"Vance, Jack - Alastor 2 - Trullion-2262" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vance Jack)

attention and looked up at the dim house. "Your dear mother is away from home?" "I don't know
where she is, but come drink a pot or two of wine." Akadie made an acquiescent gesture. The two
walked up the dock toward the house. Akadie glanced toward Rabend-ary Forest, where the Drosset's
fire showed as a flickering orange spark. "The Trevanyi are still on hand, I notice." "They leave
tomorrow." Akadie nodded sagely. "The girl is charming but fey-that is to say, burdened with a
weight of destiny. I wonder for whom she carries her message."
Glinnes lofted his eyebrows; he had not thought of Duis-sane in so dire a connection, and
Akadie's remark struck reverberations within him. "As you say, she seems an extraordinary person."
Akadie settled into one of the old string chairs on the verandah. Glinnes brought out wine, cheese
and nuts, and they sat back to watch the wan colors of the Trullion sunset. "I take it you are
home on leave?" "No. I've left the Whelm. I now seem to be Squire of Ra-bendary-unless Shira
returns, which no one considers likely." "Two months is indeed an ominous period," said Akadie,
somewhat sententiously. "What do you think became of him?"
Akadie sipped his wine. "I know no more than you, in spite of my reputation." "Quite bluntly, I
find the situation incomprehensible," said Glinnes. "Why did Glay sell Ambal? I can't understand
it; he'll neither explain nor give back the money so that I can void the contract. I never
expected to find so troublesome a situation. What is your opinion on all this?"
Akadie placed his mug delicately upon the table. "Are you consulting me professionally? It might
well be money wasted, since, offhand, I see no remedy for your difficulties." Glinnes heaved a
patient sigh; here again: the Akadie with whom he never quite knew how to deal. He said, "If you
can make yourself useful, I'll pay you." And he had the satisfaction of seeing Akadie purse his
lips. Akadie arranged his thoughts. "Hmmf. Naturally I can't charge you for casual gossip. I
must make myself useful, as you put it. Sometimes the distinction between social grace and
professional help is narrow. I suggest that we put this occasion on one basis or another." "You
can call it a consultation," said Glinnes, "since the matter has come to rest on these terms."
"Very well. What do you wish to consult about?" "The general situation. I want to get a grip on
affairs, but I'm working in the dark. First of all: Ambal Isle, which Glay had no right to sell."
"No problem here. Return the payment and void the contract." "Glay won't give me the money, and
I don't have twelve thousand ozols of my own." "A difficult situation," agreed Akadie. "Shira, of
course, refused to sell. The deal was made only after his disappearance." "Hmmm What are you

suggesting?" "Nothing whatever. I'm supplying facts from which you can draw whatever inferences
you like." "Who is Lute Casagave?" "I don't know. Superficially he seems a gentleman of quiet
tastes, who takes an amateur's interest in local genealogy. He's compiling a conspectus of the
local nobility, or so he tells me. His motives might well be other than pure scholarship, it goes
without saying. Might he be trying to establish a claim upon one or another of the local titles?
If so, interesting events will be forthcoming, Hmm. What else do I know of the mysterious Lute
Casagave? He claims to be a Bole from Ellet, which is Alastor 485, as you're no doubt aware. I
have my doubts." "How so?"
"I am an observant man, as you know. After my little lunch at his manor, I consulted my
references. I found that, oddly enough, the great majority of Boles are left-handed. Casagave is
right-handed. Most Boles are devoutly religious and their place of perdition is the Black Ocean at
the South Pole of Ellent; submarine creatures house the souls of the damned. On Ellent, to eat wet
food is to encompass within oneself a clutch of vile influences. No Bole eats fish. Yet Lute
Casagave quite placidly enjoyed a stew of sea-spider, and afterward a fine grilled duck-fish, no
less than I. Is Lute Casagave a Bole?" Akadie held out his hands. "I don't know." "But why should
he pretend to a false identity? Unless-…"
"Exactly. Still, the explanation may be quite ordinary. Perhaps he is an emancipated Bole. Oversubtlety
is an error as gross as innocence." "No doubt. Well, this to the side. I still can't
give him his money because Glay won't return it. Do you know where it is? "I do." Akadie darted a