"Martha Wells - City of Bones" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wells Martha)

dock laborers. An upper-tier Patrician down in the market quarters of the Fifth Tier meant one
thingтАФTrade Inspector.
ArnotтАЩs wife, caught in the act of passing over the brass counters, each representing several days of
artisanтАЩs labor, froze and stared at the intruders, her gray brows coming together in consternation. Sagai
had his hand out, Khat and Arnot were obviously giving their countenance to the deal, and the
merchandise lay in plain view on the stool.
It took them all several moments to remember that there was nothing illegal about what they were
doing.
Smiling, the man looks up at his companion across the table and says, тАЬItтАЩs an intriguing
game, where one player sees the board and the other is blindfolded.тАЭ
тАЬYes,тАЭ she replies. тАЬBut which player are we?тАЭ
Arnot nudged his wife, and she dropped the counters into SagaiтАЩs palm. Sagai tucked them away
inside his robe, and exchanged a look with Khat. Their expressions betrayed nothing; it would have been
a mistake to show any kind of fear.
Arnot took his wifeтАЩs elbow and steered her toward the door of the shop, a protective gesture Khat
was surprised to see from the cutthroat dealer. Arnot growled, тАЬWe close early today.тАЭ
Khat exchanged a look with Sagai to make sure they were both thinking along the same lines, then
stepped out from under the awning. One of the dockworkers moved to intercept him and said, тАЬAre you
Khat, the relic dealer from the Sixth Tier?тАЭ
The man was smiling at him unpleasantly. He was big for a lower-tier city dweller and blond, his
short-cropped hair greasy with sweat and blown sand. The one who hung back with the Patrician was
short and stocky, wearing a red headcloth. He carried an air gun slung casually over one shoulder. The
copper ball beneath the stock that was the gunтАЩs air reservoir had been recently polished, and the
skeleton butt had shiny brass fittings.
Khat didnтАЩt answer, and Sagai shouldered his way gently past the dockworker before the man could
react, saying, тАЬExcuse us, gentlemen.тАЭ
Khat followed Sagai up the narrow canyon of the street. Walls of black rock and mud brick rose up
on either side of them, with narrow doorways on the lower levels and shallow balconies and windows on
the upper, some with cheap tin shutters painted with desert flowers or luck signs. Clothes hung out to air
festooned some of the upper floors, and sewer stink was suspended in the still, hot air. The three men
followed them, though not fast enough to be actually chasing them, and the rifle wielder did nothing
overtly threatening. Sagai muttered, тАЬAnd the day was going so well, too.тАЭ
Trade Inspectors would never have let them walk away. But Khat and Sagai had no Patrician clients
and no reason to expect any, with rifle-wielding guards or without. тАЬ тАШWasтАЩ is right,тАЭ Khat answered,
irritated. Their pursuers were still too close for them to dodge down any connecting alleys.
The street widened into an open court, where a fountain carved into the shape of an upended tortoise
shell played and the sewer stink was not quite so bad. There was still no opportunity to bolt. Grim now,
Sagai said, тАЬThey know your name, obviously. They may know where we live. WeтАЩll have to talk to
them.тАЭ
Khat couldnтАЩt think of a better idea, so he took a seat on the fountainтАЩs wide edge to wait for their
pursuers to catch up, and Sagai rested one sandaled foot next to him.
Women in light-colored kaftans filled jugs and buckets at the fountain and lingered to talk, old men sat
on the stone balconies above them and smoked clay pipes, and a shrieking gang of children tore by,
scattering a peddlerтАЩs collection of baskets and stampeding some stray goats. An old woman sat on a
faded red rug near the fountain, telling fortunes by burning fragments of bone in a brazier. The old man
who kept the fountain casually strolled toward them and shook his clay bowl of coins and tokens
suggestively, reminding them to pay before using the water.
The Patrician and the hireling with the rifle stopped several paces away, the blond man coming nearer
to confront them. Khat lounged at ease on the fountain rim, and Sagai regarded the manтАЩs approach with
polite interest. None of the other inhabitants of the court fled at the sight of the possible altercation, but