"Andrew J. Offutt - Cormac 02 - The Tower of Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Offutt Andrew J)

тАЬHandsome,тАЭ he said casually. тАЬYes. But as I mentioned, trade becomes ruinous. And there are bribes. The
custom-house must document, for lawful credibility, such goods as I buy from you... the which is naturally
not done for love. Its chief grows more and more demanding. IтАЩve cut back his profits, and chanced the sale of
more common goods without telling him, but what you bring tonight is not of that class. тАЩTis
conspicuousтАФsuch as none but kings or great nobles can purchase. Such folk are finicky over forms of law,
if not their letter.тАЭ
тАЬWe can spare ye the danger and worry,тАЭ Cormac said bluntly. тАЬItтАЩs kings and great nobles there are in the
west of Britain whose fathers never bowed to Rome. These are not, I promise ye, finicky with forms of law. ItтАЩs
no such foolish questions as where we got it theyтАЩd be asking.тАЭ
тАЬThere now, father, see what youтАЩve done!тАЭ This from Clodia, leaning on CormacтАЩs shoulder. тАЬThis customs
official Nestor is greedy, trueтАФbut he takes what he can get, and sweats and shivers oтАЩ nights, I shouldnтАЩt
wonder, lest the Consul get wind of his... private transactions. What can he do but complain? Nay, heтАЩs that
eager to tumble me he scarcely even does thatтАФthe fool, hankering to mix business with venery!тАЭ (Which
was CormacтАЩs own opinion on the matter, and the reason he had not tumbled Clodia in the years of their
acquaintance.) тАЬI doubt he so much as suspects heтАЩs been cheated.тАЭ
Someone found that cue too apt for resisting.
An object, impelled up the stairs by a casual toss, arced through the doorway left open for the promised ale.
Its distinct sodden thump on the floor drew their eyes, which widened, BalsusтАЩs and ClodiaтАЩs in profound
horror. The object rolled to a terminus and tilted a face of starkest agony towards them.
Balsus croaked involuntarily, тАЬNestor!тАЭ
Cormac did three things, and on the instant, and so near simultaneously that the difference was not a
practical issue. He shoved Clodia violently away lest she cling to him in shock. He sprang to his feet,
overturning his chair. He ripped sword from sheath with a harsh metal whine.
And one action more he took. Stooping, he snatched his helmet and covered his square-cut black mop with
it.
All this was done whiles Wulfhere and Thorfinn were rearing upright, in an explosion of hair-trigger response
too swift for the eye. Then Cormac was ominously, totally still again, a strip of edged pointed steel in one
hand and readiness to kill in every line of him. Yellow lamplight shone on his mail and helmet.
Men seethed into the room, ten or a dozen, disposing themselves either side of the door.
Cormac recognized them as Franks.
Ax-armed they were, in long leather vests and closefitting trews; with the backs of their heads shaved bald,
most of the remaining hair drawn up in a thick tress on top of the head and the rest combed forward in a
fringe over their brows, they could be from no other tribe.
No half-civilized Goths or Vandals had they here, but untamed killers out of the forest marches.
тАЬLet nobody,тАЭ a voice came from the dark beyond the door, тАЬmove a finger.тАЭ
The speaker sauntered in. Lithe and handsome, indeed over-handsome, begemmed and perfumed and
shaven, his dark brown hair exquisitely barbered in Roman bangs, he was a picture. Limpid hazel eyes were
scarcely needed to complete it; despite their colour, though, they had even less warmth in them than
CormacтАЩs. Too, they were as watchful, if not so slitted and deep-set.
Wulfhere looked infinities of scorn at him. The DaneтАЩs horned helmet stood on the table. Coolly, deliberately,
he set it on his shaggy head. The stranger betrayed no irritation.
тАЬA defiant fellow,тАЭ he said affectionately. тАЬA fearless, overgrown rat in the woodwork of the kingdom! You are
going to squeak like a mouse between the claws. I have some clever iron devices that will reduce you to
manageable size, a nose here, a finger-joint there. And your glowering, dark-visaged friend.тАЭ
None answered him. He lifted the head of the customs official by the blood-splashed hair.
тАЬThis fool could tell you; were he not forever dumb. But perchance his expression says enough. He did not die
graciously... and he did suspect.тАЭ
Thump went the ghastly thing on the table. Clodia started. The stranger lifted a brow in appreciation of the
sight that made.
тАЬYour late friend Nestor contracted a fever last month, and thought it was plague. He called for a priest right