"John Meaney - Blood and Verse" - читать интересную книгу автора (Meaney John)

IтАЩm in my room, alone, trembling with delayed anger at the womanтАЩs
presumption and dismissal.

Is there no honour on this world?

Local mores. Ha! Ignorance, more like.
 There are Great Houses devoted to the Tao SanтАЩVerso, the Way of Blood
and Verse, in every kingdom of Calazzo IV. Each House is honoured and respected,
even venerated. Saint Alphonse of the Scimitar belonged to my own House, which
has endured for ten millennia, and will be there still when I return.

Parochial bumpkins...

I could slay them all; but that goes against every tenet of artistry I have ever
learned.

***

The large, pretty girl behind the quickglass desk is dressed in white and
crimsonтАФmy HouseтАЩs livery colours: a good omen. Her open smile is welcoming.

No oneтАЩs warned her about me.

Because no one here could be a worthy subject for my work?

Perhaps theyтАЩll leave me alone, just long enough.

тАЬExcuse me, please,тАЭ I say. тАЬDoes the hotel have skimmers for rent?тАЭ

тАЬOh, sorry. TheyтАЩre all gone.тАЭ She stares: a lased-in her-eyes-only display.
тАЬBut weтАЩve some pogos left.тАЭ

тАЬI beg your pardon?тАЭ

тАЬPoтАФOh, skimmerettes.тАЭ Frowning, she adds: тАЬYou need a sense of balance
to use one.тАЭ

This morning, in my room before breakfast, I ran for an hour upon my folded
travelling-cloak. In that configuration, its smartfibres slide in laminar flow, allowing
me cardio conditioning while deadening the sound. Afterwards, I stretched for half
an hour. Then I drew poignards, fistblades and needles, to enact the Ballad of Cut
and Fade in all its subtle glory. ItтАЩs one of my HouseтАЩs premier fighting poems,
whose penetrating words and vivid mind-frames re-circuit the nervous system with
devastating artistic strength. Wielding imaginary death with finesse and style, I sang
its major verses, raising Zen Neuronal Coding to the level of high art and warrior
honour.

тАЬMy balance is ... reasonable,тАЭ I tell the girl.