Inversions by Iain M. Banks

Author:Iain M. Banks
Language: pt
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Tags: Science Fiction - High Tech, Science Fiction - Adventure, Fiction - Science Fiction, High Tech, Fiction : Science Fiction - High Tech, General, Science fiction, Science Fiction - General, Adventure, Fiction, Science Fiction And Fantasy
ISBN: 9781416583783
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2007-10-18T06:00:00+00:00

'And who fired first?' Perrund asked quietly and without moving. Her head was tipped, lowered over the 'Secret Keep' board, studying her next move. They were sitting in the visiting chamber of the harem, towards ninth bell. There had been a particularly noisy after-hunt feast that evening, though UrLeyn had retired early.

'It was YetAmidous,' DeWar said, no more loudly. 'His was the shot that lifted the Protector's cap off his head. The cap was found downstream. The bolt was embedded inside a log by the stream. A finger-breadth lower . . .'

'Indeed. And so it was RuLeuin's that just missed you.'

'And just missed UrLeyn, too, though I think it was his waist it missed by a hand's breadth or so, not his head by a finger's.'

'Could each bolt plausibly have been meant for the ort?'

'. . . Yes. Neither man is regarded as a marksman. If YetAmidous really was aiming for UrLeyn's head then I imagine that most of the people in the court who consider themselves authorities on this sort of matter would judge it as a surprisingly accurate shot, given the circumstances. And YetAmidous did seem genuinely shocked that he'd missed the Protector by so small a margin. And RuLeuin is his brother, for all Providence.' DeWar sighed heavily, then yawned and rubbed his eyes. 'And YetAmidous, as well as being a poor shot, is just not the type to be an assassin.'

'Hmm,' Perrund said in a particular tone.

'What?' Only as he said this did DeWar realise how well he felt he had come to know the woman. Just the way she had made that single sound had meant much to him.

'I have a friend who spends quite a lot of time in YetAmidous' company,' Perrund said softly. 'She has said that he delights in card games played for money. He takes even greater delight in making it seem that he is ignorant of the subtleties of the games and pretending that he is a poor player. He appears to forget the rules, has to ask what to do at certain points, inquires as to the meaning of terms the other players use, and so on. Often he will deliberately lose a series of small bets. In fact he is only waiting until an especially large wager is at stake, whereupon he almost invariably wins, much to his own apparent surprise. She has seen this happen time after time. His friends are wise to him now, and are amused as well as wary, but many a young and smirking nobleman who thought himself in the presence of a bumbling fool ripe for the picking has been lucky to leave YetAmidous' house with a coin to call his own.'

DeWar realised that he was biting his lip as he stared at the game board. 'So the man is a skilled dissembler, not a buffoon. That is worrying.' He looked up at Perrund, though she did not meet his gaze. He found himself inspecting the blonde mass of her gathered-up hair, marvelling at its sheen and perfect fairness.

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