"Simon R. Green - Hawk and Fisher 2 - Winner Takes" - читать интересную книгу автора (Green Simon R)

They made their way unhurriedly down Market Street, enjoying the early morning
warmth, and keeping an eye on the street traders. The election crowds meant good
pickings for the fast-food sellers, souvenir stalls, and back-alley conjurers with
their cheap charms and amulets. Stalls lined the streets from one end to the other
without a gap, varying from tatty affairs of wood and canvas to established family
concerns with padded silk and beaded awnings. The clamor of the merchants was
deafening, and the more tawdry the goods, the louder and more extravagant were
the claims made on their behalf.

There were drink stands everywhere, competing with the taverns by offering
cheap spirits with the traditional sign:

DRUNK FOR A PENNY; DEAD DRUNK FOR TUPPENCE. There was beer as
well, for the less adventurously minded. That came free, courtesy of the
Conservatives. On the whole, they preferred the electorate to be well the worse
for drink on polling day. That way, they were either grateful enough to vote
Conservative in the hope of more free booze, or too drunk to raise any real
opposition. And since the populace was also usually too drunk to riot, the Guards
liked it that way too.


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Everywhere Hawk and Fisher looked there were more traders' stalls, crowding the
streets and spilling into the alleyways. There were flags and fireworks and masks
and all kinds of novelties for sale, every one of them guaranteed to be worth a
damn sight less than what you paid for it. If you wanted more upmarket
souvenirs, like delicate china and glassware tastefully engraved with designs and
slogans from the election, then you had to go uptown to find them. The Northside
might have been upmarket once, but if so, it was so long ago that no one could
remember when. These days the Northside was the harshest, poorest, and most
dangerous area in Haven. Which was why Hawk and Fisher got the job of
patrolling it. Partly because they were the best, and everyone knew it, but mainly
because they'd made just as many enemies inside the Guard as out. It was possible
to be too honest, in Haven.

Hawk looked wistfully at a stall offering spiced sausage meat on wooden skewers.
It looked quite appetizing, if you ignored the flies. Fisher noticed his interest, and
pulled him firmly away.

"No, Hawk; we don't know what kind of meat went into those sausages. You can't
afford to spend the rest of the day squatting in the jakes with your trousers round
your ankles."

Hawk laughed. "You're probably right, Isobel. It doesn't matter; if I remember
correctly, there's a tavern down here on the right that does an excellent lobster
dinner for two."