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

"A swindle. You know what I have to say to the Eastern Empire?"
"What, sire?"
"Vafangul!"
"I'm not familiar with the idiom, sire."
"No, you wouldn't be. I learned that from a buddy of mine in Brooklyn. You've never even heard of
Brooklyn, have you?"
Tremaine thought about it, then shook his head. "I cannot say that the name rings a bell."
"No matter. Anyway, I think it's time to inform the Empire where they can hide their tribute."
"But, sire, the political repercussions-"
"To hell with the- No, wait a minute. They want a token? Very well, send them a falcon. One falcon."
"Yes, sire."
"Not a live one, mind you. A statuette of one."
"Statuette. Yes, sire."
"Cast in lead."
"Lead?"
"Lead, covered with a thin coat of black enamel."
"As you wish, sire."
The king crumpled the form into a ball, swung in his swivel chair and pitched the ball toward a
wastebasket. Arching nicely, it dropped right in.
"That's a good deuce!"
"Very nice shot, sire."
"Thank you. What's next?"
"This loan petition, sire, wants your signature."
The king was alarmed. "Another loan to cover yet another operating deficit?"
"Unfortunately, sire."
"We're in the red for another quarter? I don't believe it."
"The Exchequer's report is in front of you, sire."
"What? Oh."
The king studied the Exchequer's report. "We're spending too much!"
"Yes, sire, but expenses keep rising."
"Do they ever drop?" came the king's rueful and rhetorical question. "I suppose I have no choice.
Otherwise we won't be able to make our. payroll."
"Unfortunately true, sire. Once again we must supplicate the moneylenders."
"Damn it, why do we need money, anyway? This castle runs on magic."
"Magic costs money, sire."
"You're right," the king said resignedly. Taking up a quill, he scrawled his signature on the loan petition.
"We simply have to make some spending cuts around here," the king commanded.
"Aye, we must, sire."
"Luxuries are out! Everybody has to pull in the belt!"
"Yes, sire."
"Think we could get away with charging the Guests room and board?"
"Most of them have no source of income, sire."
"Of course they don't. They sit around all day, eating my food."
"But if they left the castle every day to work, sire, it might-"
"Oh, hell, never mind. I wouldn't think of charging them room and board. What am I thinking of? None
asked to come here, and most can't find their way back."
"You are a most gracious host, Majesty."
"Well, we're just going to have to raise quitrents."
Tremaine took a long breath. He cleared his throat. "Sire," he began.
His Serene and Transcendent Majesty raised a hand. "Don't say it. It's politically impossible. Gods damn