"Jack Vance - The Eyes of the Overworld" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vance Jack)

balconies, sky-walks, cupolas, together with three spiral green glass towers through which the red
sunlight shone in twisted glints and peculiar colors.
Behind the manse and across the valley, low hills rolled away like dunes to the limit of vision.
The sun projected shifting crescents of black shadow; otherwise the hills were unmarked, empty,
solitary. The Xzan, rising in the Old Forest to the east of Almery, passed below, then three
leagues to the west made junction with the Scaum. Here was Azenomei, a town old beyond memory,
notable now only for its fair, which attracted folk from all the region. At Azenomei Fair Cugel
had established a booth for the sale of talismans.
Cugel was a man of many capabilities, with a disposition at once flexible and pertinacious. He was
long of leg, deft of hand, light of finger, soft of tongue. His hair was the blackest of black
fur, growing low down his fore-bead, coving sharply back above his eyebrows. His darting eye, long
inquisitive nose and droll mouth gave his somewhat lean and bony face an expression of vivacity,
candor, and affability. He had known many vicissitudes, gaining therefrom a suppleness, a fine


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discretion, a mastery of both bravado and stealth. Coming into the possession of an ancient lead
coffinтАФafter discarding the contentsтАФhe had formed a number of leaden lozenges.
The Eyes of the Overwork!
These, stamped with appropriate seals and runes, he offered for sale at the Azenomei Fair.
Unfortunately for Cugel, not twenty paces from his booth a certain Fianosther had established a
larger booth with articles of greater variety and more obvious efficacy, so that whenever Cugel
halted a passerby to enlarge upon the merits of his merchandise, the passerby would like as not
display an article purchased from Fianosther and go his way.
On the third day of the fair Cugel had disposed of only four periapts, at prices barely above the
cost of the lead itself, while Fianosther was hard put to serve all his customers. Hoarse from
bawling futile inducements, Cugel closed down his booth and approached Fianosther's place of trade
in order to inspect the mode of construction and the fastenings at the door.
Fianosther, observing, beckoned him to approach. "Enter, my friend, enter. How goes your trade?"
"In all candor, not too well," said Cugel. "I am both perplexed and disappointed, for my talismans
are not obviously useless."
"I can resolve your perplexity," said Fianosther. "Your booth occupies the site of the old gibbet,
and has absorbed unlucky essences. But I thought to notice you examining the manner in which the
timbers of my booth are joined. You will obtain a better view from within, but first I must
shorten the chain of the 'captive erb which roams the premises during the night."
"No need," said Cugel. "My interest was cursory.'* "As to the disappointment you suffer,"
Fianosther went on, "it need not persist. Observe these shelves. You will note that my stock is
seriously depleted."
Cugel acknowledged as much. "How does this concern me?"
Fianosther pointed across the way to a man wearing garments of black. This man was small, yellow
of skin, bald as a stone. His eyes resembled knots in a plank; his mouth was wide and curved in a
grin of chronic mirth. "There stands lucounu the Laughing Magician," said Fianosther. "In a short
time he will come into my booth and attempt to buy a particular red libram, the casebook of
Dibarcas Maior, who studied under Great Phandaal. My price is higher than he will pay, but he is a
patient
8
The Eyes of the Overworld
man, and will remonstrate for at least three hours. During this time his manse stands untenanted.