"Dan Parkinson - Dwarven Nations 02 - Hammer and Axe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Parkinson Dan)

Both men stopped arguing abruptly, suddenly aware of a shadow creeping from the
darker shadows surrounding them.

"Shirak;' whispered a voice, and a bright light flared, gleaming from a crystal
ball clutched in the golden, disembodied claw of a dragon atop a plain, wooden
staff. The light illuminated the red robes of a magic-user.

The young mage walked toward the two, leaning upon has staff, coughing slightly.
The light from his staff shone upon a skeletal face, with glistening metallic
gold skin drawn tightly over fine bones. His eyes gleamed golden.

"Raistlin;" said Tanis, his voice tight. "Is there something you want?"

Raistlin did not seem at all bothered by the angry looks both men cast him,
apparently well accustomed to the fact that few felt comfortable in his presence
or wanted him around.

He stopped before the two. Stretching forth his frail hand, the mage spoke,
"Akular-alan suh Tagolann Jistrathar." and a pale image of a weapon shimmered
into being as Tanis and Sturm watched in astonishment.

It was a footman's lance, nearly twelve feet long. The point was made of pure
silver, barbed and gleaming, the shaft crafted of polished wood. The kip was
steel, designed to be thrust into the ground.

"It's beautiful!" Tanis gasped. "What is it?"

"A dragonlance;" Raistlin answered.

Holding the lance in his hand, the mage stepped between the two, who stood aside
to let him pass as if unwilling to be touched by him. Their eyes were on the
lance. Then Raistlin turned and held it out to Sturm.

"There is your dragonlance, knight," Raistlin hissed, "without benefit of the
Hammer or the Silver Arm. Will you ride with it into glory, remembering that,
for I-luma, with glory came death?"
Sturm's eyes flashed. He caught his breath in awe as he reached out to take hold
of the dragonlance. To his amazement, his hand passed right through it! The
dragonlance vanished, even as he touched it.
"More of your tricks!" he snarled. Spinning on his heel, he stalked away,
choking in anger.

"If you meant that as a joke, Raistlin;' Tanis said quietly, "it wasn't funny:"

"A joke?" the mage whispered. His strange golden eyes followed the knight as
Sturm walked into the thick blackness of the dwarven city beneath the mountain.
"You should know me better, Tanis."

The mage laughed-the weird laughter Tanis had heard only once before. Then,
bowing sardonically to the half-elf, Raistlin disappeared, following the knight