Мор - ученик смерти

           Therewasnodoubtaboutit.Hewould. Theysetoutamongthethrongcrowdingthesquare,eachlisteningtohisownthoughts.UsuallyMortenjoyedvisitingthetown,withitscosmopolitanatmosphereandstrangedialectsfromvillagesasfarawayasfive,eventenmiles,butthistimehefeltunpleasantlyapprehensive,asifhecouldremembersomethingthathadn’thappenedyet. 

           Thefairseemedtoworklikethis:menlookingforworkstoodinraggedlinesinthecentreofthesquare.Manyofthemsportedlittlesymbolsintheirhatstotelltheworldthekindofworktheyweretrainedin–shepherdsworeawispofwool,cartersahankofhorsehair,interiordecoratorsastripofratherinterestinghessianwallcovering,andsoon. 

           TheboysseekingapprenticeshipswereclusteredontheHubsideofthesquare. 

           ’Youjustgoandstandthere,andsomeonecomesandoffersyouanapprenticeship,’saidLezek,hisvoicetrimmedwithuncertainty.’Iftheylikethelookofyou,thatis.’ 

           ’Howdotheydothat?’saidMort. 

           ’Well,’saidLezek,andpaused.Hameshhadn’texplainedaboutthisbit. Hedrewonhislimitedknowledgeofthemarketplace,whichwasrestrictedtolivestocksales,andventured, ’Isupposetheycountyourteethandthat.Andmakesureyoudon’twheezeandyourfeetareallright.Ishouldn’tletonaboutthereading,itunsettlespeople.’ 

           ’Andthenwhat?’saidMort.