"James McCann - Kith 1" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCann James)

friends were either dead or senile and, as for family, he figured it was rude to press a man
for information he didnтАЩt volunteer on his own.
Trent sat on the floor by the fire, as he did nearly every evening, completely taken in
by the imaginative tales. He was the old manтАЩs biggest fan, his only fan, and his only
friend.
тАЬSo what happened next?тАЭ
The storyteller smiled and stared past the embers glowing beneath the fire.тАж

Rafgard knew he couldnтАЩt hide behind the rock forever. He scanned the area for
something to use as a shield, as the great beast failed to sniff him out. A huge, unscathed
silver platter, nearly as large as the shields the longbow-men used, sat among a crest of
hard, melted coins. With plan intact he tip-toed to it. He knew, if he wanted, he could
sneak out and forget the whole foolish dare. But now, not only would he have the
Broadsword Fellows to deal with, but also an entire town. He wondered how History
would treat the man who ended the most celebrated festival by unleashing a vengeful
dragon upon the people.
Rafgard again took out his sword, but this time he used it to prop up the silver dish.
He didnтАЩt like the idea of losing his weapon, but he couldnтАЩt think of any other plan.
Hiding beneath the platter he scanned the cavern for an item worthy of taking. There was
a jewel-crested gauntlet close enough by the exit that he could scoop up as he dashed out.
Flame blanketed the cave; its heat causing the saucer to turn so red the metal
screamed. When the beast ran out of breath Rafgard leapt, rolling toward the gauntlet,
listening as the beast roared and closed its maw upon the silver platter. The student
faltered at the exit, wishing he had a deity to thank for his fortune. But he had no god,
and thus owed gratitude to no one for his triumph. And because he could share this with
no Higher Power he wanted one last look. After all, he had pulled off an exchange, not a
daring robbery. A jewel-crested gauntlet for a crude sword made by the Academy. He
turned and took one last look at the beast.
The giant lizard had not spit out the silver platter. It shook its huge head from side to
side, like a dog shaking its muzzle. It slithered, thrashing its tail against the walls, and
four tiny feet that Rafgard had not noticed before clenched as if in agony. Black pupils
collapsed as the surrounding emerald swelled, and tears as amber as the sun at noon fell
down its cheeks. It was the strangest sight Rafgard had ever seen, and he wondered why
it did not roar its discontent, but listening more closely he heard a horrible gurgle. The
monster had bitten the sword as well as the silver platter, and now the blade was stuck
through its jaw and nose.
The ancient beast helplessly choked on its own blood.
When it fell lifeless to the cavern floor the ground rumbled, nearly knocking Rafgard
off his feet. He managed to stay balanced by using a stance taught to him by the
Academy, but even when the world had stopped shaking he still had trouble standing; his
limbs felt like water. Had he killed a dragon?
Rafgard crept cautiously closer to its mouth, and relaxed when he could not feel any
breath. He peered in through its cracked tooth and saw his swordтАЩs hilt, pleased that he
would not have to lose the weapon. Glaring once again into its eyes, he considered how
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proud his father would be. Just as on that day when he had first learned the Academy had
chosen his son.
The news had come while they were sitting at the dinner table. He, his four brothers
and two sisters, had all finished one of his motherтАЩs famous meals; the best anyone ever
experienced. And after two years of the AcademyтАЩs cuisine, he had come to realise just