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

with the other bodyguard and your son. Is this enough?" There was a dark patch in the
center of the square.
He took it between thumb and forefinger and grimaced. "Markmor!" The second most
powerful magician in SanctuaryтАФan upstart not even a century old.
"He's in league with your strongest competitor?" One-Thumb said.
"In league or in thrall." Mizraith stood up and crossed his arms. The bodyguard
disappeared; the cushions became a stack of gold bricks. He mumbled some gibberish and
opened his arms wide.
Marype appeared in front of him. He was a handsome lad: flowing silver hair, striking
features. He was also furious, naked, and rampant.
"Father! I am busy!" He made a flinging gesture and disappeared.
Mizraith made the same gesture and the boy came back. "We can do this all night. Or you
can talk to me."
Noticeably less rampant. "This is unforgivable." He raised his arm to make the pass
again; then checked it as Mizraith did the same. "Clothe me." A brick disappeared, and
Marype was wearing a tunic of woven gold.
"Tell me you are not in the thrall of Markmor."
The boy's fists were clenched. "I am not."
"Are you quite certain?"
"We are friends, partners. He is teaching me things."
"You know I will teach you everything, eventually. ButтАФ"
Marype made a pass and the stack of gold turned to a heap of stinking dung. "Cheap,"
Mizraith said, wrinkling his nose. He held his elbow a certain way and the gold came back.
"Don't you see he wants to take advantage of you?"
"I can see that he wants access to you. He was quite open about that."
"Stefab," Mizraith whispered. "Nesteph."
"You need the help of my brothers?"
The two older brothers appeared, flanking Mizraith. "What I need is some sense out of
you." To the others: "Stay him!"
Heavy golden chains bound his wrists and ankles to sudden rings in the floor. He strained
and one broke; a block of blue ice encased him. The ice began to melt.
Mizraith turned to One-Thumb and Amoli. "You weaken us with your presence." A bar
of gold floated over to the woman. "That will compensate you. Lastel, you will have the
krrf, once I take care of this. Be careful for the next few hours. Go."
As they backed out, other figures began to gather in the room. One-Thumb recognized the
outline of Markmor flickering.
In the foyer, Amoli handed the gold to her eunuch. "Let's get back to the Maze," she said.
"This place is dangerous."
 One-Thumb sent the pirate cook home and spent the rest of the night in the familiar
business of dispensing drink and krrf and haggling over rates of exchange. He took a
judicious amount of krrf himselfтАФthe domestic kindтАФto keep alert. But nothing
supernatural happened, and nothing more exciting than a routine eye-gouging over a dice
dispute. He did have to step over a deceased ex-patron when he went to lock up at dawn. At
least he'd had the decency to die outside, so no report had to be made.
One reason he liked to take the death shift was the interesting ambience of Sanctuary in
the early morning. The sunlight was hard, revealing rather than cleansing. Litter and
excrement in the gutters. A few exhausted revelers, staggering in small groups or sitting
half-awake, blade out, waiting for a bunk to clear at first bell. Dogs nosing the evening's
remains. Decadent, stale, worn, mortal. He took dark pleasure in it. Double pleasure this
morning, a light krrf overdose singing deathsong in his brain.