"Clayton Emery - Lost Empires 03 - Star of Cursrah" - читать интересную книгу автора (Emery Clayton)

princess jerked free one hand and latched onto the grillwork. She lost a hank of cornrows as her
captors jolted to a halt.
The female killer kicked Star's hand to knock it loose, then flashed the knife before her face and
said, "Let go or lose your hand."
Though fascinated by the curved blade, Star glimpsed a tattoo encircling the woman's wrist like a
bracelet. A row of crooked crocodile teeth revealed these were hatori, assassins of a guild that
emulated the fearsome sand crocodiles of the desert. Like those camouflaged and armored reptiles,
hatori thugs swam below the surface of society, popped up, bit hard, then disappeared. The hatori were
an undying infestation the palace chancellor had vowed to stamp out.
The male assassin gabbled at his partner in thieves' cant, but the samira interrupted, "You gutter
trash! You wouldn't dare kill me. If you're smart, you'll ruтАФurk!"
A garrote of braided camel hair looped around Star's throat. She gagged, gasped, and almost
vomited. The cutthroat's coarse clothes rubbed her shoulder through her thin shift, then the garrote
twisted as he lifted her off her feet. He hoisted Star on his back like a lamb, not caring if she strangled.
The world dimmed for lack of air.
 Footsteps pounded from all directions, but Star feared they'd be too late to prevent her strangling.
Vaguely, through a red haze, she saw the female assassin snap a latch at the bottom of the sunken
stairwell. She hissed for her partner to bring his burden, and Star was dragged halfway down the stairs.
Amenstar shuddered and clawed wildly. Once these killers bolted that solid door, they might confound
their pursuers long enough to escapeтАФwith Star either a prisoner or a corpse.
"Release her!" Amenstar heard Tafir shout, then saw the cutthroat lift her katar to fend off an
attack.
Star wanted to shout a warning, but her wind was cut off. In agony, she saw Tafir leap clear over
her head and down into the stairwell, obviously aiming to kick the female hatori's head off.
The woman dipped like a cobra and sliced with her curved dagger, and the knife sizzled across the
hobnailed sole of Tafir's sandal. Scrambling, hands braced against the wall, the cadet poised on a step
and kicked wildly to avoid the blade. Obviously, Tafir only needed to harry the enemy and block the
door until help arrived. Through a fog Star saw panting soldiers cram the stairwell. Rescue was close,
if only her throat wasn't crushed.
The stairwell grew darker, the light eclipsed, and Amenstar feared her vision was fading, that she
was dying. Then she smelled smoke. Out of the doorway boiled black smoke tinged with green curls,
as if the building were afire. From under the smokescreen charged more assassins like bees from a
smoked hive.
Star couldn't track what happened next. Her captor, still with his death-grip garrote around her
throat, booted her down the stairs against the oncoming assassins. The dark depths had to be a thieves'
den. Star tried to grab someone rushing nearby, but the awful pressure on her throat made her sick, and
she crumpled. Smoke stung her eyes, scorched her gaping mouth, and made her nose itch abominably.
The cutthroat shoved her downward. A thief banged her hip dashing one way, then thumped her
again in retreating. Star wondered how her rescuers fared. Assassins, wrapped in gauze or light cloaks,
flashed knives or hurled what looked like big copper coinsтАФuntil Star saw a soldier's arm gashed to
the bone. The coins were razor-edged quoits. The palace chancellor, who studied the methods of
assassins, would find that fact interestingтАФif Star lived to tell it.
Darkness engulfed her. Dragged inside the doorway, Star had an impression of a narrow, low
corridor, probably lined with murder holes. Tafir was down on his back, and her captor tripped over
him. Was her friend dead? Would she to follow?
The black smoke suddenly parted like a sandstorm, and through the rent charged a big sergeant
with a strawberry birthmarkтАФTafir's friend, Star thought. Rosey streamed blood from a dozen cuts on
arms and hands and face.
Outraged, he roared, "Save her highness!"
The veteran threw a knotted fist, too fast to see, that whistled by Star's head. The man-killing blow