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

One-Thumb shook his head. "It was the father that did this."

Sorcerers are not omnipotent. They can be bargained with. They can even be killed, with
stealth and surprise. And spells cannot normally be maintained without effort; a good
sorcerer might hold six or a dozen at once. It was Mizraith's fame that he maintained past a
hundred, although it was well known that he did this by casting secondary spells on lesser
sorcerers, tapping their power unbeknownst. Still, gathering all these strings and holding
them, as well as the direct spells that protected his life and fortune, used most of his
concentration, giving him a distracted air. The unwary might interpret this as senilityтАФa
half-century without sleep had left its markтАФand might try to take his purse or life, as their
last act.
But Mizraith was rarely seen on the streets, and certainly never near the noise and smell
of the Maze. He normally kept to his opulent apartments in the easternmost part of town,
flanked by the inns of Wideway, overlooking the sea.
One-Thumb warned the pirate cook that he might have to take a double shift, and took a
bottle of finest brandy to give to Mizraith, and a skin of the ordinary kind to keep up their
courage as they went to face the man who guarded his life. The emptied skin joined the
harbor's flotsam before they'd gone half of Wide-way, and they continued in grim silence.
 Mizraith's eldest son let them in, not seeming surprised at their visit. "The bodyguards
stay here," he said, and made a pass with one hand. "You'll want to leave all your iron here,
as well."
One-Thumb felt the dagger next to his ankle grow warm; he tossed it away and also
dropped his rapier and the dagger sheathed to his forearm. There was a similar scattering of
weapons from the other three. Amoli turned to the wall and reached inside her skirts, inside
herself, to retrieve the ultimate birth-control device, a sort of diaphragm with a spring-
loaded razor attached (no one would have her without paying in some coin). The hardware
glowed dull red briefly, then cooled.
"Is Marype at home?" One-Thumb asked.
"He was, briefly," the older brother said. "You came to see Father, though." He turned to
lead them up a winding flight of stairs.
Velvet and silk embroidered in arcane patterns. A golden samovar bubbling softly in the
corner: flower-scented tea. A naked girl, barely of childbearing age, sitting cross-legged by
the samovar, staring. A bodyguard much larger than the ones downstairs, but slightly
transparent. In the middle of this sat Mizraith, on a pile of pillows, or maybe of gold, bright
eyes in dark hollows, smiling openmouthed at something unseeable.
The brother left them there. Magician, guardian, and girl all ignored them. "Mizraith?"
One-Thumb said.
The sorcerer slowly brought his eyes to bear on him and Amoli. "I've been waiting for
you, Lastel, or what is your name in the Maze, One-Thumb.... I could grow that back for
you, you know."
"I get along well enoughтАФ"
"And you brought me presents! A bottle and a baubleтАФmore my age than this
sweetmeat." He made a grotesque face at the naked girl and winked.
"No, Mizraith, this woman and I, we both believe we've been wronged by you. Cheated
and stolen from," he said boldly, but his voice shook. "The bottle is a gift."
The bodyguard moved toward them, its steps making no noise. "Hold, spirit." It stopped,
glaring. "Bring that bottle here."
As One-Thumb and Amoli walked toward Mizraith, a low table materialized in front of
him, then three glasses. "You may serve, Lastel." Nothing had moved but his head.
One-Thumb poured each glass full; one of them rose a hand-span above the table and