Boys of the Zodiac 07 Libra Outlined in Ink Vivien Dean [AQ MM] (pdf)
Annie Dean Bonnie Dee Dionne Galace Boundless [ Anthology ](Liqu
Dean Cameron Candace Steele 01 PÄšâomienne Pragnienie (nieof.)
Alan Burt Akers [Dray Prescot 08] Fliers of Antares (pdf)
Alan Burt Akers [Dray Prescot 10] Avengers of Antares (pdf)
Diana Palmer Denim and Lace as Diana Blayne
ASEM 51 instrukcja obsśÂugi
Ellis Lucy NeapolitaśÂskie noce
Crowe Evelyn Tak trudno zapomniećÂ
3. Cud w Milagro
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
number of participants he would have more opportunities between throws to
study the play. No one objeeted to or commented on his joining. It was simply
a matter of taking the place of a distraught lynx when the latter ran out of
money and dropped out.
Through no particular skill (the fickleness of dice being everywhere constant)
he did quite well. Dutifully, he concentrated on doing still better. So intent
on the game did he become that he failed to notice that he was drawing
something of a crowd of onlookers.
Players angrily left and were replaced by eager newcomers, full of fresh
spirit and fresh cash. There were always nine or ten throwers seated or
squatting around the circle.
The rock was cold against his backside, even through the leather pants. Not
quite as chilled were the well-traveled coins beginning to stack up in front
of him. For the first time in a long while he was not only relaxed but
enjoying himself.
Page 62
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Much to the delight of the crowd, which always pulls for a big winner, he hit
two nines in a row. Mutterings of magic came from a few of the other players.
They remained mere mutterings. An aged bat named Swal hung himself from the
overhead lamps. From there he could watch all the players. His opinion was
well respected, Jon-Tom could tell, and his knowledge of magic extensive
though he was no wizard himself. Very poor basketball players can make very
fine coaches.
Swal had a detailed knowledge of magic though he couldn't work any himself.
Nevertheless, one of the other players tried to turn the tide in his own
favor, attempting to magic the dice before his turn to throw came up. Neither
Jon-Tom nor any of the other players or onlookers caught the unnatural
vibration, but the outraged Swal noticed it immediately.
"He muttered it softly, but I tasted the end of it," Swal explained to the
crowd.
At that point Jon-Tom had a sampling of thieves' justice in a world where
normal justice was not known for its temperance. A group of angry spectators
hauled the screaming, protesting gopher out of sight. This was followed by a
brief pause, then a single nerve-twisting screech. Wiping their paws and
looking grimly satisfied, the vigilantes soon returned.
Another member of the game was throwing, and Jon-Tom had time to turn and ask
an onlooker what had happened.
file:///F|/rah/Alan%20Dean%20Foster/Foster,%20...n%20-%20Spellsinger%2001%20-%
20Spellsinger.txt (55 of 152) [6/30/03 11:56:35 PM]
file:///F|/rah/Alan%20Dean%20Foster/Foster,%20Alan%20Dean%20-%20Spellsinger%20
01%20-%20Spellsinger.txt
The tall rabbit leaned low on his shoulder. "Swal say that one mutter it
softly.
You no cheat in Thieves' Hall. Like cheat you brother, you know? I expect they
make punishment fit the crime." Jon-Tom continued to stare questioningly up at
the other.
The rabbit shrugged. "Since he whisper the formula, others probably cut out
his tongue. If he done divinations with his hands, they would have cut them
off.
Same for eye, and so on."
"Isn't that kind of extreme? It's only a friendly game."
Oddly milky pink eyes looked down at him. "This an extreme business we all in,
man. You know that. Difficult enough to get by without having to cope with
cheating courts and sly lawyers. We can't stand backstabbingers among own
family. Fair punishments like that," and he jerked a thumb back toward the
region of the scream, "make sure fairness good sense. You stay healthy, hear;
that one was lucky. What line you in?"
"Sorry... my dice," Jon-Tom said quickly.
The game continued. Sometimes he lost, more often he won. Now the continued
absence of Talea and Mudge was making him nervous. He wondered if he dare take
his winnings and drop out. Might not one of the game's big losers have a
friend or associate in the crowd, ready to stick a small knife in Jon-Tom's
back or accuse him of magic in order to protect his friend or boss?
But the tall rabbit remained close by, reassuring and urging him on. That was
only natural, since he was betting along with Jon-Tom's rolls. Yet Jon-Tom's
thoughts kept returning to that horrible scream, kept imagining the knife
coming down, the blood spurting....
Swal the bat kept his post. Occasionally he would shift his perch on the
hanging lamps or tug at the green-feathered cap secured by a strap to his
head. His eyes roved steadily over the players.
There were no more cries of cheating. The pile of coins in front of Jon-Tom
continued its steady growth.
Then there was an unexpected pause in the action. A very sleek, lupine figure
stumbled into the playing circle. The players scrambled to protect their coins
Page 63
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
from uncertain feet. She seemed outraged and embarrassed, a condition not
helped by the catcalls and hoots from the male and female spectators. The
bitch replied to the insinuations with a rustle of petticoats and some choice
execrations of her own.
Jon-Tom looked to his rabbit friend for an explanation.
"Sorry, man. I wasn't paying attention. But I think I see what's going on. See
that fox over there?" He pointed to a tired but well-dressed thrower seated
across the circle. Only two or three small silver coins lay on the stone in
front of him.
"He out of money I see, but he want to stay in. You know the type. So he bet
the girl."
Jon-Tom frowned. "Is she a slave?"
That prompted a mildly angry response. "What you think we are here,
barbarians?
Only the Plated Folk keep slaves. No, most likely he gotten her to agree to
temporary contract." The rabbit winked. "Most likely a couple of nights or
so."
"She doesn't look very willing," said Jon-Tom critically.
"Hard to say. Maybe she is, maybe not."
"Then why is she doing it?"
"Because she in love. Can't you see that?" The rabbit sounded surprised at
Jon-Tom's evident naivete.
"Hey... I can't play this round."
"Why not, man?" Suddenly the rabbit sounded considerably less friendly.
"I just think I've had enough." He was starting to gather up his winnings,
looking for pockets in pants and shirt to shove handfuls of coins into. The
other players looked upset and there were some movements in his direction.
But there was honor among thieves here, too. For every angry grumbling from
the players there were cries from the onlookers of, "He won fair.... The man
can pull out any time!... Let him leave if he wants.... You can't stop
him...." and so forth. But some of the comments were accompanied by eager
looks at the pile of coins in front of him. It occurred to Jon-Tom that
winning the money was no
file:///F|/rah/Alan%20Dean%20Foster/Foster,%20...n%20-%20Spellsinger%2001%20-% [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
