"Feist, Raymond E - The Riftwar Legacy 02 - Krondor- The Assassins" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)away.
This time, it had been different. A new gang showed up on the docks, a large number of Keshian thugs among them. That alone wasn t worth notice; Krondor was a major port of trade with Kesh. What made this group unusual was their indifference to the threat posed by the Mockers. They acted in a provocative fashion, openly moving cargo into and out of the city, bribing officials and daring the Mockers to interfere with them. They seemed to be inviting a confrontation. At last the Mockers had acted, and it had been a disaster. Eleven of the most feared bashers the enforcers among the Guild of Thieves had been lured into a warehouse at the end of a semi-deserted dock. They had been trapped inside and the building set afire, killing all eleven. From that moment on, warfare had erupted deep in Krondor s underworld. 18 The Mockers had been driven to ground, and the invaders, working for someone known only as the Crawler, had also suffered, as the Prince of Krondor had acted to restore order to his city. Rumor had it some men dressed as Nighthawks members of the Guild of Assassins had been seen weeks before in the sewer, bait to bring the Prince s army in after them, with the final destruction of the Mockers guard entered the sewers in sufficient numbers, everyone found down below the streets assassins, false Nighthawks, or Mockers all would be routed out or captured. It was a clever plan, but it had come to naught. Squire James, once Jimmy the Hand of the Mockers, had foiled that ruse, before vanishing into the night on a mission for the Prince. Then the Prince had mustered his army and moved out and again the Crawler had struck. Since then, the two sides had stayed holed up, the Mockers at Mother s, their well-disguised headquarters, and the Crawler s men at an unknown hideout in the north docks area. Those sent to pinpoint the exact location of the Crawler s headquarters failed to return. The sewers had become a no-man s land, with few daring to come and go unless driven by the greatest need. Limm would now be lying low, safe at Mother s, save for two things: a terrible rumor, and a message from an old friend. Either the rumor or the message alone would have made Limm huddle in a corner at the Mockers hideout, but the combination of the two had forced him to act. Mockers had few friends; the loyalty between thieves was rarely engendered by affection or comity, but from a greater |
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