Read Online Trek to Kraggen-Cor by 1932- Dennis L. McKiernan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: 1932- Dennis L. McKiernan
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coin, the only one that Ned had ever seen, copper being his usual fare, with an occasional silver. But this coin was gold! Ned vowed to keep it all his life, on display, pledging never to spend it, claiming it as his Dwarf hoard, declaring that it would become an heirloom of the Proudhand clan.
Anval turned the rig over to Cotton, who drove it down to the common stables at the Pony Field on the southeastern edge of Hollow End. There he removed the harness and watered the two horses, whom he dubbed Brownie and Downy—one being all brown and the other a chestnut with an especially soft, fluffy, white mane. He rubbed them down and filled the feed bins in their stalls with an extra helping of oats. And after talking to them for a bit while combing their manes and tails, the buccan returned to The Root.
It was dusk when Cotton came up the walk toward the burrow. The autumn eve was mild, and from the open window of the study he could hear Perry's voice: "... paces up the gentle rise from the First Neath to the East Hall at Gate Level; then it's two hundred forty level paces across the hall and out the Daun Gate to freedom ..."
Why, that's the Brega Path what Mister Perry's reciting, Cotton thought. Why in the world . . . Before his mind could carry on, he heard Borin grunt and Anval reply, but what was said he could not tell. Hoy, hold on now! Why, them cheeky Dwarves are testing Mister Perry . . . as if they don't believe that us Warrows have good memories! Cotton stormed toward the front entrance.
As the ired buccan stalked into the study, Borin looked up from the original Scroll; and Anval and Lord Kian glanced up from two of Perry's linen-paper copies. Empty-handed, Perry stood in room center.
"Well?" asked Perry.
"Exact," grunted Borin, a growing look of approval in his eye.
"Your duplicate, too, is letter-perfect, Waeran," rumbled Anval, turning to Lord Kian, who also nodded.
Borin stood, his black eyes aglitter in the candlelight. "Master Perry, we have seen for ourselves the exactness of your copies of the Brega Scroll; hence, because that work has proved to be unerring, we no longer doubt the accuracy of your duplicate of the Raven Book. You are indeed a crafter of true worth."
Borin and then Anval bowed deeply to Perry, and the buccan smiled and bowed in return. Cotton, mollified by the Dwarves' respectful behavior, completely forgot the angry words he had come to heap upon them.
"Well then," said Perry, moving to the desk, "I'd better pack some of these copies to take to King Durek." He stood undecided a moment, then mumbled to himself, "I suppose I'll just take them all. . . ." As an afterthought, he opened a desk drawer and added a small chart to the stack. "... as well as this sketch of mine."
That evening, once more they feasted on Holly's fine cooking. This time the meal consisted of an overlarge kettle of well-spiced green beans slow-cooked for hours with a huge ham bone and gobbets of meat and large, peeled potatoes and parsnips. There was also freshly baked bread with honey, light golden beer, and cherry cobbler for dessert. Again Anval out-ate a straining Cotton. And the conversation touched upon hunting and gold, deer and gardens, delving and writing, weaponry and seeds, Wizards and Dragons, and many other things. This night Borin also joined in the talk 'round the table and proved to hold many tales of interest.
But all through the evening both Perry and Cotton would at times lapse into silence and gaze about them at their beloved Root, wondering when they would see it again.
The next morning ere dawn. Holly awakened them all, and they sat down to an enormous breakfast of scrambled eggs, hotcakes, honey, toast, and marmalade. "It is well we are leaving today," growled Anval. "Another week of this fare and I could not get into my armor."
At sunrise Lord Kian strode to the Pony Field stable and hitched up the team and drove the waggon down to the Market Square, where gaping War-row merchants
Anval turned the rig over to Cotton, who drove it down to the common stables at the Pony Field on the southeastern edge of Hollow End. There he removed the harness and watered the two horses, whom he dubbed Brownie and Downy—one being all brown and the other a chestnut with an especially soft, fluffy, white mane. He rubbed them down and filled the feed bins in their stalls with an extra helping of oats. And after talking to them for a bit while combing their manes and tails, the buccan returned to The Root.
It was dusk when Cotton came up the walk toward the burrow. The autumn eve was mild, and from the open window of the study he could hear Perry's voice: "... paces up the gentle rise from the First Neath to the East Hall at Gate Level; then it's two hundred forty level paces across the hall and out the Daun Gate to freedom ..."
Why, that's the Brega Path what Mister Perry's reciting, Cotton thought. Why in the world . . . Before his mind could carry on, he heard Borin grunt and Anval reply, but what was said he could not tell. Hoy, hold on now! Why, them cheeky Dwarves are testing Mister Perry . . . as if they don't believe that us Warrows have good memories! Cotton stormed toward the front entrance.
As the ired buccan stalked into the study, Borin looked up from the original Scroll; and Anval and Lord Kian glanced up from two of Perry's linen-paper copies. Empty-handed, Perry stood in room center.
"Well?" asked Perry.
"Exact," grunted Borin, a growing look of approval in his eye.
"Your duplicate, too, is letter-perfect, Waeran," rumbled Anval, turning to Lord Kian, who also nodded.
Borin stood, his black eyes aglitter in the candlelight. "Master Perry, we have seen for ourselves the exactness of your copies of the Brega Scroll; hence, because that work has proved to be unerring, we no longer doubt the accuracy of your duplicate of the Raven Book. You are indeed a crafter of true worth."
Borin and then Anval bowed deeply to Perry, and the buccan smiled and bowed in return. Cotton, mollified by the Dwarves' respectful behavior, completely forgot the angry words he had come to heap upon them.
"Well then," said Perry, moving to the desk, "I'd better pack some of these copies to take to King Durek." He stood undecided a moment, then mumbled to himself, "I suppose I'll just take them all. . . ." As an afterthought, he opened a desk drawer and added a small chart to the stack. "... as well as this sketch of mine."
That evening, once more they feasted on Holly's fine cooking. This time the meal consisted of an overlarge kettle of well-spiced green beans slow-cooked for hours with a huge ham bone and gobbets of meat and large, peeled potatoes and parsnips. There was also freshly baked bread with honey, light golden beer, and cherry cobbler for dessert. Again Anval out-ate a straining Cotton. And the conversation touched upon hunting and gold, deer and gardens, delving and writing, weaponry and seeds, Wizards and Dragons, and many other things. This night Borin also joined in the talk 'round the table and proved to hold many tales of interest.
But all through the evening both Perry and Cotton would at times lapse into silence and gaze about them at their beloved Root, wondering when they would see it again.
The next morning ere dawn. Holly awakened them all, and they sat down to an enormous breakfast of scrambled eggs, hotcakes, honey, toast, and marmalade. "It is well we are leaving today," growled Anval. "Another week of this fare and I could not get into my armor."
At sunrise Lord Kian strode to the Pony Field stable and hitched up the team and drove the waggon down to the Market Square, where gaping War-row merchants
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