"John Morressy - The game is a foot (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Morressy John)

him and asked, "What brings a scholar out on such a foul night, if I may ask,
Master Siger?"
Caught off his guard, Kedrigern gave a start and blinked. He was momentarily
puzzled, but quickly recovered his wits. Siger. Scholar. Yes, of course, Siger
of Trondhjem. He had identified himself as an itinerant scholar. It was an
incognito he used often in his travels, one that aroused no unwarranted fear
or unhealthy suspicion among those he encountered. "I'm on my way to visit a
philosopher. I have some questions about his observations on mutability," he
replied.
"Oh. Mutability." Corgin nodded, looking very serious.
"Fascinating subject, mutability."
"Don't know much about it, myself."
"Hardly anyone does."
After a long pause, Corgin asked, "What is mutability, anyway?"
"I'm not quite certain. That's why I'm visiting the philosopher," Kedrigern
said.
Corgin pondered that for a time, then gave another slow nod. The young man did
not join the conversation, and the sleepers slept on. The dialogue lapsed, as
Kedrigern had meant it to. He yawned. After a long silence, the innkeeper
said, "We don't get many philosophers passing this way."
"Philosophers aren't much for traveling."
"No." After a longer silence, the innkeeper said, "We get a lot of merchants.
Some pilgrims. Last month a courier stayed here. No philosophers, though. Or
scholars."
Kedrigern gave a little noncommittal grunt. He could feel his eyes, and his
mind, glazing over.
"We have a sheriff here tonight," said the innkeeper, indicating with his
thumb the young man.
Kedrigern raised a hand in salute. "I'm Siger of Trondhjem," he said, giving
his scholar's pseudonym.
"My name is Rury," said the sheriff. "I enforce the king's justice in this
part of the kingdom."
"Are you here in your professional capacity, or are --"
A knock at the door broke in on his inquiry and shattered the peaceful scene
in an instant. It was not a casual knock, but an importunate blow that
resounded through the house and set pots and dishes to rattling, and it was
quickly followed by a dozen more blows of equal force and several indistinct,
but angry, shouts. Corgin sprang to his feet and hurried to the door. The
sleeping couple started awake with a cry of alarm. Rury's hand went to his
dagger. Kedrigern, who more out of habit than caution had worked a basic
warning spell before entering the inn, was unperturbed. "Nothing to worry
about. It's only a traveler," he said.
Rury gave him a quick suspicious glance. "How do you know?"
"A simple exercise in logic. Robbers don't knock, they break in. And any
traveler looking for a meal and a bed on a night like this is sure to knock
impatiently."
Kedrigern was outwardly nonchalant; inwardly he was furious with himself for
his lapse. Once reveal the slightest hint of wizardly power and everyone in
the vicinity wants a spell or a charm or a disenchantment, and there goes your
peace and quiet.