"Mary Kirchoff, Douglas Niles. Flint, the King ("Dragonlance Preludes II" #2) (angl)" - читать интересную книгу автора

and personally overfilled a mug for the dwarf, scraping the
foam away with a knife.
"It's good to see you again, old friend," said Flint sincerely,
raising his mug and taking a long pull. He wiped his foamy
mouth with the back of his hand and said happily, "None
better!"
"Not Flint Fireforge!"
Flint heard a frawl's voice coming from around Mol-
doon's right arm. She stepped around to the innkeeper's
side, and Flint recognized her as the one he had seen lugging
kegs from the wagon outside. Indeed, as Moldoon drew her
forward, Flint noticed that she still held one on her left
shoulder. Staring unabashedly at Flint, she lowered it to the
ground. Her hair was the yellow-orange color of overripe
corn, and she wore it in long braids on either side of her full,
rose-red cheeks. She wore tight leather pants and a red tu-
nic, belted tight, revealing an unusually tiny waist for a
frawl.
Flint gave her a friendly, almost apologetic smile. "Yes, I
am, but I'm sorry, I don't remember you."
Moldoon threw an arm down around her shoulders.
"Sure you do! This is Hildy, Brewmaster Bowlderston's
daughter. She's taken over his business since he's been ill."
Hildy thrust her hand forward over the bar and gripped
Flint's firmly. "I've heard a lot about you, Flint. I'm a...
um, friend of your nephew, Basalt." She blushed.
Flint slapped his thigh. "That's why you looked familiar!
Haven't you two been friends since you were both in nap-
pies?" He winked and gave her an approving glance under

raised eyebrows. "Although you've grown up some since
then."
She smiled and blushed again, lowering her eyes. "I wish
Basalt would take notice," she began, but her smile faded.
"Of course he's not aware of much else but drink these days,
though, what with the tragedy and all." She reached out gin-
gerly and squeezed his arm sympathetically.
"Tragedy?" Flint's mug of ale froze halfway to his mouth.
His eyes traveled from the frawl's blue eyes to the innkeep-
er's rheumy ones and back.
Suddenly the sound of shattering glass rent the air. Star-
tled, Flint turned toward the left end of the bar, where he
saw the harrn who had held the door for Hildy. This same
dwarf was staring at Flint, his face a mask of terror.
The dwarf seemed stupefied, and he began gesturing
wildly at Flint. Flint was stunned.
"You're dead! Go away! Leave me alone! You're d-d - !"
The screaming dwarf struggled to get the last of the word
out, then finally quit in frustration. He covered his eyes
with his arms and sobbed.