"Joe Haldeman - Blood Brothers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Haldeman Joe)

BLOOD BROTHERS
Smiling, bowing as the guests leave. A good luncheon, much reassuring talk from the
gentry assembled: the economy of Sanctuary is basically sound. Thank you, my new cook ...
he's from Twand, isn't he a marvel? The host appears to be rather more in need of a new
diet than a new cook, though the heavy brocades he affects may make him look stouter than
he actually is. Good leave . . . certainly, tomorrow. Tell your aunt I'm thinking of her.
You will stay, of course, Amar. One departing guest raises an eyebrow slightly, our host
a boylover? We do have business.
Enoir, you may release the servants until dawn. Give yourself a free evening as well. We
will be dining in the city.
And thank you for the excellent service. Here.
He laughs. Don't thank me. Just don't spend it all on one woman. As the servantmaster
leaves, our host's bluff expression fades to one of absolute neutrality. He listens to the
servant master's progress down the stone steps, overhears him dismissing the servants.
Turns and gestures to the pile of cushions by the huge fireplace. The smell of winter's ashes
masked by incense fumes.
I have a good wine, Amar. Be seated while I fetch it.
Were you comfortable with our guests?
Merchants, indeed. But one does learn from other classes, don't you agree?
He returns with two goblets of wine so purple it is almost black. He sets both goblets in
front of Amar: choose. Even closest friends follow this ritual in Sanctuary, where poisoning
is art, sport, profession. Yes, it was the color that intrigued me. Good fortune.
No, it's from a grove in the mountains, east of Syr. Kalos or something; I could never get
my tongue around their barbaric . . . yes. A good dessert wine. Would you care for a pipe?
Enoir returns, jingling his bell as he walks up the steps.
That will be all for today, thank you... .
No, I don't want the hounds fed. Better sport Iisday if they're famished. We can live with
their whimpering.
The heavy front door creaks shut behind the servantmaster. You don't? You would not be
the only noble in attendance. Let your beard grow a day or two, borrow some rag from a
servant... .
Well, there are two schools of thinking. Hungry dogs are weaker but fight with
desperation. And if your dogs aren't fed for a week, there's a week they can't be poisoned by
the other teams.
Oh, it does happenтАФI think it happened to me once. Not a killing poison, just one that
makes them listless, uncompetitive. Perhaps a spell. Poison's cheaper.
He drinks deeply, then sets the goblet carefully on the floor. He crosses the room and
mounts a step and peers through a slot window cut in the deep wall.
 I'm sure we're alone now. Drink up; I'll fetch the krrf. He is gone for less than a minute
and returns with a heavy brick wrapped in soft leather.
Caronne's finest, pure black, unadulterated. He unfolds the package: ebony block
embossed all over its surface with a foreign seal. Try some?
He nods. "A wise vintner who avoids his wares." You have the gold?
He weighs the bag in his hand. This is not enough. Not by half.
He listens and hands back the gold. Be reasonable. If you feel you can't trust my assay,
take a small amount back to Ranke; have anyone test it. Then bring me the price we
established.
The other man suddenly stands and claws at his falchion, but it barely clears its sheath,
then clatters on the marble floor. He falls to his hands and knees, trembling, stutters a few
words, and collapses.