Rides A Dread Legion. Raymond E. Feist

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ do without.’ He puffed again, looked more contented, and asked, ‘What brings you to Caldara, Alystan?’

      Alystan held his bow with the tip on the ground, a mannerism that Dolgan knew meant the Ranger was choosing his words carefully. The gesture always allowed him a moment to think. ‘I bring word of something strange and troubling. I seek your wisdom and counsel.’

      ‘Well, that sounds serious.’ He tossed the reins to Hogni and said, ‘Finish up here, boy, and then go help your father. I’ll be in the longhouse with our guest.’

      ‘Yes, Grandfather,’ said the young dwarf with a resigned sigh. The King might prefer that the ploughing was done correctly the first time, but he also enjoyed chatting with travellers in the longhouse over a flagon of ale. The youth smiled, it was barely two hours past breakfast, hardly the time his mother would approve of her father-in-law tapping the ale keg, despite his royal station. Putting the reins over his shoulders, Hogni flipped them and shouted, ‘Ha!’ The horse threw one impatient glance backwards as if questioning the young dwarf’s seriousness; another flick of the reins told the animal it was indeed time to return to his labours, and the animal reluctantly returned to dragging the plough through the rich mountain soil.

      Dolgan listened carefully as Alystan finished his narrative. The old dwarf was silent for a very long time, then said, ‘This is troubling news.’

      ‘You recognize this newcomer?’ asked the Ranger, before taking a long pull of the marvellous dwarven ale the King’s daughter-in-law had provided. She seemed irritated to the point of saying something, but held her silence before a stranger.

      Dolgan shook his head. ‘No. Although I would not have recognized the so-called “mad elves” from beyond the Teeth of the World before they ventured down to Elvandar.’ He turned and shouted, ‘Amyna!’

      Hogni’s mother appeared a moment later and said, ‘Yes, Father?’

      ‘Send Toddy to find Malachi. Have him join us here, please?’

      She nodded once and departed.

      Dolgan said, ‘Malachi is the oldest among us.’ He chuckled. ‘He was old when I was a boy and I’m nearing three hundred years, myself.’

      Alystan barely concealed his surprise. He knew that the dwarves were a long-lived race, like the elves, but he had no idea they lived that long, or stayed as robust as they apparently did. The old dwarf seemed content to smoke his pipe, drink his morning ale, and chat of inconsequential matters, such as how his human acquaintances fared along the Far Coast and in the Free Cities, or the news from Krondor, or further afield. It was clear to the Ranger that Dolgan was keenly interested in matters outside his own small demesne, which given the dwarves’ long history was understandable.

      An independent people, the dwarves nevertheless found their fortunes tied closely to those of their human neighbours and to a lesser degree, the elves in the north. Twice in the last hundred years, war had visited the west; first came the Tsurani invaders in the very valley where Alystan had seen the stranger, and later the armies of the Emerald Queen, from a land across the sea. The second struggle had involved the dwarves only indirectly, but its repercussions had echoed through the land for a long time. The west had been almost forgotten by the Kingdom for a decade, trade had been reduced to a trickle, and banditry and piracy had risen. Alystan’s grandfather had claimed that now things were back to the way they had been before the coming of the Tsurani; in fact, he had insisted life was better now, as the dark elves no longer hunted the Green Heart or the Grey Towers. Given the bloody history between the Rangers and the moredhel, Alystan was inclined to agree that his grandfather’s view had merit.

      Time passed, but Alystan, like all Rangers, possessed patience born of generations of woodcraft and hunting skill. A fidgeting hunter was a hungry one, his father had told him many years before on his first hunt.

      At last Toddy returned, slowly escorting the oldest being the Ranger had ever encountered. The dwarf moved with tiny steps as if he feared losing his balance. He was shrunken with age, so he barely stood a head taller than the boy, and he was slight of frame. In contrast to the robust stature of the other dwarves the Ranger knew, his appearance was startling. His skin was parchment-white and almost translucent, so the veins of his hands stood out over his swollen knuckles. He used a cane with his right hand, and the boy held him firmly under his left arm. His receding hair fell to his shoulders, whatever colour might once have graced his ancient pate now fled, leaving snow-white wisps. Cheeks sunken with age were marked with small lesions and sores, and Alystan knew this was a dwarf nearing the end of his days.

      The old dwarf looked about the room, and the Ranger realized that he must be blind, or his vision so poor that he might as well be sightless. Those in the room remained silent as he found his seat.

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4QAYRXhpZgAASUkqAAgAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP/sABFEdWNreQABAAQAAABaAAD/4QRbaHR0cDov L25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wLwA8P3hwYWNrZXQgYmVnaW49Iu+7vyIgaWQ9Ilc1TTBNcENl aGlIenJlU3pOVGN6a2M5ZCI/PiA8eDp4bXBtZXRhIHhtbG5zOng9ImFkb2JlOm5zOm1ldGEvIiB4 OnhtcHRrPSJBZG9iZSBYTVAgQ29yZSA1LjAtYzA2MSA2NC4xNDA5NDksIDIwMTAvMTIvMDctMTA6 NTc6MDEgICAgICAgICI+IDxyZGY6UkRGIHhtbG5zOnJkZj0iaHR0cDovL3d3dy53My5vcmcvMTk5 OS8wMi8yMi1yZGYtc3ludGF4LW5zIyI+IDxyZGY6RGVzY3JpcHRpb24gcmRmOmFib3V0PSIiIHht bG5zOnhtcFJpZ2h0cz0iaHR0cDovL25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wL3JpZ2h0cy8iIHhtbG5z OnhtcE1NPSJodHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvbW0vIiB4bWxuczpzdFJlZj0iaHR0 cDovL25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wL3NUeXBlL1Jlc291cmNlUmVmIyIgeG1sbnM6eG1wPSJo dHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvIiB4bWxuczpkYz0iaHR0cDovL3B1cmwub3JnL2Rj L2VsZW1lbnRzLzEuMS8iIHhtcFJpZ2h0czpNYXJrZWQ9IkZhbHNlIiB4bXBNTTpEb2N1bWVudElE PSJ4bXAuZGlkOjY1MkMzQkY0NkE3NTExRTI4MkUyQzYyQzNERDE4NkEyIiB4bXBNTTpJbnN0YW5j ZUlEPSJ4bXAuaWlkOjY1MkMzQkYzNkE3NTExRTI4MkUyQzYyQzNERDE4NkEyIiB4bXA6Q3JlYXRv clRvb2w9IkFkb2JlIFBob3Rvc2hvcCBDUzIgTWFjaW50b3NoIj4gPHhtcE1NOkRlcml2ZWRGcm9t IHN0UmVmOmluc3RhbmNlSUQ9InV1aWQ6Q0VGOUFEREVEMjZFMTFEREFDODQ5RTRGMjFDMTk1RjIi IHN0UmVmOmRvY3VtZW50SUQ9InV1aWQ6NjUyQTEwMTE4N0RGMTFERDk2RUVBMzU3RkMzMjUxNjUi Lz4gPGRjOmNyZWF0b3I+IDxyZGY6U2VxPiA8cmRmOmxpPkZvcmJlcywgRG9taW5pYzwvcmRmOmxp PiA8L3JkZjpTZXE+IDwvZGM6Y3JlYXRvcj4gPGRjOnRpdGxlPiA8cmRmOkFsdD4gPHJkZjpsaSB4 bWw6bGFuZz0ieC1kZWZhdWx0Ij5SaWRlcyBhIERyZWFkIExlZ2lvbiBIQjwvcmRmOmxpPiA8L3Jk ZjpBbHQ+IDwvZGM6dGl0bGU+IDwvcmRmOkRlc2NyaXB0aW9uPiA8L3JkZjpSREY+IDwveDp4bXBt ZXRhPiA8P3hwYWNrZXQgZW5kPSJyIj8+/+0ASFBob3Rvc2hvcCAzLjAAOEJJTQQEAAAAAAAPHAFa AAMbJUccAgAAAgACADhCSU0EJQAAAAAAEPzhH4nIt8l4LzRiNAdYd+v/4gxYSUNDX1BST0ZJTEUA AQEAAAxITGlubwIQAABtbnRyUkdCIFhZWiAHzgACAAkABgAxAABhY3NwTVNGVAAAAABJRUMgc1JH QgAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA9tYAAQAAAADTLUhQICAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABFjcHJ0AAABUAAAADNkZXNjAAABhAAAAGx3dHB0AAAB8AAAABRi a3B0AAACBAAAABRyWFlaAAACGAAAABRnWFlaAAACLAAAABRiWFlaAAACQAAAABRkbW5kAAACVAAA AHBkbWRkAAACxAAAAIh2dWVkAAADTAAAAIZ2aWV3AAAD1AAAACRsdW1pAAAD+AAAABRtZWFzAAAE DAAAACR0ZWNoAAAEMAAAAAxyVFJDAAAEPAAACAxnVFJDAAAEPAAACAxiVFJDAAAEPAAACAx0ZXh0 AAAAAENvcHlyaWdodCAoYykgMTk5OCBIZXdsZXR0LVBhY2thcmQgQ29tcGFueQAAZGVzYwAAAAAA AAASc1JHQiBJRUM2MTk2Ni0yLjEAAAAAAAAAAAAAABJzUkdCIElFQzYxOTY2 СКАЧАТЬ