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

"Garth!" Hildy cried, coming to his side to uncover his
eyes. "It's OK. That's not who you think it is!" The big
dwarf resisted at first, then slowly allowed one eye to
emerge from above his folded limbs:
Garth was unusually large, well over four and a half feet,
and none of it was muscle. His rounded belly poked out be-
low his tunic, which was too small at every opening: the
neck was too tight, and his wrists hung at least an inch be-
low the cuffs.
"What's going on here?" Flint demanded, both irritated
and embarrassed by the strange incident.
Moldoon looked red-faced as well. "Garth does odd jobs
about town for almost everyone. He's a little simple - most
people call him the village idiot - and well, you two did
look quite a lot alike," Moldoon finished, his voice coming
faster.
"What two? What are talking about? Spit it out, man!"
Flint was just angry now.
"The tragedy," Hildy said dully.

Moldoon wrung his hands and finally said, "I'm sorry,
Flint. Garth was the one who found Aylmar dead at the
forge one month ago."

Chapter 3

The Terms

Thee general looked over the smoldering city below.
He saw the seaport of Sanction, wracked by forces both ge-
ological and mystical. Its people were being driven away,
the very earth beneath it changed by volcanic eruptions and
the rivers of lava flowing down to the Newsea.
He also saw what the tortured city would become: the
heart of an evil empire embracing all of Krynn. Sanction
would protect the nerve center of that empire with a barrier
of arms and with the awesome barrier formed by the Lords
of Doom. These three towering volcanoes stood at three
points of the general's view, spewing ash and lava, gradu-
ally changing the shape of the city and the valley. Active for
the past few years, the smoking peaks dominated Sanction

and the surrounding chaos of steep mountains.
The brown waters of the port, and the Newsea beyond,
marked the fourth direction, to the west. The Lords smol-
dered, oozing rockfire and slowly wracking the city below.
The Newsea beckoned placidly, a route that one day the
general's armies would follow on their path to conquering
the west. Clasping his heavy gauntlets to his hips, the gen-
eral peered through the narrow eyeholes in his mask,