Вилорп

→Horm holds up the Ocean Storm.

→"Well she's quite welcome here," I growl. "And you still haven't told us why I should let you join in our card game tonight."

→Lisutaris, Mistress of the Sky flushes slightly. Whether because of her illness, or because Horm has struck a nerve, I'm not sure.

→"Of course not. You're pleased to have the protection of her fighting skills. But it's a different matter when it comes to mixing in polite society. I imagine that Makri has encountered very little of polite society during her employment with you."

→"We're at war," snaps Lisutaris. "There wasn't time to argue."

→"Welcomed by you perhaps, philosopher," replies Horm, in a tone that's a good deal more respectful than the one he used towards me. "But you are a man of uncommon wisdom and civilisation. As for the others . . . Is the Deputy Consul really comfortable being in the same room as a woman with Orcish blood? Did he protest when she was banned from accompanying Lisutaris to the Palace? How about you, Lisutaris? Did you argue on her behalf?"

→"Yes she does," says Samanatius, speaking for the first time. "Makri will always be welcome in this city."

→"You see?" says Horm, once more turning to Makri. "You see how they hate the Orcish blood? You don't belong here."

→"Why would we let you play? It's Humans only. Orcs not welcome."

→It's my turn to sneer. I'm not about to sit down and play cards with an Orc who walks into my office uninvited and insults my intelligence in front of everyone.

→"Yes," says Horm. "I did. And to propose a bargain. Or rather, a sporting venture. Tonight Thraxas will be engaged in a card game, playing some opponents who have the reputation of being the finest gamblers in the city. Thraxas has frustrated me in the past, and I would enjoy the opportunity to best him at one of his favourite pursuits."

→"Did you bring me here to discuss Makri's talents?" says Cicerius, angrily.

→"Yet here you are, still employed as a barmaid in a cheap tavern, surrounded by imbeciles of the lowest order. Why not admit it? Turai will never recognise your talents."

→He pauses. A slight smile plays across his face.

→"Have I offended you?" says Horm. "I apologise. I regarded your success at the racetrack as merely another example of your excellence in every field. Really, Makri, you are such a remarkable person. The finest sword-fighter in the land, the cleverest student in the city, and the most beautiful woman in the east or west."

→"The Association of Gentlewomen did not cheat at the races. And Melus the Fair is not a secret supporter. It's an outrageous accusation."

→She pauses, and looks flustered.

→"Not enough to make a large donation to the Association of Gentlewomen anyway," continues Makri. "Even if I'd wanted to."

→"I didn't really win that much," says Makri, and manages to sound so guilty that all eyes turn towards her.

→Makri narrows her eyes. It's true. She won a lot of money but it's not something she'd want bandied around by the likes of Horm, particularly as her success relied on some gross cheating by the Association of Gentlewomen, aided by Melus the Fair, resident Sorcerer at the Stadium Superbius.