"Feist, Raymond E - The Riftwar Legacy 02 - Krondor- The Assassins" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)

salty, iron tang of blood and sweat and he continued to wiggle his head
through the gap. Tears flowed freely, yet he held his silence as he
cruelly scraped both ears, one against stone and the other against
filthy iron. For an instant panic threatened to rise up and overwhelm
him as images of him hanging helpless in the grate while his pursuers
raced to seize him played vividly in his imagination.

Then his head was past the top bar. He easily snaked his arm through,
and he moved his shoulder. Hoping he wouldn t have to dislocate his
joints to get through, the young thief continued. He got his shoulders
through and, by exhaling, his chest followed. He held the lantern in his
trailing arm and realized it wouldn t fit through the gap.

Taking a deep breath, the boy let it fall as he twisted the rest of his
body through. He was now on the other side of the grate, clinging to it
like a ladder as the lantern clattered onto the stones.

"He s in there!" came a shout from close by and a light shone into the
tunnel.

Limm held himself poised for a moment, and looked up. The hole above him
was barely visible in the faint light hurrying toward him. He shoved
upward, slapping his palms against the tunnel walls, keeping his feet
firmly on the grate. He pressed hard with both hands on the sides of the
vertical shaft. He

15 needed solid hand-holds before he pushed off the grate. He felt
around and got his fingers into a deep seam between two stones on one
side and had just found another when he felt something touch his bare
foot.

Instantly he pushed off with his feet, and heard a voice cursing. "Damn
all sewer rats!" Another voice said, "We can t get through there!"

"But my blade can!" Summoning all his strength the young thief pulled
himself up into the shaft, and in a dangerous move, released his hold on
the top of the grate, dropped his hands to his side, and pushed upward.
He slapped his palms backwards and braced his back against the wall of
the chimney, and pulled his feet up, jamming them acrobatically against
the far wall. He heard the scrape of steel on iron as someone shoved a
sword through the grating. Limm knew that had he hesitated, he would
have been impaled on the point of that long blade.

A voice swore and said, "He vanished up that chimney!" Another voice
said, "He s got to come out somewhere on the level above!" For an
instant Limm could feel the shirt on his back move as the material
slipped against the wall and his bare feet skidded on the slimy stones.
He pressed harder with his feet and prayed he could hold his position.
After an instant of downward movement, he stopped.