"Shadow of the Warmaster" - читать интересную книгу автора (Clayton Jo)3Churri’s rich resonant baritone filled the hold; around, beneath, above it, the Omperiannas improvised a driving support (Tom’perianne, lectric harp, Nym’perianne, tronc fiddle, Lam’perianne, the flute). Kante Xalloor stretched her restraints to the utmost, standing on her cot, dancing with the twanging ties, her body singing a wordless answer to the chanted curse. Jaunniko snapped thumb and forefinger, diving headlong into the music; when Churri paused and looked at him, he began his contribution: Churri laughed, his booming laughter filling the hold, filling that echoing impossible space. Parnalee stood on his cot, straining his restraints, hunched over, slapping his shovel hands against his massive thighs, his burring basso waking echoes until his words got lost in them. The Curse Song went on and on, the transportees taking turns at soloing, their curses growing more extravagant, more surreal as each dipped into his or her culture to surpass the contribution of the last. The rest belted out the refrain until the hold rocked with it. Round and round, Churri playing variations on his verses, the Omperiannas adding flourishes, round and round until, finally, the transportees collapsed in exhaustion and laughter and fell into extravagant speculation about where Bolodo was going to dump them. “Yo, I remember you. May’s Ass.” “Aslan.” Abruptly realizing what he’d said, Jaunniko went bright red, so red his ears and the tip of his long nose were nearly purple. “Ah,” he said. “Thing is,” he said, “May sort of went round saying you had the neatest ah um derriere he uh… He turned even redder. “The time we met,” he went on hastily, “it was at a party, you probably don’t remember me, you brought your mother along and that wasn’t being too successful, I talked to her a while, she was bored out of her skull, one icy lady…” He sneaked a look at her. Her expression must have been rather daunting, because he stopped talking altogether. After she calmed down, she took pity on him and changed the subject. “How’d Bolodo get you?” He stretched out on his cot, crossed his ankles, laced his fingers over his flat stomach. “I’d just got my papers. Junior Master. May found me a commission, he’s good about that, you know, Jeengid in the Blade, the Keex of Jelkim. I was one of about fifty she hired, she liked my part of the piece well enough to give me a little bonus, I was feeling whoooo no pain when this stringman came on to me. Woke up in a Bolodo scout tied down and sick as a… well, sick.” “Any idea where we’re going?” “None. Except we aren’t coming back from it.” “So Xalloor thinks. I expect you’re right. |
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