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

the women who had not been disturbed by Khat and SagaiтАЩs presence at the fountain found reasons to
move on, and the water keeper retreated across the court.
The rifleтАЩs odd, Khat decided. It was an upper-tier weapon, used by lictors assigned to court
officials or paid vigils. Even bonetakers and cutthroat thieves could only afford to carry knives.
Presumably the Patrician could have hired the dockworkers and given them the weapon to defend him,
but it was hard to believe he would be quite that trusting. It was more likely that the pair were private
vigils as much accustomed to the upper tier as their master. And who are they protecting him from? he
wondered. The septuagenarian fountain keeper maybe, or the beggar woman telling fortunes? This
was only the Fifth Tier, not the Eighth. Still smiling, the blond man spoke to Khat. тАЬIтАЩm Kythen Seul, and
I know who you are.тАЭ
On the table is an iron bowl half-filled with hot coals. The bones will be burned there as the
man looks past the slow turning of time. He does not know the reason for this except that a
symbolic death by fire seems to aid the process.
His companion watches.
Well, Khat hadnтАЩt tried to hide it. He said, тАЬThen why did you ask?тАЭ He felt his theory was
confirmed. Seul spoke Tradetongue too well for a dockworker. Khat looked over at the Patrician, who
seemed to have a slight build under all that heavy cloth. His inner robes were rough silk without
beadwork or embroidery, the outer mantle of tougher cotton, and the long gauze veil was wound around
his head and over the lower half of his face. Not ostentatious, unless you considered how far such
materials had to be ported across the Waste to reach the Charisat markets. Khat wore a light shirt over
tight trousers and soft leather boots, with his robe folded back and tied off around his waist, and to
anyone accustomed to the robes and heavy veiling affected by CharisatтАЩs upper-tier nobility, this was
practically undressed. The krismen needed less protection from the sun than he did relief from the heat; it
was cooler out on the Waste than it was on the black stone of CharisatтАЩs streets in the afternoon.
Seul displayed his tolerance of uppity krismen by ignoring the question. He glanced pointedly at Sagai
and said, тАЬYour friend can go.тАЭ
тАЬOh, but we have business still to do together,тАЭ Sagai said, as if he thought it suggestion rather than
command. тАЬI prefer to stay.тАЭ
SeulтАЩs eyes hardened, but the smile didnтАЩt disappear. Khat was beginning to dislike that smile. Seul
inclined his head back toward the Patrician, and said, тАЬThe Honored needs a knowledgeable guide to
take him to the Ancient Remnant on the Tersalten Flat.тАЭ
Sagai frowned. тАЬThe one to the west?тАЭ
тАЬYes.тАЭ
Khat had done this before, but usually for scholars from some other city or the Academia, and he
didnтАЩt feel accommodating today.
тАЬIf you already know where it is,тАЭ he said patiently, but with the patience usually reserved for a child,
тАЬwhy do you need a guide?тАЭ
тАЬI donтАЩt need a guide.тАЭ SeulтАЩs voice took on a testy edge. тАЬI prefer one.тАЭ
тАЬAnd you want me to suggest someone?тАЭ Khat looked mildly confused. As a way to drive someone
wild he had found this was second to few, especially when what the person was trying to tell you was as
plain as daylight.
тАЬNo, I want you.тАЭ
Khat smiled back at him for the first time, a particularly krismen expression that revealed pointed
canines and had an unequivocal meaning. тАЬThe whorehouse is down that way.тАЭ Out of the corner of his
eye he saw Sagai glance briefly skyward, as if asking the air spirits to witness what he had to deal with on
a daily basis. His partner had also unobtrusively rested a hand on the knife hilt concealed by a fold of his
robe.
SeulтАЩs smile came close to evaporating, but he only said, тАЬThe Honored doesnтАЩt ask for free service.
He intends to pay.тАЭ
Before Khat could answer, Sagai interposed, тАЬMight one ask why?тАЭ