"Martha Wells - Wheel of the Infinite" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wells Martha)

 A Koshan nun wasn’t an unusual sight, but the room fell silent when Maskelle entered. She went up
to the table and slammed her staff down across the scattering of coins and papers. Everyone stared,
gap-jawed with shock. Her eyes on the factor, she said, “Stand up.”
He was a large man, his head half-shaved and the rest of his hair braided, his face plump and
good-humored, a temperament belied by the steel in his eyes. He smiled placatingly, and said. “Now,
Sister—”
“Revered,” she corrected coldly. She had held the title once and was still due it by the rules of temple
precedence.
He hesitated, calculating. She held his eyes. The calculation gave way to uneasiness, and he said,
“Revered,” and stood up. Several ranks in the temple were addressed that way, and none of them could
be offended with impunity.
She said, “These people are players and can’t afford your extortionate prices for shelter unless they
can perform.” Her voice sounded soft and very angry. “Is there any real reason they shouldn’t?”
The factor spread his hands. “No, Revered, but if I let every band of beggars who said they were
entertainers—”
That stung Rastim to speech before Maskelle could interrupt. “We’re not beggars,” he said heatedly,
stepping forward. “We do Ariaden and classical kiradi theater. We’ve come all the way from Ariad and
we haven’t had a chance to perform since Sakili.”
“It was a misunderstanding, Revered,” one of the other men suggested worriedly.
“If the Revered wishes it, then they can perform,” the factor said with a stiff smile.
Maskelle looked at all the anxious expressions and wondered what they were seeing. A heavy silence
lay over the room, surely too heavy for a dispute like this. But that was her own conscience behind that
thought; they couldn’t know what she was. Had been, she reminded herself, had been. “The Revered
wishes it,” she said, and turned away.



Rastim and Firac’s announcement that they had won the battle and would be able to perform was
greeted less than enthusiastically by the rest of the troupe. Gardick swore at them and Therasa pretended
to collapse in a dead faint.
Even Firac was hesitant when Rastim wanted to break out the scenery and do a full-scale Ariaden
production, maybe Conquest of the Inland Sea or Dawncallers. Since they had no money to hire extra
stagehands, this would have left everyone exhausted and in no condition to travel the next day. Maskelle
was alarmed; it was more important that they reach the safety of Duvalpore soon than it was to rub their
victory in the post factor’s face. She wished she had realized that before starting the whole thing. But
Rastim and Firac were voted down by the others and it was decided that they would do a kiradi comedy
of manners, which could be read without scenery or costumes. Knowing Rastim, he would still try to
work in a few puppets.
Maskelle would have thought a kiradi comedy a bit too sophisticated for this crowd, except that the
merchants who were to be the primary audience turned out to be from Mahlindi.
The Mahlindi had nothing like theater in their native country and it had proved wildly popular with
them when they encountered it in other lands. Maskelle had once seen a group of them sit for four hours
enraptured by a Ventredi morality play performed in a language that none of them could understand.
While they might know nothing of the subtle mores of kiradi noble society that the comedy was drawn
from, they were certain to give it all their intelligent attention and appreciate most of the jokes.
 The Mahlindi were even willing to pay in advance, a copper coin for every member of their party,
including the hired wagon drivers and guards, whether they wanted to see the play or not. This enabled
the Ariaden to afford fodder for the oxen and overpriced pork buns and rice for themselves. Old Mali
saved them money by buying taro cheaply off the back of a farmer’s wagon, and fled cackling from the
factor’s assistants when they came to shout at her for private trading in the post compound. But everyone