"Esther M. Friesner - Chicks 02 - Did You Say Chicks" - читать интересную книгу автора (Friesner Esther M)

The first break in the case came from one of the girls who was in the pre-recruit class. She arrived full of
giggles, and Blanche had to speak quite sharply to her.

"Sorry, ma'am," she said, her shoulders still shaking. "It's the older ladiesтАФmy aunt Sapphire and her
bunch. You know they didn't like coming down here to your fitness classesтАФ"

"I know," Blanche said.

"Well, they've got a dancing master now, calls himself Gilfort the Great, who claims that the female body
is especially suited to fitness by dancing. They wear these little silk tunicsтАФsome of them even wear just
a bandeau on topтАФand carry long scarves and ribbons and things, and while the court string quartet
plays in the corner, they hop aboutтАФbut never enough to sweat."

"But surely they'reтАж erтАж losing condition?" Blanche asked.

"Terribly, at first," the girl said. "ThenтАФovernight, almostтАФthe dance began to work, and they were
gorgeous. If I didn't want to learn swordplay, I'd go there myself." She caught the look on Blanche's face
and stepped back. "Not really, of course, ma'am, butтАФit is kind of pretty. In its own way."

"But what were you laughing at, then?"

"WellтАж on my way here, I passed behind the potted palms, and the dancing master was telling them all
they had the bellies of belly dancers, and the legs of shepherdesses, and the arms of apple-pickers. And I
just couldn't help thinking, 'and the brains of boiled cabbages'тАж" Her voice trailed off, with the quick
mood change of adolescence. "I don't know why I thought it was so funny, really, justтАФmost of the time
they'd be horrified if anyone called them dancers or shepherdesses, and they were lapping it up, giving
him these soppy grins."

"Apple pickers," Blanche said. "I never thought of apple pickers."



"If they're wearing those two piece outfits, we can certainly recognize our bellies," Dorcas said. Eulalia
nodded. "But we don't want them to see us."

"That's what potted palms are for," Mirabel said. "Those giggling girls are always hiding behind the
potted palms; you can wrap up to look like chaperones."
She herself looked like nothing but what she was, one of the Royal Guard. She took up her stance at the
door of the third-best ballroom, sent Dorcas and Eulalia behind the potted palms, and waited.

The queen glared at her when the ladies arrived. "Where's Justin? He's our regular guard!"

"Justin's sick this morning, your majesty," Mirabel said. Justin knew when it was healthier to be sick; he'd
said he was tired of watching them fancy ladies misbehave in front of a foreigner anyway.

"WellтАж I certainly hope he gets well soon."