The Thin Executioner. Даррен Шэн

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      ONE

      The executioner swung his axe – thwack! – and another head went rolling into the dust. There was a loud cheer. Rashed Rum was the greatest executioner Wadi had ever seen and he always drew a large crowd, even after thirty years.

      Five executions were scheduled for that morning. Rashed had just finished off the third and was cleaning his blade. In the crowd his youngest son, Jebel, was more interested in the high maid, Debbat Alg, than his father.

      To Jebel, Debbat Alg was the most beautiful girl in Wadi. She was the same height as him, slim and curvy, with long legs, even longer hair, dazzling brown eyes and teeth so white they might have been carved from shards of the moon. Her skin was a delicious dark brown colour. She always wore a long dress, usually with a slit down the left to show off her legs. Her blouses were normally cropped and close-fitting, revealing much of her smooth stomach.

      Rashed Rum tested his blade, then stepped forward. He nodded at the guards and they led the fourth criminal – a female slave who’d struck her mistress – to the platform at the centre of the square. Jebel slid up next to Debbat and her servant, Bastina.

      “I bet she’ll need two blows,” he said.

      Debbat shot him an icy glance. “Betting against your father?” she sniffed.

      “No,” Jebel said. “But I think she’ll try to wriggle free. Slaves have no honour. They always squirm.”

      “Not this one,” Debbat said. “She has spirit. But if you want to risk a bet…”

      “I do,” Jebel grinned.

      “What stakes?” Debbat asked.

      “A kiss?” It was out of Jebel’s mouth before he knew he’d said it.

      Debbat laughed. “I could have you whipped for suggesting that.”

      “You’re just afraid you’d lose,” Jebel retorted.

      Debbat’s eyes sparkled at the thought of having Jebel punished. But then she caught sight of J’An, Jebel’s eldest brother, handing his father a drink. Debbat would have welcomed a kiss from J’An, and he knew it, but so far he’d shown no interest in her. Perhaps he thought he had no competition, that he could claim her in his own sweet time. It might be good to give him a little scare.

      “Very well,” Debbat said, startling both Jebel and Bastina. “A kiss if you win. If you lose, you have to kiss Bastina.”

      “Mistress!” Bastina objected.

      “Be quiet, Bas!” snapped Debbat.

      Bastina pouted, but she couldn’t argue. She wasn’t a slave, but she had pledged herself to serve the high family, so she had to obey Debbat’s commands.

      “Bet СКАЧАТЬ