Книга только для ознакомления
. He imagined a dozen deli-
cious ends for the useless creature and wondered briefly
which he would choose. When the time came, he knew, the
answer would provide itself.
The gap-toothed Aghar looked at him in confusion for a
moment longer. Then, like the sun emerging from a dense
overcast, a smile of understanding illuminated his features.
"Oh," he chuckled. "Mossweed not for Too-thee."
"Oh?" Pitrick's eyes narrowed. "Who, then?"
"Mossweed for queen! New queen of Mudhole like good
smoke!" the Aghar proclaimed, proudly. "Choose me, Too-
thee, to get for herl"
Mudhole, Pitrick assumed, was one of the pathetic gully
dwarf lairs on the fringes of Thorbardin. His outrage grew
at the thought of some Aghar sow enjoying his smoke...
But why? Why would a gully dwarf, who dined on worms
and garbage, be concerned about the quality of her smoke
weed?
"Tell me about this new queen of Mudhole," prompted
Pitrick smoothly. "After all, I represent the thane - the king
of the Theiwar. Perhaps he would be interested in meeting
your queen."
"No, no. Queen already have king. But thane could visit!
We throw big party for Queen Furryend and King Flunk and
thane!"
"Have Furryend and Flunk been your rulers for a long
time?"
"Oh, yes! Two days! Maybe more! King and queen, they
descend from mud, just like in property! They come down
to Mudhole two days ago!" The Aghar spoke freely now,
happy to pour out his knowledge for these Theiwar who
knew so little
|
