[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
my arsenal of weaponry buckled up about me, when I was a mere wandering laborer, amused me at the
time. Afterward, well, as they say, no man or woman born of Opaz knows all the secrets of Imrien. I
gave an almighty yawn and covered my mouth, palm out, and said, I crave your pardon, Koter Avandil.
I am for bed. I have had a plaguey day. How did you find me here?
If he thought I shot the last question out a little sharply, he gave no sign.
I heard the commotion and ran up, hoping for a little exercise. It seems I was in time, once again.
And much am I beholden to you, Koter Avandil. What are you going to do with the Fristles?
The landlord will take care of them. Come with me. You cannot stay here now.
This was an eventuality I did not relish. I reached up and touched the bowstave. He nodded, half smiling,
his whiskers fierce.
Yes. I see you have bought yourself a bow with the money you acquired, to go along with your zorca.
You should be careful how you spend your cash. Buying things you cannot use is a dangerous pastime.
Yes, I said with a fine free meekness, adding, koter.
He laughed again, that great booming numim laugh. I warrant the fellow whose throat you slit for the
money wishes he was here to spend it instead of rotting in a ditch.
If you think that, why bother your head over me?
You ask questions, Nath the Gnat, more than is seemly.
I crave your pardon. But the landlord will throw these cramphs out and I can sleep. I kept forgetting,
the more he pestered me, to add the requiredkoter into the conversation.
He saw I meant it when I again refused his invitation, so at last he left. I pondered. One more day, would
that make so much difference? I could go up and see Natyzha Famphreon later, after sleep. Yes, that
would be the answer. I somehow or other did not relish the thought of slipping out the window and
finding Rafik Avandil smiling and waiting below for me.
Had I not sent my comrades away they would have created a diversion. Those Opaz-forsaken Fristles.
But for them I d have been halfway to Natyzha Famphreon s villa by now. So, cussing away in my stupid
fashion, I stripped off the gear and slept.
The sleep was needed and I awoke refreshed before dawn with that old sailor s knack of setting alarm
bells ringing in my skull, echoes of Beng Kishi s Bells. I ordered up a huge breakfast which I demolished
in short order.
The fate of empires hangs on tiny threads.
But for the Fristles I would have been long gone to the racters; but for the state of the haggard old crone
who served the breakfast I would have left at once. Now there is disease on Kregen, as seems to be
inseparable from man and his nature and the state of the universe in which we live. The ordinary ailments
are treated matter-of-factly, and the needleman of Kregen are skilled at relieving pain, even during
surgery, with their cunning twirling needles. I have not so far mentioned the disease which strikes horror
into the heart of a Kregan. It is seldom mentioned in polite conversation, just as once on this Earth cancer
was not a subject for decent conversation. Kregans can confidently look forward to two hundred years
or so of life. Right up until their very last years they do not change much, do not appear to alter. This
disease I will tell you its name just the once this chivrel prematurely ages its victims. Oh, the men
and women stricken down live on. They tend to die around their two hundredth year or before, rather
than living that extra golden autumn, but their appearance and their strengths are those of ancients of
days. This, as you will readily perceive, explains the appearance of old crones and decrepit men in my
narrative of life on Kregen.
The serving woman was old, suffering from that disgusting disease. How it was caught, how transmitted,
no one knew. No cure was known. Whenever I think back to my days on Kregen as I fought for what I
believed was worth fighting for and recall the conversations and the oaths spoken, always I change that
particular curse into a different English equivalent leprous is an example. People were not afraid to live
with the sufferers. Body contact, breathing the same air, none of these things caused the disease.
So instead of flinging my cloak around me and rushing out, I stayed and helped her stack the tray and
lifted it so that she might open the door. I was in the act of closing the door after her, ready to don my
equipment, when the ghostly form of Khe-Hi-Bjanching materialized across the chamber. He stared at
me, peering, as though his trance state of lupu was not perfect. Then his misty body solidified. It seemed
the wizard stood in the chamber with me.
Never had I seen the lupal projection of Phu-si-Yantong spying on me as clearly as I saw Khe-Hi. He
held out a paper. Like an onker I stretched out my hand to take it. My fingers passed through the yellow
paper. I cursed. Khe-Hi pointed. So, a fambly to the end, I looked down and read what he had written.
Famphreon s villa is under observation by the emperor s spies.
As I finished reading, the lupal projection of my Wizard of Loh thinned and wisped and vanished. I
stepped back. By Krun! Was I to be foiled by a pack of miserable imperial spies?
I debated.
A hot gratitude to my friends for their work made me realize that they, having discovered the information
and sending it as fast as they could via wizardly sorcery, would feel poorly rewarded if I simply barged [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl szkicerysunki.xlx.pl
my arsenal of weaponry buckled up about me, when I was a mere wandering laborer, amused me at the
time. Afterward, well, as they say, no man or woman born of Opaz knows all the secrets of Imrien. I
gave an almighty yawn and covered my mouth, palm out, and said, I crave your pardon, Koter Avandil.
I am for bed. I have had a plaguey day. How did you find me here?
If he thought I shot the last question out a little sharply, he gave no sign.
I heard the commotion and ran up, hoping for a little exercise. It seems I was in time, once again.
And much am I beholden to you, Koter Avandil. What are you going to do with the Fristles?
The landlord will take care of them. Come with me. You cannot stay here now.
This was an eventuality I did not relish. I reached up and touched the bowstave. He nodded, half smiling,
his whiskers fierce.
Yes. I see you have bought yourself a bow with the money you acquired, to go along with your zorca.
You should be careful how you spend your cash. Buying things you cannot use is a dangerous pastime.
Yes, I said with a fine free meekness, adding, koter.
He laughed again, that great booming numim laugh. I warrant the fellow whose throat you slit for the
money wishes he was here to spend it instead of rotting in a ditch.
If you think that, why bother your head over me?
You ask questions, Nath the Gnat, more than is seemly.
I crave your pardon. But the landlord will throw these cramphs out and I can sleep. I kept forgetting,
the more he pestered me, to add the requiredkoter into the conversation.
He saw I meant it when I again refused his invitation, so at last he left. I pondered. One more day, would
that make so much difference? I could go up and see Natyzha Famphreon later, after sleep. Yes, that
would be the answer. I somehow or other did not relish the thought of slipping out the window and
finding Rafik Avandil smiling and waiting below for me.
Had I not sent my comrades away they would have created a diversion. Those Opaz-forsaken Fristles.
But for them I d have been halfway to Natyzha Famphreon s villa by now. So, cussing away in my stupid
fashion, I stripped off the gear and slept.
The sleep was needed and I awoke refreshed before dawn with that old sailor s knack of setting alarm
bells ringing in my skull, echoes of Beng Kishi s Bells. I ordered up a huge breakfast which I demolished
in short order.
The fate of empires hangs on tiny threads.
But for the Fristles I would have been long gone to the racters; but for the state of the haggard old crone
who served the breakfast I would have left at once. Now there is disease on Kregen, as seems to be
inseparable from man and his nature and the state of the universe in which we live. The ordinary ailments
are treated matter-of-factly, and the needleman of Kregen are skilled at relieving pain, even during
surgery, with their cunning twirling needles. I have not so far mentioned the disease which strikes horror
into the heart of a Kregan. It is seldom mentioned in polite conversation, just as once on this Earth cancer
was not a subject for decent conversation. Kregans can confidently look forward to two hundred years
or so of life. Right up until their very last years they do not change much, do not appear to alter. This
disease I will tell you its name just the once this chivrel prematurely ages its victims. Oh, the men
and women stricken down live on. They tend to die around their two hundredth year or before, rather
than living that extra golden autumn, but their appearance and their strengths are those of ancients of
days. This, as you will readily perceive, explains the appearance of old crones and decrepit men in my
narrative of life on Kregen.
The serving woman was old, suffering from that disgusting disease. How it was caught, how transmitted,
no one knew. No cure was known. Whenever I think back to my days on Kregen as I fought for what I
believed was worth fighting for and recall the conversations and the oaths spoken, always I change that
particular curse into a different English equivalent leprous is an example. People were not afraid to live
with the sufferers. Body contact, breathing the same air, none of these things caused the disease.
So instead of flinging my cloak around me and rushing out, I stayed and helped her stack the tray and
lifted it so that she might open the door. I was in the act of closing the door after her, ready to don my
equipment, when the ghostly form of Khe-Hi-Bjanching materialized across the chamber. He stared at
me, peering, as though his trance state of lupu was not perfect. Then his misty body solidified. It seemed
the wizard stood in the chamber with me.
Never had I seen the lupal projection of Phu-si-Yantong spying on me as clearly as I saw Khe-Hi. He
held out a paper. Like an onker I stretched out my hand to take it. My fingers passed through the yellow
paper. I cursed. Khe-Hi pointed. So, a fambly to the end, I looked down and read what he had written.
Famphreon s villa is under observation by the emperor s spies.
As I finished reading, the lupal projection of my Wizard of Loh thinned and wisped and vanished. I
stepped back. By Krun! Was I to be foiled by a pack of miserable imperial spies?
I debated.
A hot gratitude to my friends for their work made me realize that they, having discovered the information
and sending it as fast as they could via wizardly sorcery, would feel poorly rewarded if I simply barged [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]