"Derek Paterson - The Kaiserine's Champion" - читать интересную книгу автора (Paterson Derek)

that unlocked the iron manacles around my wrists and ankles, thus releasing me.
 "Thanks,тАЭ I said, driving my fist into his face as I rose, sending him sprawling. He cried out and rolled
onto his back, trying to get up, but my boot quickly put paid to that idea. He howled and rolled in the
night soil, clutching his crotch with both hands.

Having extracted some measure of revenge for my ill-treatment, I turned to the doorway. All thoughts of
fleeing the prison and losing myself in the alleyways and backstreets of High Sazburg dissipated abruptly
as I discovered two men standing there, watching me. They wore long black cloaks, tricorn hats, and
scarves that covered their faces so that only their eyes were visible. Both carried flintlock pistols, cocked
and pointed at my belly. They looked more like highwaymen than anything else, but I didn't need a
soothsayer to tell me they were Otto Thenck's Noseys in civilian garb, come to fetch me for their
master's pleasure.

I felt no great need to say fond farewell to the sergeant. Without a word spoken, the two men escorted
me upstairs, along a narrow corridor and outside into a high-walled courtyard. We'd passed noone else
en route. A coach drawn by matching black stallions waited in the courtyard. The highwaymen gestured
with their pistols, and I reluctantly climbed inside. The door slammed shut behind me and the coach
immediately set off. There were no handles on the inside of the door, and no windows, eitherтАФthe coach
was a miniature prison on wheels.

The coach slowly made its way through the winding city streets, shaking and rattling over cobblestones
and brickwork. Several times during the journey, the driver opened his peep hole and looked down at
me, as if satisfying himself that I wasn't up to any mischief. Like the highwaymen, he wore a scarf over his
face so I could only see his eyes. I wondered at this need for disguise, but I had other things to worry
about, not the least of which was Otto Thenck, the Magician; so I thought no more of the driver, trying
instead to imagine what must lie ahead.

A short time later, the coach stopped. The door clicked open and I surmised that the driver possessed a
mechanism which allowed him to control the door locks from above. Very clever. I climbed out and
looked up at him, expecting to receive further instructions, but he said nothing. Instead he jiggled his reins
and the coach moved off again, leaving me behind.

I found myself standing alone before a dark, gloomy building made of plain brick. Steps led up to the
front door and the tall windows on either side were closed and shuttered. It occurred to me that my path
to freedom now lay openтАФall I had to do was run. And I might have, but at that moment a group of
Wardens turned the corner at the end of the street and began walking in my direction. Their appearance
made my mind up for me. I climbed the steps, rapped on the wood and waited for an answer. Distant
footsteps came closer, then a spy-hole opened and a suspicious eyeball peered out at me.

"What do you want?тАЭ a muffled voice demanded.

"Otto Thenck sent me,тАЭ I said, watching the Wardens, who were bound to question my appearance if
not my smell. Or would they? After all, I was outside the headquarters of the Ministry of State Security
and might have authorized business there, for all they knew. But I didn't dare take that chance. If any of
them recognized me...

Heavy bolts were drawn back at last and the door swung open. A dwarf who'd had to stand on a
wooden stool to reach the spy-hole scowled up at me. He wore a black uniform with silver buttons and
epaulettes, high riding boots and a curved cavalry sword that trailed on the stained wood floor because
of his lack of altitude. His squashed face was wrinkled and lined, and his dark curly hair had turned white