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The Colour of Magic :: Пратчетт Терри
Страница: 129 из 150They did not appear to be armed, but as Twoflower and Rincewind stumbled on to the parapet they were each grabbed by the arms and held quitefirmly enough for any thought of escape to be instantly dismissed.
Then Marchesa and the watching hydrophobic wizards were quickly left behind and the guards and their prisoners set off briskly along a lane that wound between the ship-houses. Soon it lead downwards, into what turned out to be a palace of some sort, half-hewn out of the rock of the cliff itself. Rincewind was vaguely aware of brightly-lit tunnels, and courtyards open to the distant sky. A few elderly men, their robes covered in mysterious occult symbols, stood aside and watched with interest as the sextet passed. Several times Rincewind noticed hydrophobes—their ingrained expressions of self-revulsion at their own body-fluids was distinctive—and here and there trudging men who could only be slaves. He didn’t have much time to reflect on all this before a door was opened ahead of them and they were pushed, gently but firmly, into a room. Then the door slammed behind them.
Rincewind and Twoflower regained their balance and stared around the room in which they now found themselves.
“Gosh,” said Twoflower ineffectually, after a pause during which he had tried unsuccessfully to find a better word.
“This is a prison cell?” wondered Rincewind aloud.
“All that gold and silk and stuff,” Twoflower added. “I’ve never seen anything like it!”
In the centre of the richly decorated room, on a carpet that was so deep and furry that Rincewind trod on it gingerly lest it be some kind of shaggy, floor-loving beast, was a long gleaming table laden with food. Most were fish dishes, including the biggest and most ornately-prepared lobster Rincewind had ever seen, but there were also plenty of bowls and platters piled with strange creations that he had never seen before. He reached out cautiously and picked up some sort of purple fruit crusted with green crystals.
“Candied sea urchin,” said a cracked, cheerful voice behind him. “A great delicacy.”
He dropped it quickly and turned around. An old man had stepped out from behind the heavy curtains. He was tall, thin and looked almost benign compared to some of the faces Rincewind had seen recently.
“The puree of sea cucumbers is very good too,” said the face, conversationally. “Those little green bits are baby starfish.”
“Thank you for telling me,” said Rincewind weakly.
“Actually, they’re rather good,” said Twoflower, his mouth full. “I thought you liked seafood?”
“Yes, I thought I did,” said Rincewind.
Then Marchesa and the watching hydrophobic wizards were quickly left behind and the guards and their prisoners set off briskly along a lane that wound between the ship-houses. Soon it lead downwards, into what turned out to be a palace of some sort, half-hewn out of the rock of the cliff itself. Rincewind was vaguely aware of brightly-lit tunnels, and courtyards open to the distant sky. A few elderly men, their robes covered in mysterious occult symbols, stood aside and watched with interest as the sextet passed. Several times Rincewind noticed hydrophobes—their ingrained expressions of self-revulsion at their own body-fluids was distinctive—and here and there trudging men who could only be slaves. He didn’t have much time to reflect on all this before a door was opened ahead of them and they were pushed, gently but firmly, into a room. Then the door slammed behind them.
Rincewind and Twoflower regained their balance and stared around the room in which they now found themselves.
“Gosh,” said Twoflower ineffectually, after a pause during which he had tried unsuccessfully to find a better word.
“This is a prison cell?” wondered Rincewind aloud.
“All that gold and silk and stuff,” Twoflower added. “I’ve never seen anything like it!”
In the centre of the richly decorated room, on a carpet that was so deep and furry that Rincewind trod on it gingerly lest it be some kind of shaggy, floor-loving beast, was a long gleaming table laden with food. Most were fish dishes, including the biggest and most ornately-prepared lobster Rincewind had ever seen, but there were also plenty of bowls and platters piled with strange creations that he had never seen before. He reached out cautiously and picked up some sort of purple fruit crusted with green crystals.
“Candied sea urchin,” said a cracked, cheerful voice behind him. “A great delicacy.”
He dropped it quickly and turned around. An old man had stepped out from behind the heavy curtains. He was tall, thin and looked almost benign compared to some of the faces Rincewind had seen recently.
“The puree of sea cucumbers is very good too,” said the face, conversationally. “Those little green bits are baby starfish.”
“Thank you for telling me,” said Rincewind weakly.
“Actually, they’re rather good,” said Twoflower, his mouth full. “I thought you liked seafood?”
“Yes, I thought I did,” said Rincewind.