"Cook, Glen - Dread Empire 01 - Shadow Of All Night Falling" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cook Glen)

"Not even for the Storm Kings themselves?" Luxos asked. He laughed softly when the old man jerked in astonishment.

"Brock, Jerrad, take care of him," Turran ordered. They bound and gagged the man quickly. "Luxos,"

Turran called, holding a ragged piece of parchment to torchlight and squinting at it. "Which stair?" He held a plan of the tower that had been put together for Valther by those men sharpening swords in cellars.

"The main if it's speed we're after."

Turran led the way. They met no resistance till they reached the door of the council chamber at tower's top. There another bailiff tried to block their way. Leaning forward to look at their faces, he discovered the naked steel in their hands. "Assassins!" he cried. He scurried back, tried to close the door. But Brock and Turran used their shoulders, burst in over his sprawling form. Jerrad offered him a hand up after planting a boot on his sword.

Councilmen panicked. Fat burghers threatened to skewer one another as they scrambled for weapons while retreating to the farthest wall. Their ineffectual guardian joined them. The King alone didn't move. Fear kept him petrified.

"Good evening!" said Turran. "Heard you were talking about us. Come now! No need to be afraid. We're not after your lives-just your kingdom." He laughed.

His mirth died quickly. The Councilmen still kept their weapons presented for battle. "Ravenkrak must have this city!"

"Why?" one asked. "Are you reviving a feud so ancient that it's hardly a legend anymore? It's been centuries since your ancestors were exiled."

"It's more than that," Turran replied. "We're building an Empire. A new Empire, to beggar Ilkazar." He said it seriously, though he knew that to his brothers the business was more a game, chess with live players. For all their planning and preparation, he and his brothers hadn't devoted much thought to consequences or costs. Brock, Luxos, Jerrad, and Ridyeh were playing out Ravenkrak's age-old fantasies more for the excitement than from devotion.

Nervous laughter. Someone said, "A world empire? Ravenkrak? With a handful of men? When Ilkazar failed with her millions? You're mad."

"Like a fox," Turran replied, pushing his dark hair back. "Like a fox. I've already taken Iwa Skolovda. And without blood lost."

"Not yet!" A Councilman shuffled forward, sword ready.

Turran shook his head sadly, said, "Take care of the fool, Luxos. Don't hurt him."

Luxos stepped up, smiling confidently. His opponent's certainty wavered. Then he made a lunge that should have slain. But Luxos brushed his blade aside, launched his own attack. Steel rang on steel three times. The Iwa Skolovdan stared at his empty hand.

The lesson wasn't lost on the others.

Turran chuckled. "Like I said, we're taking over. We'll do it without bloodshed if we can. But we can hold a festival for the Dark Lady if you want it that way. You there. Look out the window."

A sullen fat man did so. "Soldiers!" he growled. "What're you doing?"

"I told you, taking the city."

Deep-throated rage sounds came from the Councilmen. They started forward...

"Tower's secure, Milord," said a bass voice from beyond the doorway. The red-bearded captain led a squad into the chamber. He glanced at the bewildered Councilmen, laughed, asked, "What should I do with them?"

"Lock them in their own dungeon till Nepanthe's secure. Where's Valther?"

"You want me?" Valther entered, panting from the climb up the stair. His face was flushed with excitement.

"Yes. Collect your revolutionaries. I want to start organizing the new administration tonight. And get our troops out of sight as soon as we can."

Valther departed.