"Richard A. Knaak - Dragonlance - Lost Histories 4 - Land of the Minotaurs" - читать интересную книгу автора (Knaak Richard A)

"Sorry, Great One! Galump is sorry!" The dwarf bowed quickly, then ran off, his litter bag falling to the
ground as he rushed away in near panic.

"You! Come back here!" His cry went unheeded. Hecar watched as the gully dwarf disappeared into the
shadows. He was one of the quickest of the short creatures the minotaur had ever seen.

Hecar had more important things to concern himself with than chasing a gully dwarf whose only crime
was carelessness. The dwarf would likely be punished for losing his bag, and in the process littering the
very streets he was supposed to clean. But despite the compassion for unfortunate creatures that Hecar
had learned from his sister's mate, the minotaur could do nothing to help save pick up the bag and place
it neatly to the side.

He was just in the process of doing that when he heard the clink of metal. Tensing, Hecar stretched his
hands around toward his back. Most minotaurs favored heavy battle-axes and many, including Hecar,
carried them in back harnesses. All he had to do was reach a few inches more, and the axe would be in
his grasp, ready to taste the blood of any adversaries.

"May Sargas watch over you, Brother," intoned a voice.

Hecar lowered his hands as he turned. He knew the imperious tone, as did all minotaurs. A cleric of the
Holy Orders of the Stars. To humans, a minotaur cleric might seem a somewhat humorous sight, for,
unlike Hecar and most of his kind, who wore kilts and armor but little else, a cleric was usually clad in a
solemn black robe covering him or her from foot to head. The hood and shoulders of the robe were
crimson. Both colors were said to be favored by Sargas himself.

Only the cleric's muzzle was visible, the rest of his face shadowed by the hood. His hands were clasped

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together and, as he walked toward Hecar, there was the faint clink of metal, indicating that under his
garment the robed figure was both armed and armored.

Behind him trailed a pair of warriors with the look of the guard on their cold features. Members of the
guard were generally recruited from the more fanatical warriors in the armies. This pair carried long
swords as opposed to axes and looked ready to run Hecar through if he dared resist.

And what is it I'm supposed to resist? wondered the traveler. "May your ancestors guide you, Brother."

"You have business with Jopfer de-Teskos?"

"I sought out an old friend, Cleric. He wasn't home."

"So I know. How do you know him, Brother?" The cleric reached up and pulled back his hood. The
cleric was surprisingly gaunt for a minotaur and much younger than Hecar would have guessed.
However, the chill eyes warned that it would be a mistake to cross him.

"He's an old friend. I've just arrived here and thought I would visit since I was close by."

"Did you come by ship?"