Книга только для ознакомления
.
Could Hanak be right about mountain dwarves infesting
Hillhome?
Flint felt a strong hand squeeze his shoulder. "If my kin-
folk were dealing with devils, I'd go have me a look," Hanak
said kindly. "May Reorx guide you." With that, he strolled
out the door of the grocery, leaving Flint to his troubled
thoughts.
Amos slammed a brown, wrapped bundle onto the
counter before him. "Salt, a bag of apples, four eggs, a slab
of bacon, one jar of pickles, two loaves of day-old bread,
four pounds of the richest Nordmaarian chicory root
known to man - and dwarves -" He snickered "- a vial of
tar to fix those creaky shutters before winter sets, and the
long-awaited malt rum," he finished with satisfaction.
Flint reached into the pocket of the vest over his shoulder
and said distractedly, "You can leave the tar. I won't be here
to see winter reach Solace."
Noting the dark tone in the dwarf's voice, Amos looked at
his friend with concern, but he knew better than to ask ques-
tions. The shopkeeper had never seen Flint so preoccupied,
even when those young, troublemaking friends of his were
in town
|
