"Feist, Raymond E - The Riftwar Legacy 02 - Krondor- The Assassins" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)

19 distrust of those outside the Guild and fear of one another. Strength
or wit earned one a place in the Brotherhood of Thieves.

But occasionally a friendship was struck, a bond deeper than common
need, and those few friends were worth a bit more risk. Limm counted
fewer than a handful of people for whom he would take any risk, let
alone at such a high price should he be caught, but two of them were in
need now, and had to be told of the rumor.

Something moved in the darkness ahead and Limm froze. He waited,
listening for anything out of the ordinary. The sewer was far from
silent, with a constant background noise made up of the distant rumble
of water rushing through the large culvert below that took the city s
refuse out past the harbor mouth, a thousand drips, the scrabble of rats
and other vermin and their squeaky challenges.

Wishing he had a light of any sort, Limm waited. Patience in one his age
was rare outside the Mockers, but a rash thief was a dead thief. Limm
earned his keep in the Mockers by being among the most adroit
pickpockets in Krondor, and his ability to calmly move among the throng
in the market or down the busy streets without attracting attention had
set him high in the leadership s estimation. Most boys his age were
still working the streets in packs, urchins who provided distraction
while other Mockers lifted goods from carts, or deflected attention from
a fleeing thief.

Limm s patience was rewarded, as the faint echo of a boot moving on
stone reached him. A short distance ahead, two large culverts joined in
a wade. He would have to cross through the slowly-flowing sewage to
reach the other side.

It was a good place to wait, thought the boy thief. The sound

20 of him moving through the water would alert anyone nearby and they d
be on him like hounds on a hare.

Limm considered his options. There was no way around that intersection.
He could return the way he came, but that would cost him hours of moving
through the dangerous sewers under the city. He could avoid crossing the
transverse sewer by skirting around the corner, hugging the wall to
avoid being seen, and moving down that passage to his right. He would
have to trust that darkness would shelter him and he could remain silent
enough to avoid detection. Once away from the intersection, he could be
safely on his way.

Limm crept along, gingerly placing one foot ahead of the other, so as to
not dislodge anything or step on an object that might betray his
whereabouts. Fighting the impulse to hurry, he kept his breathing under
control and willed himself to keep moving.