Книга только для ознакомления
. The startled soldier snapped
to attention, then just stood in the doorway, unsure of what
to do next.
Pitrick reached toward his five-headed amulet but then
stopped and withdrew his hand. This guard was here for a
reason, after all.
"Have you a message, clod?" Pitrick snapped. He could
feel a chill draft blowing across his feet, and knew that his
cozy rooms would quickly grow cold.
"I was sent from the North Warren, Excellency. The duty
officer there requests that you come at your earliest conven-
ience."
This is unusual, Pitrick thought. "For what reason?"
"We captured an Aghar, Excellency. The duty officer felt
that you should see him." Pitrick could tell from the dwarf's
tone that he was frightened, probably thinking that bearing
such a trivial request to the thane's unpredictable adviser
was flirting with death.
Pitrick enjoyed that part of his reputation. "Why bother
me with this? I am not concerned with the comings and go-
ings of thieving gully dwarves. Deal with him in the usual
manner and be done with it... unless there's something
more to it that you haven't told me?"
The messenger was sweating now, rivulets coursing
down his neck beneath his close-fitting armor
|
