"Juliet E. McKenna - Einarinn 1 - The Thief's Gamble" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKenna Juliet E)

matter-of-fact about it. The memory could still wake me in a cold sweat if I
was overtired or feeling low, that in itself was part of the reason I wanted
some small measure of revenge. As for the rest, I'd learned I'd come out of it
lightly if you could believe the broadsheets' lurid tales of mutilated bodies
and the sad strangled corpse I'd once seen dragged from a river.
I stared at the window. I could still feel the terror but, more importantly
for my present ambitions, I pictured the details of window- and
shutter-catches, engraved on my memory. I had made it my business to learn
a range of skills in case I should ever again get stranded with no money and I
knew I could get in if I could find a place where I could work unobserved
for a while. I walked round the house and saw a side window facing the
blank wall of the stable-block; ideal. It took less time than I had feared and I
found myself in a library. That was a surprise; who would have thought the
ape could read. I opened the door cautiously but there was no sound or light
from any direction. The house smelled of beeswax and possessed a chill that
spoke of several days without fires. I moved along the corridor, my soft
soles noiseless on the polished floorboards. The salon door was locked but
that did not delay me for long. The darkness was troubling me by now, not
even real Forest Folk can see in complete blackness, but I could still recall
the layout of the room and put my hand unerringly on the mantel.
 What should I take? The temptation was to sweep the lot into my little
padded sack; I owed the scum for the scars on my cheek and temple and for
the old man I had been driven to knock over for his purse further down the
road. I dismissed that foolishness; I would take one of the smaller pieces,
that would be enough. I ran my hand along the shelf and lifted a long-necked
vase. No, too unusual, I could not price it reliably. Next along was a goblet,
a coat of arms deeply incised on its side. Too easily identifiable. I passed
over a platter and some spoons that felt too light to be genuine and then
found a small lidded tankard. It was plain, apart from scrolls on the handle
and lid, but had a reassuring weight. The handle was smooth and fit neatly in
my hand; it was just the sort if thing I would have liked for myself. It was
towards the back of the shelf, behind two ornate wine jugs; did that mean it
was less likely to be missed? Perhaps, but I intended to be long gone before
then. I pocketed the tankard and lifted the remaining pieces to dust the shelf;
no point in leaving clues and a dozy maid might not notice the loss for a few
days.
By now my eyes were aching from straining in the dim light and I left
rapidly the way I had come. Refastening the window took some time and the
sky was starting to lighten by the time I returned to the inn. It occurred to me
that some hapless footman or the like would get blamed for the theft but I
cannot say that bothered me; serve them right for working for such a turd. I
only hoped his anguish when he discovered the loss was as deep as I wanted.
My gamble was paying off nicely so far. I got into my bed for what remained
of the night and slept deep and dreamlessly.


The Chamber of Planir the Black
in the Island City of Hadrumal, 12th of For-Autumn
Share a bottle with an Archmage and you'll either be ruined or made for
life - that's what they used to say, isn't it, Otrick?' The stout man speaking