"Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman - Dragonlance Chronicles 1 - Dragons Of Autumn Twilight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weis Margaret)

Otik. Was this old man a Seeker spy?

"Eh?" The old man blinked. "You open?"

"Well . . " Tika hesitated.

"Certainly," Otik said, smiling broadly. "Come in. Gray-beard. Tika, find our guest a
chair. He must be tired after that long climb."

"Climb?" Scratching his head, the old man glanced around the porch, then looked
down to the ground below. "Oh, yes. Climb. A great many stairs .. ." He hobbled
inside, then made a playful swipe at Tika with his staff. "Get along with your work,
girl. I'm capable of finding my own chair."

Tika shrugged, reached for her broom, and began sweeping, keeping her eyes on the
old man.

He stood in the center of the Inn, peering around as though confirming the location
and position of each table and chair in the room. The common room was large and
bean-shaped, wrapping around the trunk of the vallenwood. The trees smaller limbs
supported the floor and ceiling. He looked with particular interest at the fireplace,
which stood about three-quarters of the way back into the room. The only stonework
in the Inn, it was obviously crafted by dwarven hands to appear to be part of the tree,
winding naturally through the branches above. A bin next to the side of the firepit was
stacked high with cordwood and pine logs brought down from the high mountains. No
resident of Solace would consider burning the wood of their own great trees. There
was a back route out the kitchen; it was a forty-foot drop, but a few of Otik's
customers found this setup very convenient. So did the old man.
He muttered satisfied comments to himself as his eyes went from one area to another.
Then, to Tika's astonishment, he suddenly dropped his staff, hitched up the sleeves of
his robes, and began rearranging the furniture!

Tika stopped sweeping and leaned on her broom. "What are you doing? That table's
always been there!"

A long, narrow table stood in the center of the common room. The old man dragged it
across the floor and shoved it up against the trunk of the huge vallenwood, right
across from the firepit, then stepped back to admire his work.

"There," he grunted. "S'posed to be closer to the firepit. Now bring over two more
chairs. Need six around here."

Tika turned to Otik. He seemed about to protest, but, at that moment, there was a
flaring light from the kitchen. A scream from the cook indicated that the grease had
caught fire again.

Otik hurried toward the swinging kitchen doors.

"He's harmless," he puffed as he passed Tika. "Let him do what he wants-within
reason. Maybe he's throwing a party."