"Lawrence Watt-Evans - Ethshar 2 - With a Single Spell" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watt-Evans Lawrence)

brothels, although they also had signboards, were distinguished by balconies
above the doors, where comely young women, and sometimes young men as well,
leaned over railings, occasionally calling suggestions to potential customers.
They wore attire not quite like anything Tobas had seen before, tunics cut low
across the breast, skirts that clung to the hip enticingly, hems cut at a
slant to display one ankle, all of expensive-looking fabrics, soft and shiny,
or filmy, or glittering with golden threads.
Telven had no brothels. Although Tobas had heard that Shan on the Sea had
half a dozen, he had never come across them in his few brief visits there. He
had never given such establishments much thought before, but here they were
hard for a newcomer like himself to ignore. Some of the women were very
tempting, but of course he had no money.
He noticed, also, that some of the women were older, than they had
appeared at first glance and that no customers were to be seen going in or
out; business was obviously not good.
By the time Tobas paused to consider his destination, he had lost sight
of everyone he knew from aboard ship. Overawed as he was by the city's
unfamiliarity, he could not bring himself to ask passing strangers for advice.
Even strangers were in fairly short supply; this was obviously not a thriving
neighborhood. Most of the spaces at the docks were unoccupied, and maintenance
of the port facilities was clearly not what it should be. He wondered whether
the actions of privateers back in the Free Lands had anything to do with the
empty slips and shuttered shops, had trade suffered that much from their
depredations?
He shivered. If the pirates were to blame and anyone here recognized him
as a Freelander, his life would probably be short and unpleasant.
He considered going back to the last brothel and asking the women on the
balcony for directions, but could not quite get up the nerve. Instead, when he
came to a particularly large wharf that did not seem as badly decayed as the
others, he turned right, onto the street leading directly inland from the
docks. He did not care to stay on the waterfront, under the circumstances;
sailors would be far more likely to recognize his accent, if they heard it,
and to do something about it, than would people who remained safely ashore.
He walked silently along two long blocks lined with warehouses and
shipfitters' shops, marveling at the size and splendor -- and age! -- of the
buildings and at how very straight the street was, then found himself emerging
into a market square.
Unlike the waterfront shops, the market was far from deserted; shipping
might be poor, but the difficulties did not appear to have reached two blocks
inland as yet. Knots of men -- and a sprinkling of women and children -- were
scattered thickly across the hard-packed ground, and the air around him was
awash in their conversation, as loud and constant as a heavy sea breaking on
rocks. A good many wore the blue kilts of sailors, and most of the others had
on tunics and breeches no different from the everyday garb in Shan on the Sea,
but a few were clad in strange and fantastical gowns, robes, jewels, furs, odd
caps, or leather harness. Tobas was not sure what to make of these.
A strong smell of spices hung over everything, more heavily than in the
streets he had previously traveled, though he could find no source for it; he
guessed it came from the surrounding warehouses.
He saw relatively few booths or carts displaying goods, and those which