"Charles Stross - Examination Night" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stross Charles)

share a table with me, the landlord will see to our provision while we discuss those matters
you would quiz me upon. However, I think it would be best if you waited for a while before you
tax my head overmuch; it's ringing like a bell and my hands are still shaking."
Anya nodded, then turned and retreated to a shadowy table in a nook at the very
back of the tavern. Sebastian followed her, still shaky, beginning to wonder just what this
maid – no, this un-woman killer bitch of Tigre – wanted. Oh yes. He'd heard about wandering
women and what they did to men who crossed them any way but one. He thought fuzzily: it's
a tough life being a wife and mother, but that's no excuse for brigandage.
The table Anya selected was strangely empty, and the bag of possessions she had
left there was still untouched despite the raucous congregation of orc-browed night-soil
attendants who hooted and gambled with manic intensity at the next table. She sat down
beside her baggage and smiled gratefully as the cobbler's daughter planted a jug of wine and
two tankards on the table. The barmaid looked round, saw Sebastian coming, and her eyes
widened: her ears flushed a hot coral pink as she picked up her skirts and fled for the
sanctuary of the cellar. Sebastian sat down and shook his head in disappointment, charting
her progress with resentful eyes. Whorespawn bitch-cow ballock-ripper ... "I didn't mean it but
for fun," he said unconsciously, "how was I to know the silly strumpet was still a maiden?"
"You should be more prudent." Anya's expression was neutral as she poured the
dark wine into each tankard and pushed one towards him. Her sobriety was nevertheless
clear: she didn't spill a drop. "If you dishonour her further in the eyes of her family, you might
find more than just a debt of dowry to restore this time. Someday you will meet a victim with
teeth, young fox; then where will you be, eh?"
He looked up and met her gaze. There was no mistaking what he saw in it. "What do
you want of me?" he asked, his throat suddenly as dry as any desert. "I'm just a humble
student, about to be sent down by his betters for refusing to take the baccalaureate. How can
I serve you, and in what way can I offer the hospitality of my lord Vargas to your honour?"
Anya took a long draught of sack and smacked her lips in a most un-ladylike manner,
then placed her tankard on the table and carefully scanned the tavern. "If I choose to bind you
to my purposes, you will stand as little chance as an imp-spawn before your master's wrath.
But it's not proper that an agent of those I serve should behave in such a manner, so –" she
made a small gesture of irritation, flicking imaginary reins away from herself, and Sebastian
shivered. Then she pushed the lace cuff of her left sleeve up her arm, brazenly presenting the
back of her wrist to him. "Consider yourself honoured," she said drily. "The Invigilation rarely
concerns itself with those who merely study the daemonic."
Sebastian's pulse hammered and his vision grew dim. She's one of THEM! His knees
turned to jelly and his skin shrivelled before the heat of an invisible sun: his eyes were ready
to melt in his head and his ears sang a song of guilt. The Invigilation! But Anya of Tigre, if that
was really her name, seemed not to notice the effect she was having on him. "I would like you
to tell me precisely why you refused to take the Examination," she said, then took another
draught of wine. "After that I want you to take me to see your master. Come, scholar, there is
little time."
But Sebastian was unable to control himself; he nearly bit his tongue as he stuttered
in dismay, "But why? Why now? Why me? What's wrong! What have we done to offend your
honour ..."
"Nothing: at least not as yet," she said. "But the hour has arrived and I am here on an
official investigation decreed by the Ministry of Lost Souls. If you do not help in my
investigations it will be necessary to compel you. So talk, young man. Time is short, and the
Invigilation requires your cooperation in its enquiries."
Mopping the cold sweat from his brow, Sebastian cleared his throat and began to
recite his tale. The story was a lengthy one and full of digressions, but Anya made no attempt