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

rubbed.
Flint's good mood ebbed as he was forced to agree with
the shopkeeper. Solace was not the same friendly village it
had been before the seekers had encroached on it in the last
few years.
"But what am I saying?" Amos forced his mood to
brighten. "You didn't come here to listen to my woes.
Where's your list? I'll rustle up your goods." Amos elbowed
the dwarf conspiratorially in the ribs. "Got that bottle of
malt rum you've been waiting for, too." Taking the scrap of
parchment Flint held up in his hand, Amos cackled as he
shuffled off to collect the dwarf's groceries.
"Thanks, Amos," Flint called softly, absently scanning the
shelves around him.
He saw huge clay jars of pickled cucumbers, onions, and
other vegetables. The smell of vinegar lingered thick around
here, and Flint moved away. The dwarf passed a row of bar-
rels, containing rye and wheat and oat flours, and then
smaller bins with sugar and salt. Opposite these was a wall
of spices, and he read their odd names with amused curios-
ity: absynt, bathis, cloyiv, tumeric. What made people add
such bizarre things to their food? the dwarf wondered. What
was wrong with a plain, sizzling haunch of meat?
Flint was looking at a tin of salted sea snails, a treat he
hadn't had in years, when he heard someone beside him say
in a gravelly voice, "So there is another hill dwarf in this
town! I was beginning to feel like the proverbial hobgoblin
at a kender Sunday picnic," boomed the stranger, clapping
Flint on the back merrily. "Hanak's the name."
Flint took a small step sideways and looked at the
speaker. He was nearly big nose to big nose with another
dwarf, all right. Wild, carrot-red hair sprang from the other
dwarf's head like tight metal coils, and between that and a
poker-straight beard and mustache were eyes as clear blue
as the sky. Flint tried to judge his age: the lines on his face
were not too deep, but he was missing his two front teeth,
though whether from aging or fighting Flint could not say.

The strange dwarf wore a tight chain mail shirt and a
well-worn cap of smooth leather. His high boots were light,
almost like moccasins, but showed the wear and stain of
much travel. Hanak smacked his lips and rubbed his hands
together as he looked at the shelves of food.
"You must be new to Solace," said Flint noncommitally.
Hanak shrugged. "Just passing through, actually; I'm
headed for Haven. I hail from the hills south of here a good
ways, almost down to the plains of Tarsis. Never been this
far north before," he admitted.
Flint turned back to his shopping but then felt the other
dwarf's eyes on him.