"02 - Tales From the Vulgar Unicorn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Asprin Robert)

hence unseen into the streets. Though many of the lurkers in the shadows would
let her pass unmolested, since they had known her when she was a child, others
would not be so kind. They would rob her for the tools of her trade and the
clothes she wore and some would rape her. Or try to.

Through the darkness she went swiftly, her steps sure because of long
experience. The adobe buildings of the city were a dim whitish bulk ahead. Then
the path took a turn, and she saw some small flickers of light here and there.
Torches. A little further, and a light became a square. The window of a tavern.

She entered a narrow winding street and strode down its centre. Turning a
corner, she saw a torch in a bracket on the wall of a house and two men standing
near it. Immediately she crossed to the far side and, hugging the walls, passed
the two. Their pipes glowed redly; she caught a whiff of the pungent and sickly
smoke of kleelel, the drug used by the poor when they didn't have money for the
more expensive krrf. Which was most of the time.

After two or three pipefuls, the smokers would be vomiting. But they would claim
that the euphoria would make the upchucking worth it.

There were other odours: garbage piled by the walls, slop-jars of excrement, and
puke from kleetel smokers and drunks. The garbage would be shovelled into goat
drawn carts by Downwinders whose families had long held this right. The slop
jars would be emptied by a Downwinder family that had delivered the contents to
farmers for a century and would and had fought fiercely to keep this right. The
farmers would use the excrement to feed their soil; the urine would be emptied
into the mouth of the White Foal River and carried out to sea.

She also heard the rustling and squealing of rats as they searched for edible
portions and dogs growling or snarling as they chased the rats or fought each
other. And she glimpsed the swift shadows of running cats.

Like a cat, she sped down the street in a half-run, stopping at corners to look
around them before venturing farther. When she was about a half-mile from her
place, she heard the pounding of feet ahead. She froze and tried to make herself
look like part of the wall.


2

At that moment the moon broke through the clouds.

It was almost a full moon. The light revealed her to any but a blind person. She
darted across the street to the dark side and played wall again.

The slap of feet on the hard-packed dirt of the street came closer. Somewhere
above her, a baby began crying.

She pulled a long knife from a scabbard under her cloak and held the blade
behind her. Doubtless, the one running was a thief or else someone trying to