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The Colour of Magic :: Пратчетт Терри
Страница: 42 из 150“So how did the Drum catch fire?”
“I don’t know,” moaned Twoflower. “it’s terrible, Rincewind. We were getting along so well, too.”
Rincewind stopped in astonishment, so that another refugee cannoned into him and spun away with an oath.
“Getting on?”
“Yes, a great bunch of fellows, I thought language was a bit of a problem, but they were so keen for me to join their party, they just wouldn’t take no for an answer—really friendly people, I thought…”
Rincewind started to correct him, then realised he didn’t know how to begin.
“It’ll be a blow for old Broadman,” Twoflower continued. “Still, he was wise. I’ve still got the rhinu he paid as his first premium.”
Rincewind didn’t know the meaning of the word premium, but his mind was working fast.
“You inn-sewered the Drum?” he said. “You bet Broadman it wouldn’t catch fire?”
“Oh yes. Standard valuation. Two hundred rhinu, Why do you ask?”
Rincewind turned and stared at the flames racing towards them, and wondered how much of Ankh Morpork could be bought for two hundred rhinu. Quite a large piece, he decided. Only not now, not the way those flames were moving… He glanced down at the tourist.
“You—” he began, and searched his memory for the worst word in the Trob tongue; the happy little beTrobi didn’t really know how to swear properly.
“You,” he repeated. Another hurrying figure bumped into him, narrowly missing him with the blade over its shoulder. Rincewind’s tortured temper exploded.
“You little (such a one who, while wearing a copper nose ring, stands in a footbath atop Mount Raruaruaha during a heavy thunderstorm and shouts that Alohura, Goddess of Lightning, has the facial features of a diseased uloruaha root!)”
Just doing my job , said the figure, stalking off.
Every word fell as heavily as slabs of marble; moreover, Rincewind was certain that he was the only one who heard them.
He grabbed Twoflower again.
“Let’s get out of here!” he suggested.
One interesting side effect of the fire in Ankh-Morpork concerns the inn-sewer-ants policy, which left the city through the ravaged roof of the Broken Drum, was wafted high into the Discworld’s atmosphere on the ensuing thermal, and came to earth several days and a few thousand miles away on an uloruaha bush in the beTrobi islands. The simple, laughing islanders subsequently worshipped it as a god, much to the amusement of their more sophisticated neighbours.
“I don’t know,” moaned Twoflower. “it’s terrible, Rincewind. We were getting along so well, too.”
Rincewind stopped in astonishment, so that another refugee cannoned into him and spun away with an oath.
“Getting on?”
“Yes, a great bunch of fellows, I thought language was a bit of a problem, but they were so keen for me to join their party, they just wouldn’t take no for an answer—really friendly people, I thought…”
Rincewind started to correct him, then realised he didn’t know how to begin.
“It’ll be a blow for old Broadman,” Twoflower continued. “Still, he was wise. I’ve still got the rhinu he paid as his first premium.”
Rincewind didn’t know the meaning of the word premium, but his mind was working fast.
“You inn-sewered the Drum?” he said. “You bet Broadman it wouldn’t catch fire?”
“Oh yes. Standard valuation. Two hundred rhinu, Why do you ask?”
Rincewind turned and stared at the flames racing towards them, and wondered how much of Ankh Morpork could be bought for two hundred rhinu. Quite a large piece, he decided. Only not now, not the way those flames were moving… He glanced down at the tourist.
“You—” he began, and searched his memory for the worst word in the Trob tongue; the happy little beTrobi didn’t really know how to swear properly.
“You,” he repeated. Another hurrying figure bumped into him, narrowly missing him with the blade over its shoulder. Rincewind’s tortured temper exploded.
“You little (such a one who, while wearing a copper nose ring, stands in a footbath atop Mount Raruaruaha during a heavy thunderstorm and shouts that Alohura, Goddess of Lightning, has the facial features of a diseased uloruaha root!)”
Just doing my job , said the figure, stalking off.
Every word fell as heavily as slabs of marble; moreover, Rincewind was certain that he was the only one who heard them.
He grabbed Twoflower again.
“Let’s get out of here!” he suggested.
One interesting side effect of the fire in Ankh-Morpork concerns the inn-sewer-ants policy, which left the city through the ravaged roof of the Broken Drum, was wafted high into the Discworld’s atmosphere on the ensuing thermal, and came to earth several days and a few thousand miles away on an uloruaha bush in the beTrobi islands. The simple, laughing islanders subsequently worshipped it as a god, much to the amusement of their more sophisticated neighbours.