"04 - Sea of Swords - R A Salvatore 1.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Paths Of Darkness)

could hardly believe that boots could make such thunder on a soft, mossy dirt
path.

* * * * * * * *

The clamor in Brynn Shander's Council Hall was less of a sur­prise to Regis. He
tried—he really did—to stay attentive to the proceedings, as Elderman Cassius,
the highest-ranking leader in all of Ten-Towns, led the discussion through
mostly procedural matters. Always before had the ten towns been ruled
independ­ently, or through a council comprised of one representative of each
town, but so great had Cassius's service been to the region that he was no
longer the representative of any single commu­nity, even that of Brynn Shander,
the largest town by far and Cassius's home. Of course, that didn't sit well with
Kemp of Targos, leader of the second city of Ten-Towns. He and Cassius had often
been at odds, and with the elevation of Cassius and the appointment of a new
councilor from Brynn Shander, Kemp felt outnumbered.
But Cassius had continued to rise above it all, and over the last few months
even stubborn Kemp had grudgingly come to admit that the man was acting in a
generally fair and impartial manner.
To the councilor from Lonelywood, though, the level of peace and community
within the council hall in Brynn Shander only added to the tedium. The halfling
loved a good debate and a good argu­ment, especially when he was not a principal
but could, rather, snipe in from the edges, fanning the emotions and the
intensity.
Alas for the good old days!
Regis tried to stay awake—he really did—when the discussion became a matter of
apportioning sections of the Maer Dualdon deepwaters to specific fishing
vessels, to keep the lines untangled and keep the tempers out on the lake from
flaring.
That rhetoric had been going on in Ten-Towns for decades, and Regis knew no
rules would ever keep the boats apart out there on the cold waters of the large
lake. Where the knucklehead were found, so the boats would go, whatever the
rules. Knucklehead trout, perfect for scrimshaw and good eating besides, were
the staple of the towns' economy, the lure that brought so many ruffians to
Ten-Towns in search of fortune.
The rules established in this room so far from the banks of the three great
lakes of Icewind Dale were no more than tools coun­cilors could use to bolster
subsequent tirades, when the rules had all been ignored.
By the time the halfling councilor from Lonelywood woke up, the discussion had
shifted (thankfully) to more concrete matters, one that concerned Regis
directly. In fact, the halfling only real­ized a moment later, the catalyst for
opening his eyes had been Cassius's call to him.
“Pardon me for disturbing your sleep,” the Elderman of Ten-Towns quietly said to
Regis.
“I-I have been, um, working many days and nights in prepa­ration for, uh, coming
here,” the halfling stammered, embar­rassed. “And Brynn Shander is a long walk.”
Cassius, smiling, held his hand up to quiet Regis before the halfling
embarrassed himself even more. Regis didn't need to make excuses to this group,
in any case. They understood his shortcomings and his value—a value that
depended upon, to no small extent, the powerful friends he kept.