"John DeChancie - Castle 08 - Bride of the Castle" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dechancie John)

SURCEASE WILL HE KNOW FOREVER AND EVER * YOU MAY THINK THIS SOME SORT
OF JEST BUT LET ME ASSURE YOU THAT THIS IS MEANT IN DEADLY EARNEST * I
REALIZE YOU MUST HAVE SEEN ANY NUMBER OF THESE WARNINGS AND CURSES
AND HAVE HAD A JOLLY GOOD LAUGH BUT BE WARNED THAT YOU WILL NOT BE
LAUGHING WHEN THE FULL FORCE OF THIS PARTICULAR CURSE COMES DOWN
UPON YOUR HEAD * OH I CAN JUST SEE YOU STANDING THERE SNEERING AND
SCOFFING * VERY WELL TAKE WHAT JOLLITY YOU MAY FROM THESE WORDS FOR I
GUARANTEE THAT IT WILL BE THE LAST TIME A SMILE CURLS YOUR SCROFULOUS
LIP * NO BE MY GUEST GO
"He does blather on," Rance complained. The inscription had run across four walls and now continued
down a narrow passage. Holding the lantern high, he followed after it, reading along.
RIGHT AHEAD * FAR BE IT FROM ME TO SPOIL A GOOD JOKE BUT IT IS I WHO WILL
HAVE THE LAST LAUGH AND BELIEVE ME I WILL LAUGH HEARTILY AT YOUR
IMPENDING MISFORTUNE * YOU DOUBTLESS THINK ME CRUEL BUT I ASK YOU TO
CONSIDER THIS * HERE YOU ARE BLITHELY RANSACKING MY TOMB
"This is absurd." Rance sidestepped down the passageway, squinting in the gloom but continuing to read.
WITHOUT A THOUGHT OR A CARE AS TO MY WELFARE SO WHY SHOULD I BE
CONCERNED WITH YOURS * OF COURSE I REALIZE WHAT YOU MUST BE THINKING *
HE IS A WEALTHY KING AND DEAD BESIDES SO WHY BEGRUDGE YOU A FEW
TRINKETS * AFTER ALL THEY ARE OF NO EARTHLY USE TO ME * IT IS SIMPLY A
MATTER OF PRINCIPLE * I SUPPOSE YOU THINK IT IS EASY TO BE A KING * SIMPLY A
MATTER OF PLANTING YOUR FAT BEHIND ON A THRONE AND FARTING OUT EDICTS
AND DIRECTIVES AND SO FORTH * WELL MY FRIEND YOU LABOR UNDER A
COMMON MISCONCEPTION * NOT ONLY IS BEING KING IF YOU WILL PARDON THE
EXPRESSION A ROYAL PAIN IN THE ASS IT IS ALSO DANGEROUS * PALACE INTRIGUE
* PLOTS * CABALS * ASSASSINATION ATTEMPTS * OH THAT PUTS THE MATTER IN A
SLIGHTLY DIFFERENT LIGHT DOES IT * WELL YOU HAVENT HEARD THE HALF OF IT *
HOW WOULD YOU
"Ye gods, will it never end?" Rance despaired.
LIKE TO SPEND YOUR DAYS SITTING ON A THRONE FACING AN ENDLESS
PROCESSION OF FOREIGN DIGNITARIES PROVINCIAL GOVERNORS COURTIERS
VASSALS FUNCTIONARIES SUPPLICANTS ENVOYS EMISSARIES AND SOLICITORS
ALL BEGGING AND PLEADING AND WANTING HANDOUTS AND FILING PETITIONS
AND CURRYING FAVOR AND FAWNING OBSEQUIOUSLY * DAY AFTER DAY AFTER
ENDLESS DAY THIS INTERMINABLE PARADE OF WHINING COMPLAINING BEGGARS
PULING ABOUT THEIR PERSONAL PROBLEMS THEIR LEGAL ENTANGLEMENTS AND
THEIR PETTY CONCERNS * NOT QUITE THE LIFE YOU IMAGINED IS IT * AND I
SUPPOSE YOU THINK HAVING A FEW DOZEN WIVES AND CONCUBINES MAKES UP
FOR IT * DISABUSE YOURSELF OF THIS NOTION AS WELL MY GHOULISH FRIEND FOR
YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT UTTER UNREMITTING HELL IT IS TO HAVE MORE THAN
THE ONE WIFE THE GODS IN THEIR INFINITE MERCY NATURALLY INTENDED A MAN
TO HAVE * SIMPLY TAKE ALL THE HENPECKS OF ONE HARRIDAN OF A SPOUSE AND
MULTIPLY THEM BY
"Enough!" Rance cried in disgust. He stalked back to the antechamber.
Sighing, he put the lantern down. At least the curse wasn't death. In any case, he would not let a curse
deter him now. He did not look forward to chiseling, chipping, and hammering through limestone, but
times were hard, and this was the only work he could get. He fetched his sledgehammer and returned to
examine the inner door. He knocked a scarred knuckle against it and was surprised. The hollow echo
told him that it wasn't a solid metal door, as he had first thought. It was probably wood in a cladding of
metal. He wouldn't have to break through the wall after all. He'd make short work of the door.