"Lawrence Watt-Evans - Ethshar 10 - The Vondish Ambassador" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watt-Evans Lawrence)

"Do you mean that, or are you being polite?" He had an odd way of
drawing out certain consonants; Emmis did not think he had ever heard this
particular accent before.
Emmis blinked. "My services are indeed available," he said. "For a
reasonable charge."
The foreigner cocked his head to one side. "We will decide later on what
is reasonable, but you're hired."
Emmis smiled. "To do what, my lord?"
The stranger did not smile back. "Don't call me that," he snapped. "I'm
not a lord."
Emmis wiped his own smile away. "My apologies, sir. I saw them bow."
The foreigner waved that away. "Apology accepted." He turned and
shouted, "Fetch my baggage!"
Two of the sailors hastened to obey.
"Come on," the foreigner said, beckoning for Emmis to follow him toward
shore.
Emmis did not move. "Sir?"
The foreigner stopped and turned. "Yes?"
"You have not yet told me what my duties are to be, nor my pay. I can't
consider myself employed until I know more."
 The foreigner nodded. "A reasonable..." He seemed to grope for the right
word without finding it. "A reasonable thing," he said at last. "Od'na ya
Semmat?"
Emmis blinked. "What?"
"You don't speak Semmat?"
"I never heard of Semmat."
He nodded. "Trader's Tongue? Ksinallionese? Ophkaritic? Thanorian?"
"I've heard of Trader's Tongue, and maybe know a few words," Emmis said
warily. "If you're looking for a translator, I might be able to find you
one..."
"Ah!" The stranger flung up a hand. "There! You see? You know your
duties!"
The little knot of other laborers had reached them; the foreigner waved
them past, toward the gangplank, where the sailors welcomed them aboard and
began directing them. Brass-bound trunks and leather handbags were starting to
appear on the dock, lined up beside the gangplank.
"No, sir," Emmis said. "I don't know."
The foreigner sighed. "You live here, yes? In Ethshar of the Spices?"
"Yes. I was born here, over near Olive Street." He gestured in the
direction of his parents' home. "And I live behind Canal Square."
"You know the city well?"
"I suppose so, yes."
"Then I hire you! To know the city for me. To tell me what I need to
know, and take me where I want to go."
"A guide? You want to hire me as your guide?"
The foreigner smacked himself on the forehead with the heel of one hand.
"Guide! That's the word. I couldn't think it. In Semmat it's almit, in
Trader's Tongue it's elfur, and I could not remember the Ethsharitic. Guide,
of course. Yes."
Emmis hesitated. He did not particularly like the idea of showing this