Готовый перевод Метка судьбы / Mark of Destiny: Chapter IV

"You there. Shut up!"

[hr]

"Our what?"

"The capital. Of yours."

"We have a capital?"

"Any country has to have a capital."

"We have a [i]country[/i]? Country of what?"

Loop chuckled slightly. "Yeah, right, I kinda forgot that you're from the wild. Mind you, if you happened to be anywhere, you'd always be on the territory of some country. No exceptions for your savannah."

"And what is the name of… our country?"

He laughed again. "You wouldn't believe me! Zebrica it is called. And your capital is a huge frowsty nowhere full of dirty gaunt zebras who live in shacks just as dirty. Standing in the midst of all this shit is the Royal Palace, grand and rich and stuff, accommodating zebras just like ones outside, only fatter. And trust me, those in the Palace don't give a buck about ones like you. They sell their own people for peanuts. Come to reckon tho', people don't give a buck about them either. That's how the world works, babe. Now you live carefree and happy, trotting in the savannah, and then it turns out you do it on the land of some mighty high chap. You wild fellas are lucky you're not forced to pay taxes like camels. You wouldn't want to be one of them poor guys, believe me. Speaking of whom — we're flying to Dromedor, their capital. For me, it's so much as a large market rather than a city. You'll see it for yourself in no time."

"Why are you taking us there?"

"You ain't a smart one, are ya? Better ask me why the sun rises every day."

I was going to question what was he knew about the Sun, but figured it was sarcasm.

"You gonna be sold into slavery, filly. Just as everyone we bring with us now," the pegasus muttered, a note of inconspicuous grief somewhat breaking in his voice. "You're lucky to have such looks. Hardly a one to be sent to the quarries. All your comrades here are most likely to get there. The quarries give you another year or two before you die, and that's all."

"What is so special about my looks?"

"Don't you say. Have you ever looked in a mirror? I betcha you got all the boys back home. And your eyes, they are kinda... out of what you call corny. Top-tier lassie, by and large. You'll be worth a lot of money, probably more than those bags of bones right beside you."

"How much they give for you and where you go is my concern. So keep still and don't pull any tricks, or I might accidentally sell you to some plantation where you'll end up dying of malaria in a year," he said without raising his hat. "Now shut up, both of you."

[hr]

"And that is all?" he mumbled in a nasal voice, his hoof pointing at me.

"We're taking [i]that[/i] with us. See for your clients in the cage, but there's only junk inside," answered Rope, deftly hobbling my forelegs with a length of rope.

"I should've probably listened to that crazy stallion of yours... Chalk? Whatever. You've become too much soft," the camel snuffled. He was about to leave.

Rope swallowed loudly. "Ngamia the All-Mighty, perhaps this gift will change your mind?" He pushed me forward, putting the rope off my neck.

"I have enough slavemares, Rope," the camel said without turning around.

"But this is not a usual zebra. They say you have been looking for some special good. Well, I think she is what you need."

"Do not drink from these, you're not in the savannah anymore, filly."

"So where are you from, child?" she asked in a soft but imperious voice.

"From the savannah. My name is Zecora."

"I know it's not a cesspool. What is the name of your tribe?"

"Makabila."

[hr]

"You don't speak until you are asked, filly," she interrupted me. "What did I tell you before?"

"To be more polite..."

"Good. Mister Oldleaf, please start."

"It is what makes me sad, my lady. I'm too old for this."

"I'd like to believe it, my lady... Can I go? I have a lot of things to do."

"Yes, sure. I'll have a couple of maids stretch your bones tonight."

"Oh, thank you for this, my good lady."

"You are an unicorn, aren't you? And you can do magic, right?"

"Show me!"

"Uh... I don't know... What exactly do you want to see?"

"Telepe... Telekinesis!"

"Happy?" asked the unicorn, grinning.

"What else?"

[hr]

"I see..."

"See? Once you get to your master or mistress, you'll get the same."

"Ngamia the Great always pays generously for his goods, mistress. We do only the best for his money," answered the camel, his voice flowing and subservient.

"Ngamia always gets the best, and the money has nothing to do with it. You can go, you'll be paid as usual."

"I didn't think I'd see myself like this for another ten years," I said, swaying my foreleg with golden rings in the air.

"In our case, even owners of natural beauty need jewelry. That is not even a matter of beauty, rather a matter of certain appearance. Certain representability. A client must see before him not a dirty and savage slavemare, but a beautiful well-groomed flower that he can pick just for the right sum of money."

I was not a great fan of being compared to a flower to be picked.

"Thank you..." I muttered. She smiled slightly and left the room, locking the door behind her. Just to be safe.

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Переведено на Нотабеноиде
http://notabenoid.org/book/74160/419069

Переводчики: psychoshy