"Joel Rosenberg - 04 - The Heir Apparent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rosenberg Joel C)

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That was a loss. James Michael Finnegan had always had pleasurable associations with swimming;
supported in a flotation vest, the pool had been one of the few places his disloyal body couldn't
betray him.

Swimming was one of the few things that Ahira missed from his days as a human. Perhaps the only
thing. It was hard to think of another. But swimming...

Humans swim as well as they commit treachery and cruelty, Ahira thought, and then was suddenly
ashamed of himself.

Some of his best friends were human, after all. Of all the people he loved, the ones he loved most
dearly were humans: Walter, his wife Kirah, JanieтАФalways special to himтАФand little Doria
Andrea Slovotsky. If D.A. wasn't the cutest baby in the universe, than it was because Janie had just
edged her out.

And then there was Karl Cullinane, who had brought him back, quite literally, from the
deadтАФKarl was human, too. As had been Chak, and all the others....

And he had been human, once.

He had been the crippled James Michael Finnegan, once. Nevermore, thankfully, nevermore.

Humans weren't all bad, though. But still... dwarves were different. As was where they lived, and
how they lived.

Night was a dangerous time north of the Eren regions. One of the few things that the large, clumsy
humans were good at was killing creatures they thought dangerous; dwarves preferred to avoid
dangers when they could, to fight when they must. A crusadeтАФbe it the rabid imperialism of some
of the Popes on the Other Side or what Ahira's human half still felt was Karl Cullinane's
completely justified crusade on This SideтАФwas something foreign to dwarves.

Moderation came naturally to dwarves, but even that was modified with judiciousness: moderation
in moderation. Violence was bad, of course, but still, one sometimes fought in self-defense. The
dwarven north was a cold land, with a short growing season; sometimes it was necessary to fight
for pay, as well. But only when necessary.

Only when necessary.

"Time to go in," Ahira said.

With a groaning that suggested a much greater age than his less than forty years, Walter Slovotsky
got to his feet, and belted his outer coat more tightly around himself.

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