"Andre Norton - Moon Singer 1 - Moon of Three Rings" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

level with their second guildsmen and by rights would have had to stand
in the outer aisles, save that we each bore, with a great deal of show,
counting boards. These served the double duty of getting us inside with
our officers, and impressing the native population that off-worlders were
rather stupid and needed such aids for reckoning—always a beginning
move in shrewd bargaining. We therefore squatted at the foot of the
high-seat platform and took ostentatious notes of all the exhibits
displayed and praised in the offering.

There were some furs from the north, a deep rich red with a ripple of
golden light crossing them as they were turned in the hands of the
merchant showing them. Fabrics were brought out by the bolt and draped
over small racks put up by subordinates. There was a great deal of
metalwork, mostly in the form of weapons. Swords and spears appear to
be a universal primitive armament in the galaxy, and these were
undoubtedly forged by masters who knew their art. There was chainlink
armor for the body, helmets, some of them crested with miniature beasts
or feathered birds, and shields. And then a last merchant came up with
the air of one about to top the show of war materials. Two of his
guildsmen exhibited shooting at a mark with a new type of crossbow
which, from the stir his demonstration provoked, must have been a vast
improvement over the usual.

The arms display, which was a very large item in the local market, was
more or less of a bore for us. Of course now and then one picked up a
sword or dagger to sell to some collector. But that was the smallest of
private ventures.

It was a long session. The Yiktorians broke it once for refreshments,
passing around tankards of their bitter, and to us undrinkable, ale and a
"hasty meal" made of a fruit-and-meat paste between flat grain cakes. But
it was near to sunset before we were dismissed. By custom Captain Foss
and Lidj were to go on to the official banquet given by the fair authorities,
but we second men would return to our ships. The junior representative of
the Combine Duffoldan who had been sharing the same uncomfortable
board seat with me at the platform foot, stretched and grinned after he
slammed his note board between his middle and his belt for safekeeping.

"Well, that's safely over," he said, stating the obvious. "You free to port
crawl?"

Usually Free Traders and Combine men do not mix. There was too
much trouble in the past history we share, though nowadays things are
better policed than they used to be. The League has a weighty hand and
the Combine leaders no longer try to elbow out a Trader who can call upon
such support. In the old days a one-ship Trader had no hope of fighting
back. But the feelings and memories stemming from those times still kept
us apart, so I was no more cordial than mere civility when I answered. .

"Not yet. Not until after report."