"Lawrence Watt-Evans - Ethshar 2 - With a Single Spell" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watt-Evans Lawrence)

the significance of that "foreigner" could sink in.
"All right, boy, I said I should, not that I will. You can go, but I'll
keep an eye on you, and you better be telling the truth about waiting for a
recruiter."
Tobas nodded desperately, praying that the man hadn't recognized his
Pirate Town accent. The soldier seemed satisfied. He stepped back and allowed
the Freelander to get to his feet.
Beyond the soldier, Tobas could see that the sky was gray with the
approaching dawn and that already a few men, and one woman, the princess he
had seen almost two days before, were standing here and there about the
square, waiting for potential customers. Eager to be rid of the soldier, Tobas
headed directly for the nearest, a middle-aged man in green-dyed deerskin.
"Ho, there, boy," the man said at Tobas' approach. "Are you looking for a
quick and easy road to wealth and glory? I'm looking for a few brave souls who
are willing to help my homeland of Dwomor in its hour of need."
"What sort of hour of need?" Tobas asked warily. "A war?"
"Oh, no, my lad! Not a war at all! Merely a minor nuisance that's been
harrying a few of our far-flung mountain outposts."
"Bandits?"
Before the recruiter could answer, the soldier was at Tobas' shoulder.
"Is this the one?" he demanded.
Terrified at the prospect of being caught in a lie and sold into slavery,
as either vagrant or enemy alien, Tobas nodded. "This is he, sir."
"You're signing this boy up?" the soldier asked the recruiter.
The recruiter was not about to pass up an opportunity like this. "Yes,
indeed, sir, it's all agreed!"
"All right, then; get on with it." He turned and stalked away.
Tobas watched him go, then turned back to the recruiter and asked, "Now,
what's this nuisance of yours, bandits?"
"First, lad, I'll ask you to sign here." He pulled a document from his
sleeve.
"Oh, no!" Tobas protested, "not until I know what's going on!"
"Oh, indeed? Shall I call back that fine soldier and tell him I made a
mistake and that I never saw you before this morning?"
Tobas glanced at the soldier's retreating back and reluctantly accepted
the proffered pen. He signed his name neatly, "Tobas of Telven," then handed
back the pen and demanded, "All right, what's this nuisance?"
"It's not bandits, it's a dragon. It's been eating people up in the
mountains, and when it doesn't eat people, it eats sheep, which is almost as
bad."
"A dragon?" Tobas stared for a moment, then looked after the soldier
again, wondering how bad slavery could be.
"Oh, it's not that bad," the recruiter said. "And the reward is really
something worth having, the hand of a princess in marriage, a respected
position for life at Dwomor Keep, and best of all, one thousand gold pieces!"
Tobas gaped stupidly for several seconds. "A hundredweight of gold?" he
squeaked at last.
"That's right."
After all, he thought, how dangerous could a dragon be? Every
well-stocked wizard had ajar of dragon's blood on his shelves, and the legends