"Thieves World - Beyond The Veil" - читать интересную книгу автора (Morris Janet E)

short, so put-upon, or so resentful. "But reading the deadЕ it's not pleasant."
Grit's grin flashed. "I imagine not."
"So you'll have to bear with me. Ask me again what you want to know when I've
got himЧmade contact with whatever's left, that is. It's just impressionsЕ I
might actЕ strangely." They were passing by a pair of specials who had a groom
with them.
Once they were past, Randal continued. "So bear with me. It'sЕ frightening."
"I understand. No one's going to draw any conclusions about you from this. Just
don't let on to Grillo that we're wondering how it is that he didn't know about
this fellow. I'll buy you a round of whatever strikes your fancy afterward. But
my gut's telling me this isn't just a random incident. I came upon this Belize
in the souk about curfew and escorted him here myself. Checked him out. He
didn't know anything about the town, not even enough to get a room before dark."
So that was it: Critias was afraid he might be implicated. The task force leader
didn't make friends easily, and he and Grillo were de facto rivals. Of all the
private militias in Tyse, the Stepsons and the specials enjoyed the most open
contention. When they weren't chasing Mygdonian-backed death squads or Nisibisi
refugees in the free zone, they were rousting each other. The army, of which
Tyse had a surfeitЧfour garrisons, one at each compass pointЧwas Rankan, and
thus Grillo, should he choose to, could call on garrison aid. None speculated on
what arrangement existed between Tempus and Grillo, but everyone knew it was
strained, now that they weren't fighting a common enemy. During periods of
inactivity, with no declared or obvious foe, mercenaries and career soldiers
engaged in urban war gaming to keep sharp their "edge." Part of Grille's "edge"
was caravaning contraband surreptitiously; Critias had recently interdicted a
shipment entering Tyse which Grillo couldn't have owned, but in which he surely
had invested heavily. The proceeds from the auction of this "unclaimed" salvage
were now in the Stepsons' pension fund.
It was, Randal knew, a war within a war, kept under wraps only by Tempus's and
Grillo's need to keep up appearancesЧand to some extent by their shared interest
in the continued survival of Free Nisibisis and its charismatic leader, Bashir.
Technically, Tempus outranked Grillo, being a Rankan general. Long off the
active-duty list, however, in order to employ questionable methods and lead the
mercenary life with his Sacred Band without being subject to the constraints of
Rankan oversight, he'd come to Tyse seeking vengeance upon the Nisibisi mages.
Some said the interests in Ranke he served weren't those of the emperor. Randal
didn't want to find out the truth of it. Even a seventh-level Hazard was mortal;
the Riddler was not.
Critias was talking to him as they mounted the steps, where Grillo could hear
every word. "Е a woman's weapon, or a child's. Just lay your hands on him and
give us your impressions, or whatever you do. Then we can close the matter."
"Maybe," Grillo amended. His features were aristocratic, Rankan perfect; he was
dressed like a Tysian hillman, but then he never wore a uniform, and even his
hair changed colors. Grillo's eyes, however, were a piercing Rankan blue, and
his intellect was not to be underestimated.
Randal would have lied for Critias, but he hoped Critias realized he wouldn't be
able to: one read what one read; one saw what one saw. In the deep trance he'd
need to summon to see what Belize had seen, such matters as white lies and
quotidian advantage would fade from him: he would be Belize. And he would be
dying.