Slathbog's Gold - Forman Mark L (читать книгу онлайн бесплатно без .TXT) 📗

“Tired of the journey already?” Arconn asked with a smile.

“No,” Alex replied. “I was just wondering how far away the hills are. Bregnest made it sound like the journey might take years, but I don’t see how it could.”

“If we could journey directly and without incident from the great arch to Varlo, it would take us four months, maybe five,” said Arconn. “However, we cannot ride directly to Varlo, and as you know from our encounter with the bandits and the troll, we cannot go far without meeting some kind of trouble.”

“Then why would it take years to travel from Techen to Varlo and back again?”

“As I said, we cannot go untroubled,” answered Arconn. “Though trouble might not be the best choice of words.”

“Is there a better word?” Alex asked, closing the magic book.

“Burdened might be better. After all, I would not call our visit to the White Tower trouble, but it was a burden.”

“How can you say that?” Alex questioned. He didn’t consider their visit to Iownan a burden.

“The Oracle gives knowledge, and with knowledge comes responsibility,” said Arconn. “Knowledge and responsibility are always a burden, even if we accept them willingly.”

“I understand,” replied Alex. “And will there be other places, like the tower, where we must stop before we reach Varlo?”

“Indeed there will be, though to say we muststop is not entirely accurate. Perhaps it is better to say that we chooseto stop. There are many places ahead of us where we may choose to stop—not least of which is the dark forest. Many of my kinsmen still live in this land after all and the dark forest is their home.”

“Your kinsmen?” Alex asked, surprised and delighted.

“Of course,” replied Arconn with a smile. “And we shall meet some of Thrang and Halfdan’s kinsmen as well when we reach the Brown Hills. Though dwarfs are not always as friendly with other dwarfs as elves are with other elves.”

“Dwarfs aren’t friendly with their own families?”

Arconn laughed happily. “Are you so friendly with your own family?”

“I have no real family,” Alex answered softly. “I only have a stepfather and a stepbrother.”

“Are not all men of the same family?” Arconn questioned thoughtfully. “Men live but a short time in most lands. They soon forget their own past.”

“Is it different with elves and dwarfs?”

“It is very different, especially for elves,” replied Arconn. “Dwarfs live many hundreds of years. Elves do not grow old at all, as I have told you.”

“So you remember your own past better,” Alex said.

“Yes, we do. Perhaps it is because we live so long that we remember so much more.”

“Will you live forever?”

“Perhaps,” Arconn replied thoughtfully. “Though as I told you, elves can die as surely as any other living thing.”

“It seems sad, in a way, that you go on living for so long,” said Alex.

“To many of us it is. And many of my race have left the known lands to find peace.”

“I remember you mentioned fading,” said Alex, thinking back to when he and Arconn had talked about this before. “Is fading like asking to die?”

“Nothing like that,” answered Arconn, his smile flickering slightly. “Those who choose to fade . . . well, it is hard to explain. I would say they seem to sleep and slowly vanish from the land. They are waiting for the lands to be renewed, and then they will wake once more.”

“And the dwarfs, can you tell me about them?” Alex asked.

“Ah, well,” Arconn began. “Perhaps Thrang or Halfdan should tell you about their own people, as I see things as an elf and not as a dwarf.”

“Please,” Alex persisted.

“Very well, I will tell you as I see it,” Arconn consented. “As I said, dwarfs do not live forever and to an elf their lives seem short.”

“But much longer than a man’s.”

“Much longer than mostmen,” Arconn corrected. “The dwarfs were once one people, living in one land. As time passed, they have spread to most of the known lands, and perhaps to a few lands that are not known to any but themselves.”

“So they have forgotten that they are one people?”

“Not at all,” Arconn replied, pausing for a moment to think. “Dwarfs know that they are one people, unlike men. However, they do not give their trust easily to strangers, even of their own kind. They are true in their friendships, but it is a hard-won friendship.”

“Will the dwarfs in the Brown Hills be unfriendly to us?”

“Perhaps. Though I think they will be kind enough. I don’t think they will hinder our journey.”

“How closely are Thrang and Halfdan related to the dwarfs here in Vargland?” Alex questioned.

“Closer than they might think. Though it has been a long time since any of Thrang’s people have come to Vargland.”

Alex and Arconn sat in silence for a time, watching the campfire burn down. It seemed incredible to Alex that elves could live forever, provided they weren’t killed. He wondered what it would be like to live so long, but it was hard to imagine.

“Your watch has passed,” said Arconn as the last flames of the fire fell into glowing embers.

“One more question, please,” said Alex, getting up.

“What more could you ask?”

“You said that dwarfs live longer than most men,” said Alex. “Are there men who live longer than dwarfs?”

“A few.”

“Can you tell me about them?” Alex pried.

“There are some men and women scattered through the known lands who live much longer than others. It is said some of them are like the elves. I have met a few of them myself, but I do not think they are like elves,” answered Arconn, his smile fading to a frown.

“Do you know why they live so long?” Alex asked.

“You said one more question, and now you have asked three,” said Arconn, his smile returning.

“But this is so interesting,” Alex argued. “I know so little, and things I thought I knew now seem to be wrong.”

“Very well,” Arconn replied. “I will tell you this one last thing for tonight, then you must sleep.”

“I promise.”

“The men who live so long are not like other men,” said Arconn. “Most of them are wizards of great power. A few are oracles like your friend Iownan. Others . . . others are neither wizard nor oracle, but live on just the same. Some of these men and women are good, some are evil, and some simply are.”

“Do all wizards live so long?” Alex asked, forgetting his promise.

“No, not all,” answered Arconn, his troubled look returning. “Only the most powerful, or the most evil. Now you must rest. We will talk of this again tomorrow if you wish.”

Alex left his friend sitting beside the glowing embers of the fire and made his way to his tent, his mind buzzing with additional questions. Alex’s feelings about magic were no longer as confused as they had been. And a part of him was actually beginning to like the idea of magic, even if he didn’t really understand it yet.

* * *

The next morning dawned clear and bright, and the company made good time across the open grasslands. By mid-

afternoon, they could see the outline of the Brown Hills on the far horizon, and seeing the hills seemed to please both Thrang and Halfdan.

“A few more days and we should reach the dwarf realm,” said Thrang while they ate dinner that night.

“I hope the stories of its greatness are true,” Halfdan added, a strange light in his eyes.

“And what are these stories?” Bregnest questioned.

“It is said that the halls of the Brown Hills are a wonder among dwarfs,” Halfdan replied reverently. “There are great halls carved from the living rock, and vast cities hidden from view. It is rumored that some of the old dwarf magic remains here in Vargland and that true silver is still found here in abundance.”

“Halfdan!” Thrang said loudly, an angry look on his face. “You should learn to hold your tongue.”

“Keeping secrets from the company?” asked Skeld, smiling slyly at Thrang.