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Pinkus Ghort jogged across the street, dodging between donkeys and camels,
oxcarts, dog carts, and go^t carts. Brothe's streets were busier than those of
al-Qarn. Aijid twice as ripe. Little effort was made to clean up after the
^nimals. Else had seen some amazing shit drifts.
"Ghort! You been following me?"
heading
"No. Shit Man. It's pure coincidence. I was just over to the ... How the
hell are you doing?"
"As good as could be hoped, I guess."
"They get you in over there yet?"
"In?"
"The Bruglioni thing."
Curious. "They don't keep you in the know?"
road that
"I've been out of town. There was a problem up the i Doneto needed handled.
I got back last night. So are you in?"
"I think. I'm worried about how easy it was, though. I can't believe anybody
is as dimwitted as those people let or."
to stay.
"Believe it. This is the town where dumb comes Two-thirds of them still
think they rule the world. Basically, the whole damn town has their heads up
their asses.'
"I'll take your word for that."
"We need to work out a way to communicate."
"I know where the Principate lives."
"How do we get a message to you?"
Else considered briefly. "I can't imagine an instance where you'd need to.
Can you?"
"Uh ... Maybe you're right. But you'll have to make contact sometime. Just
so we can keep each other posted."
Ghort had a point. Ghort was supposed to be his eyss inside Doneto's
establishment. "That shouldn't be hard. I dori't suffer
from excessive supervision. My job hasn't been defined yet. * Paludan wants to
hurt the Brotherhood because he thinks they killed his sons. Gervase is afraid
the Brotherhood might come after the Bruglioni because of what happened to
their men."
Ghort eyed Else's head. "You going to do something about your hair?"
"What? Why? Like what?"
"Half the nasty folks in Brothe are looking for big foreigners with long
blond hair. Two were involved in the debacle you just mentioned. If they get
close and bother to think, they'll know you aren't who they're looking for.
But suppose you run into idiots?"
"Well. Now I know why I keep getting those evil looks."
"Those are probably just because you're you."
"No doubt. I have work to do. I'll see you sometime."
For a moment Ghort looked hurt. "Yeah. Later."
"Say hi to Bo and Joe. And Pig Iron."
"Yeah."
Else got away before Ghort could delay him. Principate Doneto was not going
to be pleased. He had given Ghort very little about the Bruglioni and nothing
about the Arniena.
Let the man stew.
Else wandered aimlessly. Just in case. No point leading Ghort to one of his
contacts. He listened to people. He heard little but everyday arguments,
whining, complaints and indifference to squabbles on high. The politics that
mattered at street level involved next meals. And Colors.
There was a great deal of anticipation of something called the Summer
Invitational Games, when chariot racing teams from throughout Chaldarean
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Firaldia would participate in a huge elimination contest. The Colors would be
out in strength, then.
Else's ramble took him to the south bank of the Teragi River, half a mile
above the place where Father Obilade had been introduced to the Sacred Flood.
In pre-Chaldarean times die river had been considered a goddess in its own
right, harboring within her bosom a host of spirits, some quite wicked, all of
which had to be appeased. The goddess was gone, now, but not so all of the
dark sprites and nymphs and water horses who had attended her.
The Brothen ancients had done well, coming to terms with the
Instrumentalities of die Night. The entire waterfront had
been built up in a way that revealed ages of complete confidence that the
river would not get out of control. Embankments constructed of huge blocks of
dressed stone rose high enough that the water level could rise another
twenty-five feet before there was a need to worry.
Else strolled downriver, along the top of the embankment,
admiring the work of the ancient engineers. He was confident
today's Brothens couldn't manage anything like this, if only
for lack of will and energy. He had sensed a paucity of those
commodities in die modern tribe. I [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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