"Margeret Weis & Don Perrin - Dragonlance - The Chaos War 01 - The Doom Brigade" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weis Margaret)

but our losses were considerably less.
"We fought our way in and out using fists and tails and a little magic. No one died
on either side. There were bruises all around and broken bones, but they healed. And,
I am pleased to note, when the hill dwarves raided us a month later, they carried no
weapons. Thus a tradition was born. It has become ah unspoken covenant between the
two settlements.
"I know it's frustrating," Kang admitted. "I know that you'd like nothing better
thaft to rip off a dwarf's head and stuff it down his throat. I feel the same way. But we
can't give mem the satisfaction.
"Understood? Then, dismissed."
"Three cheers for the commander!" Slith yelled.
The troops cheered, heartily enough. They respected and admired their leader.
Kang had worked hard to gain their respect, but now he was wondering if he'd truly
earned it. Oh, sure, it had been a good speech, but when all was said and done, what
victory had the draconians really won? Living behind a wall, fighting constantly to
survive, and for what?
All they lived for was to get drunk every night and tell the same blasted war stories
over and over and over.
Why do we even bother? Kang wondered morosely.
He traipsed back alone to his cabin to indulge himself in his hang-over.
An hour later, Slith knocked on Kang's door.
Kang's quarters were built into the main administration building in the center of
the village. Slith's quarters were on the other side of the same building. The armory
and tool shed were located in back.
Kang's quarters consisted of a large meeting room, with a small bedroom off to the
side. It was not luxurious, but it was comfortable. An oil lampтАФof dwarven makeтАФ
rested on a bare table. Kang sat in his chair, facing the door. A mug of dwarven ale
was ready for Slith. Kang had poured one for himself.
"That was a good speech today, sir," Slith said on entering.
Kang nodded. He wasn't in the mood for talk. Fortunately, he knew Slith would be.
"You're right, you know, sir. Our lives are pretty good at that The dwarves raid us,
take a few sheep and what weapons they can lay their hands on, and men we go and
do the same to them, swiping spirits and ale, tools and bread. Every time they raid us,
we pound 'em, push 'em back, and I come in here for ale. Believe it or not, sir, I find
some comfort in that. I know what to expect out of life."
Kang gave a glum shrug. "You're right, I suppose. Still, I keep thinking there
should be more to it than this."
"You're a dragon-spawned soldier," Slith said, nodding wisely. "You yearn for the
battlefield. You yearn to command troops in a life-or-death struggle, a struggle for
glory."
Kang took a sip of his ale, pondered this. "No, I don't think so. I don't feel like I'm
accomplishing anything. None of us knows how long we're going to live, but it won't
be forever. What will remain after we're gone? Nothing. We're the last of our race."
Slith laughed. "Sir, you can be the most depressing bastard I've ever met! What
does it matter what happens after we die? We won't be around to know the
difference!"
"I'll drink to thatf" Kaftg said moodily, and took a long pull on his ale.
Slith waited a few moments to see if his commander was going to cheer up, but
Kang remained stubbornly immersed in gloom. He stared into his ale, and watched the
flies buzz around the rag on which he'd wiped the rotten egg.