"Dan Parkinson. The Gates of Thorbardin ("DragonLance Saga Heroes II" #2) (angl)" - читать интересную книгу автора

At the thought of Chane Feldstone, Chess looked back
the way he had come. The dwarf had said something
about wanting a sword. Chess snooped for a while
longer, then decided there was nothing to see here that
was more unusual than what he had already seen. He
went back to where he had left the dwarven sword,
hoisted it on his shoulder, and started back, more or less
retracing his steps. Chess had in mind to leave the sword
somewhere that the dwarf would be likely to pass - if he
came north at all - so he decided he would retrace his
steps to the black road.
"So long," something seemed to say.
Chess turned, looking all around, yet no longer ex-
pecting to see someone. "Oh, yes," he said. "So long to
you, too."
The silence seemed puzzled and suddenly very sad.
"So very long," it seemed to say.
Chess didn't know what to say to that, so he said noth-
ing and went on his way. The sun sank below the valley's
west wall, and the forest became a shadowy place. Here
and there, little mists formed above the leaf mold to drift
vague tendrils among the trees. Chess wandered, paus-
ing to look at a bright stone, a bird's nest, a scattering of
bones where some predator had fed. Whatever caught
his eye, he inspected. Whatever came to hand, he picked
up. Whatever appealed to him - if there was space for
it - went into his pouch. It was the way of all the kender,
and Chestal Thicketsway was no exception.
In evening shadows, somewhere near where he ex-
pected to find the black road, he came across another
gnomish artifact - an ancient, fallen construct that might
once have been a catapult, except that no one could con-
ceivably have operated a catapult so huge and complex.
He walked around and through the overgrown wreck-
age, trying to imagine how the thing might once have
looked - a huge, impossibly complex machine standing
at least a hundred feet tall on four gigantic wheels with
spiked iron rims... endlessly intricate systems of pul-

leys and gears, levers and winding mechanisms, steam
boilers and windvanes... and probably half a hundred
whistles, bells, and ratchet-rattles.
Little was left of it now. What had been wood was en-
tirely gone. What had been stone was rubble. What had
been iron was designs of rust imbedded in the ground.
But he traced it out, and could surmise what had hap-
pened. Here an army of gnomes had built a siege engine
and had set it off. Possibly it had thrown a missile, but
definitely it had thrown itself. The entire machine had
climbed up onto its throwing arm, flipped over and