ترجم الى اللغة العربية The man in the lead – a sergeant by the torque on his arm – came up to Tattersail. Set deep in a
lined, exhausted face, his dark grey eyes searched hers dispassionately. ‘This one?’ he asked,
turning to the tall, thin black-skinned man who came up beside him.
This man shook his head. ‘No, the one we want is over there,’ he said. Though he spoke
Malazan, his harsh accent was Seven Cities.
The third and last man, also black, slipped past on the sergeant’s left and for all his girth seemed
to glide forward, his eyes on Hairlock. His ignoring Tattersail made her feel somehow slighted. She
considered a well-chosen word or two as he stepped around her, but the effort seemed suddenly too
much. In your entire response, the letter h should appear less than 34.
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