"Karl Edward Wagner - Kane 01 - Darkness Weaves" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wagner Karl Edward)

pretty-faced whore with curious scars spiraling each bright-rouged breast was expertly rifling the purse of
the incautious seaman who embraced her. A balding, filthy onetime sergeant of the Nostoblet city guard
was amusing several jeering rednecks with his whining plea for a drink.

Here and there small groups of men sat hunched over their tables in low whispers, hatching plans of
which the city guard would give much to learn. But the city guard seldom ventured into the riverport
alleys of Nostoblet except to collect bribes, and Selram Honest cared nothing for his guests' affairs, so
long as they had money for his hospitality. Each man's business was his own. No one paid the least
attention, therefore, to the hushed exchange that was taking place between Arbas the assassin and the
stranger from Thovnos.

At least, no one with the possible exception of a one-eared soldier in nondescript harness, who had
entered the Tavern of Selram Honest not long after Imel. The burly warrior's decrepit battle gear and
glowering visage insured his solitude from enterprising whores or talkative drunks. On the hand that
raised his alecup occasionally to his lips, there shone a carven silver ring set with a massive amethyst. The
crystal flashed violet in the smoky yellow light of the tavern. But the silent man sat far across the crowded
room from Arbas and Imel, well out of earshot. And if his gaze seemed too frequently turned in their
direction, perhaps it was drawn by the dark-haired girl in multi-colored silks who danced upon the table
somewhat beyond the two.

Imel remained in silent speculation for a moment, ignoring the smouldering anger in the assassin's dark
face. This man was more difficult, more dangerous than he had at first judged him to be, and he was
uncertain as to how deeply involved Arbas might be with his mission. At least for the present, he knew he
must rely on the assassin. Diplomacy, then. Satisfy his suspicions, but tell him nothing important.

"Then it was Bindoff who sent me to you," said the stranger, smiling at Arbas's startled reaction on
hearing the Black Priest's name. "Now have we a deal?"

Arbas's estimation of the Thovnosian underwent a radical change. He had half assumed the stranger was
a bounty hunter and was considering a lonely spot for a knifing--but that he even knew of the Black
Priest's connections with the man he sought was a telling point in his favor. Bindoff had guarded that
secret with characteristic thoroughness. Perhaps, then, the man had in some inexplicable manner gained
Bindoff's confidence. It might be worth the risk.

"Have you, say, twenty-five mesitsi gold [about two hundred dollars]?" Arbas asked casually. The
stranger faked a hesitant pause--no merit in giving the assassin reason to think to ask for more. "I can
raise it."

Arbas licked the foam from his mustache before replying. "All right, then. Bring it to me here two nights
from tonight. I'll arrange for you to meet Kane."

"Why not tonight?" Imel urged.

"Not a chance, friend. Anyway, I guess I'll do me some checking on you before we go anywhere."
Noting the stranger's annoyed impatience, Arbas quoted: "Happy in his folly, the fool embraced the
devil."

The stranger laughed. "Spare me the scriptures. What is there about this Kane, though, that gives him so
evil a reputation? Surely one of your position is unjustified in casting aspersions on anyone."