"Peter David - Sir Apropos 01 - Sir Apropos Of Nothing" - читать интересную книгу автора (David Peter)

There was a long table down the middle, with benches on either side. The knights took positions on
the benches and Madelyne proceeded to serve them. The knights did not address her directly, but
instead talked among themselves in low, cautious tones. Madelyne suspected that they were discussing
affairs of state, secret matters that were meant for the ears of knights and kings and none other. She
made sure to keep the drink flowing, biting back her natural inquisitiveness and instead being content to
bask in their presence.

Minutes became hours. The storm had continued unabated, prompting a number of the customers to
refrain from going outside. Consequently they had simply fallen asleep in their seats or at their tables,
some of them with their drinks in hand. Madelyne moved among the snoring crowd, maneuvering
effortlessly with more mugs of mead for the knights in the back room. The only other individual remaining
awake at that point was Stroker. Nothing seemed to faze him.

When Madelyne walked into the back room with the drinks, she felt a little trill of warning down the
back of her neck. The knights were looking at her in a way that they hadn't before. Indeed, earlier it had
seemed as if they were barely noticing her presence, beyond the fact that she was the means by which
they acquired more drink. But now they were studying her, appraising her, and apparently liking what
they were seeing.

My mother, the poor thing, was flattered. She ignored the little buzz of alarm and instead chose to be
pleased that she was garnering that sort of attention from such noble personages.

She placed the mugs down in front of each of them,thunk, thunk, thunk, just as she had repeatedly
during the many hours prior to that. In those cases, their hands had immediately wrapped around the
handles as if afraid that someone would burst in and steal their beverages. This time, no one did so. They
didn't appear to notice the drinks were there. Their concentration remained upon her.

The fact that she was so much the center of attention actually emboldened her, when it should have
warned her to get the hell out of the room...not that it likely would have made a difference. "Gentlemen...I
know none of your names," she said, imagining that she sounded rather saucy. "Here I've been serving
you all this time, and we haven't been properly introduced. I know you not...nor do you know me."

"We don't need to," said another one of the knights.

"Oh." She wasn't quite certain what else to say in such a circumstance, with a reply that seemed so
harsh. "Well..." She curtsied slightly and then said, "If you will be needing anything else, my name is--"

She didn't get the chance to tell them.

One of them was on his feet, moving so quickly that she never actually saw him rise. He clamped a
hand over her mouth, cutting off her sentence, and then he pushed her roughly onto the table. She cried
out in surprise and confusion, but since her mouth was covered her cries were muffled.

She heard a tearing of cloth, and was so disconnected from the moment that she didn't fully realize,
until the chill air washed over her, that her dress was being torn from her. Pieces of metal were clanking
to the floor as several of the knights were divesting themselves of their armor. "Hold her," growled one of
them.

The thunder blasted, and the room seemed to light up with lightning, and then of course even the