. After the
entire populations of several cities disappeared into the dragon's belly, the rulers of the world agreed that something
had to be done. Royal armies, clothed in the brilliant livery of long-forgotten empires, marched on the beast from all
fronts. It was the last great march for many storied kingdoms.

It wasn't that Vicia-Heinox breathed fire. That is a popular misconception. Though few lived who ever witnessed the
beast's power displayed, those who did never mentioned any flames. Rather, the two-headed monster in some
unknown way generated heat-waves of burning heat-and, focusing on an object with all four eyes, would char it out of
existence. So went the combined arms of empires. So had gone every army raised against him since.

Now, Vicia-Heinox knew nothing about slavery. In fact, there were a great many things the dragon knew nothing
about, for he was not a very curious beast, nor was he particularly bright. But the merchants knew of it, and to them it
seemed the perfect solution to the otherwise insoluble problem of a dragon on their trade route. Hideous as he was,
Vicia-Heinox did not bear full responsibility for the evil system that kept him fed. But it did keep him fed. He therefore
preserved it.

On a day like most other days, the dragon lay on his back, playing with his baubles. He was not hungry, for only the
day before a large caravan from Lamath had passed his home. The Lamathian warriors were generally not as cagey as
the men of Chaomonous, but they were stalwart and level-headed. Some days before, a large troop of Lamathians had
ambushed a Chaon slave-raiding party as it made its way toward the Spinal Range and safety. It was a truism known to
all that "those who slave-raid are often slaves made," and most of the captured Chaons had served to subdue the
dragon's appetite. He rested now, digesting, playing with his jewels and talking to himself.

"I think," said Vicia, "that I ought to learn how to count." "Why should I?" Heinox replied, somewhat puzzled by the
idea.

"In order to play the game better," Vicia answered himself. "I have played it so long, yet what have I to show for it?"
"Nothing," Heinox answered. "But then, I don't have anyone to show it to, either. Nor any reason to show it. Nor any
reason to count-whatever counting is." "Counting is what the merchants do when they try to bargain with me," Vicia