"Zelazny, Roger - Bring Me The Head Of Prince Charming" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zelazny Roger)

Rognir minded very much, but since dwarves are no match for demons in equal contest, he decided to let discretion reign and to hell with valor.
"Help yourself."
Azzie emptied out the bag. He kicked aside the rubies which Rognir had garnered in Burma, ignored the Colombian emeralds, pushed aside the southern African diamonds with their sinister future connotations, and picked up a small piece of pink-colored stone, shaped in a cylinder.
"Looks like felixite to me," he said. "Would you mind if I borrowed this for a while?"
Rognir shrugged since there was nothing he could do about it. "Just be sure to give it back."
"Don't worry," Azzie said, and turned to leave. Then he looked again at the precious stones scattered underfoot. He said, "Look here, Rognir, you seem a good sort for a dwarf. How about if you and I strike a bargain?"
"What did you have in mind?"
"I have a certain enterprise afoot. I can't say much about it now, but it has to do with the upcoming Millennial celebrations. I need the felixite and your jewels, because without money a demon can do nothing. If I get the backing I expect from the High Evil Powers, I will be able to repay you tenfold."
"But I was planning to take these home and add them to my heap," Rognir said. He stooped down and began to pick up his jewels.
"You probably have a pretty big heap already, haven't you?"
"Oh, it's nothing to be ashamed of," Rognir said, with the complacency of a dwarf whose heap could bear comparison with the best.
"Then why not leave these stones with me? Your heap at home is plenty big already."
"That doesn't stop me from wanting it to be bigger!"
"Of course not. But if you add them to your heap, your money won't be working for you. Whereas if you invest this with me, it will."
"Money working for me? What a curious concept! I hadn't known money was supposed to work."
"It is a concept from the future, and it makes very good sense. Why shouldn't money work? Everything else has to."
"That's a good point," Rognir said. "But what assurance do I have that you will keep your word? All I'll have is your word that your word's good if I take this offer, whereas if I don't take the offer, I'll still have all my gems."
"I can make this offer irresistibly attractive to you," Azzie said. "Instead of following normal banking procedure, I am going to pay you your profit in advance."
"My profit? But I haven't even invested with you."
"I realize that. Therefore, as an inducement, I am going to give you the interest you will make in a year's time investing with me."
"And what do I have to do?"
"Just open your hands."
"Well, all right," said Rognir, who, like most dwarves, couldn't resist a profit.
"Here you are," Azzie said. He gave Rognir two of the smaller diamonds, one ruby with the tiniest flaw, and three perfect emeralds.
Rognir accepted them and looked at them uncertainly. But aren't these mine?"
"Of course! They are your profit!"
"But they were mine to begin with!"
"I know. But you loaned them to me."
"I did? I don't remember."
"You remember accepting the profit, don't you, when I offered it?"
"Of course. Who turns down a profit?"
"You did quite right. But your profit was based on loaning me the stones so I could make your profit from them. Now you have several of them back. But I still owe you those that I returned as well as the rest. They are principal. In a year you will get them all back. And you have already gotten the profit."
"I'm not so sure of this," Rognir mused.
"Trust me," Azzie said. "You've made a wise investment. It has been a pleasure to do business with you."
"Wait a minute!"
Azzie scooped up the rest of the stones and, not forgetting the piece of felixite, vanished into the upper world. Demons are able to vanish, of course, and this generally gives them a working sense of theater.

Chapter 6

It was long since Azzie had visited Rome. This city was an especial favorite of demons, and they had long been accustomed to travel there for sight-seeing, sometimes individually, often in groups of hundreds, complete with women and children demons, and accompanied by guide demons who lectured on what had gone on in this place or that. There was no lack of good things to see. Above all, the cemeteries were high on the list of attractions. Reading the tombstone inscriptions afforded much amusement and cemeteries were good melancholy places for reflection, what with their tall dark cypresses and ancient moss-covered monuments. And, too, Rome was an exciting place to be in those days, what with the continual electing of this Pope and excommunicating of that Pope, as well as the opportunity to help things go a little worse.
And it was especially exciting because this was the Millennium, the year A.D. 1000. Otto III was Holy Roman Emperor, and there was much contesting between his German followers and the Italians who supported the local candidates. The Roman nobles were regularly up in arms against Otto, and there was continual attack and rout. It wasn't safe for a human to walk the streets after dark, and there were perils even by day. Bands of lawless mercenaries roamed the streets, and woe to man or maid who fell into their hands.
Azzie flew in just at dusk, when the sun was setting over the Adriatic, illuminating the domes and towers of Rome with brightness while the terra-cotta rooftops were already darkened with evening gloom. He flew low over the twisted streets, dipping down to take an appreciative look at the Forum and the Colosseum. Then he gained altitude again and soared to the Palatine. Here there was a very special cemetery, the Narbozzi, and this was the place where the demons, since time out of mind, had been holding their annual poker games. With luck, the game would be held here again this year.
The Narbozzi cemetery, stretching for many hectares along the undulating northern limit of the Palatine, was covered with marble sarcophagi, stone crosses, and family tombs. Azzie wandered among the Narbozzi's overgrown grassy ways, which became clearer to him as the sun went down, for demons see better at night, it being their natural medium. The cemetery was large and he feared he might miss the location of the game altogether. He hoped not. He had his good-luck amulet, Rognir's felixite, securely wrapped in parchment with a sign of King Solomon on it. Also in his pouch were the gemstones of Rognir's heap, his stake for the coming game.
He hurried along, and soon the twilight had given way to full night. A horned moon appeared overhead, and Sirius the Dog Star glowed red in the heavens, a fine omen for evil. There was a sound of locusts and a throbbing of frogs from the nearby swamps. Azzie began to wonder if he had come to the wrong cemetery - Rome at this time held the world record for cemeteries of high antiquarian interest. It would take him too long to check them all out, and he didn't even have a complete list.
He was just starting to curse himself for his lack of preparedness- he should have gotten in touch with the Supernatural Convention Committee to find the exact location of the game-when he heard a sound, reassuringly unhuman. He moved toward it, and it distinguished itself as laughter. It was coming from the east side of the Narbozzi, the side known in antiquity as "the Accursed." As he came closer he heard oaths being sworn, and then he made out the tremendous kettledrum laughter of Newzejoth, one of the great lords among demons, the sound of whose voice was unforgettable. Swiftly he flew to the source of the sound.
The demons were camped in a little hollow between the great marble sarcophagus of Romulus and the more recent tomb of Pompey. They were in a small grove surrounded by a circle of ilex trees. Although they had been there no more than a few hours, the area already showed the signs of chaos and squalor which characterize demon gatherings. Huge vats of ichor had been brought in for refreshment. There were fires here and there, and kitchen familiars roasted people-parts of many different nations over hot charcoal.
Azzie was soon made welcome by the other demons. "Light meat or dark?" a succubus asked him. But Azzie had no time to eat, delicious though the young humans appeared to be, all golden brown from the spit.
"Where's the game?" he asked.
"Right over there," the succubus told him. She was an Indian demon, as Azzie could tell by the ring in her nose and the fact that her feet were turned backward. She smiled at him seductively. She was indeed beautiful, but Azzie had no time for dalliance right now, nor the appetite, because gambling fever was raging in his veins, and he hastened toward the circle.
The card-playing demons were gathered in a circle lit by balefires and tallow candles made of unsavory waxy substances. There was also an outer circle of demons, gathered to watch and comment on the action. As Azzie came to the circle a big hand was in progress. In the pot were a scattering of gold coins, some silver denarii, and a human torso, worth plenty since blood was still dripping from the stumps of its arms and legs. The final bet was made, and a small, potbellied demon with skinny arms and legs and a great long nose (a Laplander, to judge from his reindeer sweater) won it and raked it all in.