"Fritz Leiber - FGM 7 - The Knight and Knave of Swords" - читать интересную книгу автора (Leiber Fritz)

own chief lieutenant Skor. The little man (Captain Mouser, now) had planned on
getting back to Rime Isle before the winter blizzards.

Gale interrupted his musings. "Did Aunt Afreyt tell you, Captain
Fafhrd, about cousin Cif seeing a ghost or something last night in the council
hall treasury, which only she has a key to?" The girl was holding up the big
target bag clutched against her so that he could pull out the arrows and
return them over shoulder to their quiver.

"I don't think so," he temporized. Actually, he hadn't seen Afreyt
today, or Cif either for that matter. For the past few nights he hadn't been
sleeping at Afreyt's but with his men and the Mouser's at the dormitory they
rented from Groniger, Salthaven's harbor master and chief councilman, the
better to supervise the mischievous thieves in the Mouser's absence -- or at
least that was an explanation on which he and Afreyt could safely agree. "What
did the ghost look like?"

"It looked very mysterious," Gale told him, her pale blue eyes widening
above the bag which hid the lower part of her face. "Sort of silvery and dark,
and it vanished when Cif went closer. She called Groniger, who was around, but
they couldn't find anything. She told Afreyt it looked like a princess-lady or
a big thin fish."

"How could something look like a woman and a fish?" Fafhrd asked with a
short laugh, tugging out the last arrow.

"Well, there are mermaids, aren't there?" she retorted triumphantly,
letting the bag fall.

"Yes," Fafhrd admitted, "though I don't expect Groniger would agree
with us. Say," he went on, his face losing for a bit its faintly drawn,
worried look, "put the target bag behind that rock. I've thought of a way to
shoot around corners."

"Oh, good!" She rolled the target bag close against the back of one of
the ursine, large gray stones and they walked off a couple of hundred yards.
Fafhrd turned. The air was very still. A distant small cloud hid the low sun,
though the sky was otherwise very blue and bright. He swiftly drew an arrow
and laid it against the short wooden thumb he'd affixed to the bow near its
center just above its tang. He took a couple of shuffling steps while his
frowning eyes measured the distance between him and the rock. Then he leaned
suddenly back and discharged the arrow high into the air. It went up, up, then
came swiftly down -- close behind the rock, it looked.

"That's not around a corner," Gale protested. "Anybody can do that. I
meant sideways."

"You didn't say so," he told her. "Corners can be up or down or
sideways right or left. What's the difference?"