"Linda Evans - Time Scout 2 - Wages of Sin" - читать интересную книгу автора (Evans Linda)

at a man who's tumbled her frequently. Lupus hid his own smile as they left
for more private surroundings, then heard the beginnings of an argument
through their closed door. It ended with the thief storming back into the main
room, thunderclouds in his eyes, whereupon he struck up a lively discussion
with the nearest girl.
All does not go well, then, between master and concubine. He chuckled,
finished his meal, and left the inn to wait for darkness. All he needed to do
was wait until the guests bedded down for the night and the thief was his.
He could have called for the city watch to arrest the man, but his
reputation was already damaged. So far, only his closest friends knew of his
foolish loss. Let the city watch discover it, and his name would become a
laughingstock from the janiculum to the Campus Martius. This was a score he
intended to settle personally. To his great chagrin, however, a banquet or
great party of some kind was being celebrated inside, with loud laughter and
singing in some barbaric tongue he couldn't place. It went on until the night
grew very late.
"Will these colonial clods never bed down and sleep?"
Carts and heavily laden wagons rumbled past in the darkness, casting
lantern light on weary-faced drivers and dark, rutted paving stones. Another
hour passed, then another, and still the party roared on. Hugging his
impatience to his breast like a well-honed dagger, Lupus waited.
What happened next surprised him beyond all belief.
Every single one of the revelers left the inn in a packed group, led by
lantern light and collared slaves through the wagon-jammed, dangerous streets.
The man Lupus sought was there amongst them, grinning like a trained monkey.
Lupus followed, one hand on the pommel of his sword. He trailed the group to a
wine shop on the Via Appia. Judging from the positions of the stars, it must
be nearly midnight, yet nearly forty people entered the dark, silent wineshop.
Some were giggling, some reeling, while some looked like they might be ill at
any moment.
Lupus' prey entered without so much as a backward glance over his shoulder.
An open door at the rear of the shop spilled lantern light into the now-empty
shop front with its counters, stone benches, and tight-lidded amphorae of
wine. Beyond was clearly a small warehouse where the shopkeeper stored his
stock. Lupus slipped across the street and cautiously entered the public area
just as someone closed the warehouse door. Darkness smothered him in an
instant. He swore under his breath and waited for his night vision to return.
He listened at the edge of the door, but could hear nothing.
Then a strange buzzing began to vibrate the bones of his skull. There was
no real sound, but he clapped hands over both ears, trying to shut out the
unpleasant sensation. What manner of wine shop is this. Sweat started out on
his brow. He wasn't afraid, exactly-
The warehouse door opened again, unexpectedly
Lupus hurled himself into the shadows behind the counter.
Some fifty people emerged from the warehouse room--but none of them were
the ones who'd gone inside moments before. The last person through closed the
door to the warehouse, leaving Lupus hidden in shadows while lanterns swung in
the night and giggles and whispers in that same foreign tongue reached his
ears. Lupus stared at the departing group, while the bones of his skull ached.
Gradually the sound that wasn't a sound faded away. The men and women who'd