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The Colour of Magic :: Пратчетт Терри
Страница: 9 из 150Wa looked at the man leaning back in his chair, his black-clad frame resting as nonchalantly as a Rimland puma on a jungle branch, and decided that Gorrin atop Small Gods temple would soonbe joining those little deities in the multifold dimensions of Beyond. And he owed Wa three copper pieces.
Ymor crumpled the note and tossed it into a corner. “I think we’ll wander along to the Drum later on, Withel. Perhaps, too, we may try this beer that your men find so tempting.”
Withel said nothing. Being Ymor’s right-hand man was like being gently flogged to death with scented bootlaces.
The twin city of Ankh-Morpork, foremost of all the cities bounding the Circle Sea, was as a matter of course the home of a large number of gangs, thieves’ guilds, syndicates and similar organisations. This was one of the reasons for its wealth. Most of the humbler folk on the widdershin side of the river, in Morpork’s mazy alleys, supplemented their meagre incomes by filling some small role for one or other of the competing gangs. So it was that by the time Hugh and Twoflower entered the courtyard of the Broken Drum the leaders of a number of them were aware that someone had arrived in the city who appeared to have much treasure. Some reports from the more observant spies included details about a book that told the stranger what to say, and a box that walked by itself. These facts were immediately discounted. No magician capable of such enchantments ever came within a mile of Morpork docks.
It still being that hour when most of the city was just rising or about to go to bed there were few people in the Drum to watch Twoflower descend the stairs. When the Luggage appeared behind him and started to lurch confidently down the steps the customers at the rough wooden tables, as one man, looked suspiciously at their drinks.
Broadman was browbeating the small troll who swept the bar when the trio walked past him. “What in hell’s that?” he said.
“Just don’t talk about it,” hissed Hugh. Twoflower was already thumbing through his book.
“What’s he doing?” said Broadman, arms akimbo.
“It tells him what to say. I know it sounds ridiculous,” muttered Hugh.
“How can a book tell a man what to say?”
“I wish for an accommodation, a room, lodgings, the lodging house, full board, are your rooms clean, a room with a view, what is your rate for one night?” said Twoflower in one breath.
Broadman looked at Hugh. The beggar shrugged.
“He’s got plenty money,” he said.
“Tell him it’s three copper pieces, then. And that thing will have to go in the stable.”
“?” said the stranger.
Ymor crumpled the note and tossed it into a corner. “I think we’ll wander along to the Drum later on, Withel. Perhaps, too, we may try this beer that your men find so tempting.”
Withel said nothing. Being Ymor’s right-hand man was like being gently flogged to death with scented bootlaces.
The twin city of Ankh-Morpork, foremost of all the cities bounding the Circle Sea, was as a matter of course the home of a large number of gangs, thieves’ guilds, syndicates and similar organisations. This was one of the reasons for its wealth. Most of the humbler folk on the widdershin side of the river, in Morpork’s mazy alleys, supplemented their meagre incomes by filling some small role for one or other of the competing gangs. So it was that by the time Hugh and Twoflower entered the courtyard of the Broken Drum the leaders of a number of them were aware that someone had arrived in the city who appeared to have much treasure. Some reports from the more observant spies included details about a book that told the stranger what to say, and a box that walked by itself. These facts were immediately discounted. No magician capable of such enchantments ever came within a mile of Morpork docks.
It still being that hour when most of the city was just rising or about to go to bed there were few people in the Drum to watch Twoflower descend the stairs. When the Luggage appeared behind him and started to lurch confidently down the steps the customers at the rough wooden tables, as one man, looked suspiciously at their drinks.
Broadman was browbeating the small troll who swept the bar when the trio walked past him. “What in hell’s that?” he said.
“Just don’t talk about it,” hissed Hugh. Twoflower was already thumbing through his book.
“What’s he doing?” said Broadman, arms akimbo.
“It tells him what to say. I know it sounds ridiculous,” muttered Hugh.
“How can a book tell a man what to say?”
“I wish for an accommodation, a room, lodgings, the lodging house, full board, are your rooms clean, a room with a view, what is your rate for one night?” said Twoflower in one breath.
Broadman looked at Hugh. The beggar shrugged.
“He’s got plenty money,” he said.
“Tell him it’s three copper pieces, then. And that thing will have to go in the stable.”
“?” said the stranger.