"06 - Wings of Omen (a)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Asprin Robert)

A Breath of Power Diana L. Paxson
The Hand That Feeds You Diane Duane
Witching Hour C. J. Cherryh
Rebels Aren't Born in Palaces Andrew J. Offutt
Gyskouras Lynn Abbey
A Fish With Feathers Is Out of His Depth Robert Lynn Asprin

A Special Note From the Editors



INTRODUCTION

by Robert Lynn Asprin

The birds of Sanctuary are black. From the hawklike predators to the small
seedeaters the native birds are black as the heart of a thief.

Hakiem, once the town's leading storyteller, had never paused to reflect on the
coloration of the birds before. At moments like this, however, when the business
of the Bey-sa's court was between members of the Beysib clans and conducted in
their own incomprehensible tongue, there was little for the Empress's native
adviser to do but fidget and reflect. Habits evolved during long years drinking
at the Vulgar Unicorn had positioned him with his back to a wall and a clear
path to the doors-coincidentally he had gotten himself an equally clear view out
a window into the courtyard below. The movement of the birds caught his eye; he
found himself watching their antics closely.

When the Beysib arrived in Sanctuary they brought, along with their gold and
their snakes, a substantial flock of non-migratory seabirds they called the bey
art-as they called their snakes beynit, their flowers beyosa and their goddess
Mother Bey. Every day they threw bread and tablescraps into the courtyard to
feed their winged allies. The birds of Sanctuary, who could not tell a palace
courtyard from the back door of a Maze slophouse, swarmed to this easy feast and
fought savagely among themselves-though the Beysib made sure there was enough
for all. Some black birds cawed or shrieked to drive off new arrivals, while
others took vengeful pursuit of any bird attempting to make off with a morsel
too large to be consumed on the spot.

Two of the white beyari-the birds for whom the food was intended-soared
majestically into the courtyard. In an instant all individual differences among
the black birds were forgotten; they rose in a single, dark cloud to drive off
the interlopers. No, not quite all, the storyteller observed. A few cleverer
birds remained behind, hurriedly bolting food while their comrades and rivals
were momentarily distracted.

The storyteller smiled to himself. From high to low everyone in Sanctuary
behaved the same-even the birds.

A flicker of white on the roof across from the window caught Hakiem's eye. One