"Mary Kirchoff, Douglas Niles. Flint, the King ("Dragonlance Preludes II" #2) (angl)" - читать интересную книгу автора That same explosion tore apart the Plains of Dergoth once
again, and marshes crept over the surrounding land. Flint had no interest in wading through a swamp - his fear of water was legendary among his friends in Solace. So it was that he chose to climb through the low mountains to the northeast of the narrow pass that cut through the peaks to Hillhome. Flint took his time in finding a clearing just to the east of the pass and off the Passroad, then in collecting and igniting the right logs for a hot, long-lasting fire, and fi- nally in sizzling the last of the fat slab of bacon he had brought with him from Solace. As darkness settled, Flint re- laxed. I'll miss this solitude, he thought, sighing. He looked at the Passroad, just a little below his camp. Deep ruts ran along its length. Whereas in the past it had borne only the traffic of.sheep- and goat-herders, or the oc- casional farmer's cart, now the road was wide and well- worn. Flint recalled the building of the Passroad from his child- hood, though he had been too young to help with the work. The hill dwarves had labored for several years to smooth out the grades, lay a stone foundation over the swampy stretches, and create a route that could, someday, connect Hillhome to the not-so-distant shore of the Newsea. The immediate purpose of the road had been to open up and this had occurred to a limited extent. Still, in retrospect, the road had not been very profitable, considering all the work. Suddenly Flint's thick body tensed like a mandolin string. He was not alone. The dwarf's first warning was a vague perception, not re- ally sight but more sound, of something approaching from the southwest. Wooden wheels crunched over gravel. Flint turned from the low fire to the pass, and his infravision - the natural, temperature-sensing ability of dwarves that al- lowed them to see objects in the dark by the heat they radiate - quickly adjusted. A heavy, broad-wheeled wagon, looking more like a huge rectangular box, rattled up the rutted Passroad from the di- rection of Hillhome. Who would be driving a wagon through the pass in the dark of night? Flint stepped from his fire to the edge of the road. Hun- kered over intently on the buckboard, the driver snapped a whip over the heads of the four-horse team that was labor- ing to pull the wagon up the steep incline toward the pass. The steeds snorted and strained, pulling an obviously heavy load. Flint could not determine whether the small figure of the driver was dwarven, human, or something worse. Now |
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