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The Colour of Magic :: Пратчетт Терри
Страница: 20 из 150For a moment greed overcame caution, and he reached out gingerly… but what was the use? He’d never live to enjoy it. Reluctantly he drew his hand back, and was surprised to see a slight tremor in the chest’s open lid. Hadn’t it shifted slightly, as though rocked by the wind?
Rincewind looked at his fingers, and then at the lid. It looked heavy, and was bound with brass bands. It was quite still now. What wind?
“Rincewind!”
Twoflower sprang off the bed. The wizard jumped back, wrenching his features into a smile.
“My dear chap, right on time! We’ll just have lunch, and then I’m sure you’ve got a wonderful programme lined up for this afternoon.”
“That’s great,” Rincewind took a deep breath. “look,” he said desperately, “let’s eat somewhere else. There’s been a bit of a fight down below.
“A tavern brawl? Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“Well, you see, I—what?”
“I thought I made myself clear this morning, Rincewind. I want to see genuine Morporkian life-the slave market, the Whore Pits, the Temple of Small Gods, the Beggars’ Guild… and a genuine tavern brawl.” A faint note of suspicion entered Twoflower’s voice. “You do have them, don’t you? You know, people swinging on chandeliers, swordfights over the table, the sort of thing Hrun the Barbarian and the Weasel are always getting involved in. You know—excitement.”
Rincewind sat down heavily on the bed.
“You want to see a fight?” he said.
“Yes. What’s wrong with that?”
“For a start, people get hurt.”
“Oh, I wasn’t suggesting we get involved. I just want to see one, that’s all. And some of your famous heroes. You do have some, don’t you? It’s not all dockside talk?” And now, to the wizard’s astonishment, Twoflower was almost pleading.
“Oh, yeah. We have them all right,” said Rincewind hurriedly. He pictured them in his mind, and recoiled from the thought.
All the heroes of the Circle Sea passed through the gates of Ankh-Morpork sooner or later. Most of them were from the barbaric tribes nearer the frozen Hub, which had a sort of export trade in heroes Almost all of them had crude magic swords, whose unsuppressed harmonics on the astral plane played hell with any delicate experiments in applied sorcery for miles around, but Rincewind didn’t object to them on that score.
Rincewind looked at his fingers, and then at the lid. It looked heavy, and was bound with brass bands. It was quite still now. What wind?
“Rincewind!”
Twoflower sprang off the bed. The wizard jumped back, wrenching his features into a smile.
“My dear chap, right on time! We’ll just have lunch, and then I’m sure you’ve got a wonderful programme lined up for this afternoon.”
“That’s great,” Rincewind took a deep breath. “look,” he said desperately, “let’s eat somewhere else. There’s been a bit of a fight down below.
“A tavern brawl? Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“Well, you see, I—what?”
“I thought I made myself clear this morning, Rincewind. I want to see genuine Morporkian life-the slave market, the Whore Pits, the Temple of Small Gods, the Beggars’ Guild… and a genuine tavern brawl.” A faint note of suspicion entered Twoflower’s voice. “You do have them, don’t you? You know, people swinging on chandeliers, swordfights over the table, the sort of thing Hrun the Barbarian and the Weasel are always getting involved in. You know—excitement.”
Rincewind sat down heavily on the bed.
“You want to see a fight?” he said.
“Yes. What’s wrong with that?”
“For a start, people get hurt.”
“Oh, I wasn’t suggesting we get involved. I just want to see one, that’s all. And some of your famous heroes. You do have some, don’t you? It’s not all dockside talk?” And now, to the wizard’s astonishment, Twoflower was almost pleading.
“Oh, yeah. We have them all right,” said Rincewind hurriedly. He pictured them in his mind, and recoiled from the thought.
All the heroes of the Circle Sea passed through the gates of Ankh-Morpork sooner or later. Most of them were from the barbaric tribes nearer the frozen Hub, which had a sort of export trade in heroes Almost all of them had crude magic swords, whose unsuppressed harmonics on the astral plane played hell with any delicate experiments in applied sorcery for miles around, but Rincewind didn’t object to them on that score.