"Dennis L. McKiernan - Mithgar - Eye of the Hunter" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKiernan Dennis L)

It took one more trip for them to transfer the needed supplies into
the stone ruins. While the Elves busied themselves with the bundles,
Gwylly and Faeril set about trying to find wood for a fire. Although the
Warrows did find a stable of sorts out to one sideтАФit, too, fallen into
ruinтАФ they found no wood to burn.
No sooner had the Warrows returned than B'arr stepped in through
the doorway, with Tchuka and Ruluk behind, the sledmasters having
staked their teams. B'arr laughed when Gwylly asked what they would
do for firewood, and so, too, did the other two sledmasters when the
buccan's query was translated into the Aleuti tongue. As B'arr and Ruluk
unwrapped whole frozen salmon and, using hand axes, began hacking
the fish into great chunks, Tchuka disappeared outside, returning in a
moment with what appeared to be slabs of dirt. To Gwylly's amazement,
the sledmaster set these afire.
"Turf," said Aravan, as if that explained all.
At the blank look on Gwylly's face, Riatha added, "Some call it peat.
Yet by any name, it burns."
Gwylly shook his head in rumination. "I saw the mound near the
stable, but I thoughtтАФ"
"тАФthat it was just dirt," Faeril finished for him, for it had been her
assumption as well. "But I should have known," she admitted, "for I am
from the Boskydells, I where there are fields of fireplace turf, near
Bigfen and I Littlefen both."
"Hah!" exclaimed B'arr, saying something aside to the other Aleutans
that brought smiles to their coppery faces.
Then he turned to Aravan. "No, not firedirt, Anf├й; it is ren m├╕kk . . .
you name, dung. From ren."
Now Aravan laughed. "Fewmets! Deer fewmets! Dried dung. Ah,
Sledmaster, thou dost show me the errors of my ways." Great grins
crinkled Gwylly's and Faeril's features, for Warrow and Elf alike had
been fooled.
Riatha too smiled, fleetingly, then grew somber, distracted, turning
her gaze toward the unseen Grimwall. "What appears to some as one
thing is oft completely different to the eyes of another, and even then its
true nature might not be known, might be something else altogether."
Gwylly stared into the glow of the dung fire, his thoughts miles away.
He watched as the writhing white plume of the pungent smoke was
borne swirling upward above the wall, where it was shredded by the
moaning wind. And the buccan wondered at what else they might
encounter that would fool them all, something perhaps deadly in its
deception.
B'arr stood, interrupting Gwylly's bodeful thoughts. "Mygga feed
span?" he asked, gesturing to a bag of cut salmon, his black eyes
glittering.
Gwylly's face lit up, and he bobbed his head. Faeril, too, nodded
animatedly.
At this indication from the Mygga, Tchuka and Ruluk grinned
widely, their strong teeth showing white against their black beards and
moustaches and bronze-like features.
B'arr took up a frozen slab of axe-hacked salmon. "Then wait. I