"Asprin, Robert - Thieves' World 12 - Stealer's Sky" - читать интересную книгу автора (Asprin Robert)

401

pneumatically overweight young assistant/receptionist/fetch-and-carrier
smiled at her and showed her along the corridor past that burly man who
looked like a swordslinger, a wealthy mage's bodyguard, and was. Like
the beyond-plump Avenestra, he wore garments of the color that had
already come to be known as Strick blue.

"What'm I supposed to do with that?" the one called Skarth was
meanwhile asking Strick. He gestured after Taya, Abruptly losing his
limp, he paced with uncommon grace to lean on the back of the chair she
had just vacated,

Across his blue-draped desk, the man all in blue told him.

"Uh." A withered old brown hand gestured. "No problem with that.
Iffen any of these young jaybirds try to cock their combs at that fair
young lass I'll whock 'em with my stick, I will!"

Strick winced. "Next time you consider a disguise that elaborate you
might try to gain a lesson or a little advice from Feltheryn."

"WhЧoh, that actor? Not a bad idea, though. What did you find out
about Tarkle?"

Strick sighed and looked morose. "Nothing, yet."

In an astonishingly young and vibrant voice for such an oldster, the
man called Skarth said succinctly, "Shit."

"Wait." With a smallish smile twitching at his mouth, Strick dropped a
small brown and yellow tiger-eye into the brown old hand.

"Glass," Skarth said in instant appraisal, and Strick laughed.

"True. But it's also today's message token. Hand it to Abohorr and ask
him what you want to know. By tonight either he or Ahdio will know
where Tarkle stays."

On the way out of Strick's, Skarth offered the ridiculously disguised
girl his hand. She shrank away. She hustled along beside him, while he
walked bent, rolling along like a sailor, clonking the hard-packed earth of
the streets and "streets" with his staff.

She had one sentence of him as they made their way through a nice
calm windless Sanctuary; Taya asked how it was that he was obviously of
considerable age and yet his mustache was so black.

"Dye," Skarth said, from the throat. "The only way a S'danzo could
have red hair."