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

overcome his problems.

I, however, had no such difficulties.

The Lady Rosalie, "heeding" her husband's suggestions to improve her riding abilities, took to the
stables more and more frequently to get in practice time. Well...allegedly, that was the reason. But an
intended hour of riding would end up an hour of conversing with me as I groomed and tended to the
horses while she laughed and giggled and watched me perform my duties with a sort of doe-eyed
fascination. I knew exactly where matters were taking us, and did absolutely nothing to deter them in their
course.

One day she asked me to accompany her on a jaunt, since her husband had gone to deal with a minor
uprising in the nearby city ofPell, and she was concerned lest bandits be wandering the roads. This, of
course, wasn't her major concern. We rode several miles away from the good king's stables, chatting
about trivialities, nonsense, and just about everything except for what really occupied our thoughts. By
the lakeside, on a cool morning, nature took its course.

Let us just say that she did not ride exclusively sidesaddle.

I'm sure that I provided little more than an amusement to her, a dalliance. The obvious conclusion was
that she was using me to get back at her husband, to make him jealous. But I doubt that was the case,
because siccing the green-eyed monster upon Granite could only have fatal consequences. Rosalie may
not have been the most polished apple to fall off the tree, but she was most definitely not suicidal.
Maintaining a shroud of secrecy over our relationship heightened the likelihood of her keeping her pretty
head on her shoulders. Besides, when you get down to it, isn't it the very illicitness of an affair, the
forbidden nature of it, which makes it so exciting? Even pedestrian sex can be elevated to new heights
when one isn't supposed to be having it.

That was probably what kept it going. Old Granite had made very clear to all and sundry that he
thought very little of his wife's mental prowess. He considered her something of a twit. But twit or not,
she ably concealed the existence of her tawdry little escapades (and I say that with only the fondest of
recollections and greatest esteem) from this great warrior who thought himself one of the most canny and
discerning of men.

Consequently, when it all came crashing down, it landed with a most pronounced thud.

The Pell situation, which started as something rather inconsequential, began to spiral out of control.
Granite made a tactical error, you see. There had been a hard core of individuals utterly opposed to
pouring more tax money into the king's coffers. I couldn't blame them, really. Most of the money paid in
taxes didn't go into providing resources for public works, but instead either lined the pockets of key
knights, or served to fund foreign wars that most of the peasants never heard of and didn't care about.

The hard core of individuals were endeavoring to organize protests, even stonewall against further
taxes. The other peasants were reluctant to join with them. This came as no surprise to me. Being a
peasant, I know the mind-set. One becomes so used to being downtrodden that one starts to believe that
it's nature's intent that one should inhabit a low rung in society. Lack of movement is a formidable force to
overcome.

The rabble-rousers called themselves the Freedom Brigade and set themselves up as enemies of the
king and his policies. But they weren't enemies, really. An enemy is someone who has the capability to do