"David Drake - General 08 - The Tyrant" - читать интересную книгу автора (Drake David)

his final decision.

Treason.
***

Another man would have called it something else. "The good of the nation," "the needs of the hour,"
whatever. Some wormy turn of phrase. But Verice Demansk would not. First, because he had never
been given to euphemisms, nor to lying. SecondlyтАФmore importantтАФbecause if he didn't think he was
honest he wouldn't have made the decision to become a traitor in the first place.

"In this, as in many things," he said softly to himself, "evil is wasted on the wicked. Only the virtuous can
truly plumb its depths, because only they have the necessary strength of conviction."

He recognized the thought as a modification of one of Prithney'sDialogues . And he found himself
wondering, for a moment, what comment the father of his own grandchild might make about it. All
Emeralds were prone to flights of philosophic fancy anyway, but Adrian Gellert was even a graduate of
the Grove. A genuine Emerald scholarтАФa breed which Demansk had always thought was about as far
removed as possible from the hard-headed practical way of thinking of such men as himself.

He mused on the contrast between grandfather and father, for a moment, still standing before the statue
of the All-Father.

Demansk was a Justiciar of the Confederacy of Vanbert, the great nation which ruled half the world.
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Adrian Gellert had been born in Solinga, once the capital cityтАФinsofar as that term wasn't laughableтАФof
the Emerald League, the collection of squabbling and quarreling city-states clustered on the north coast of
the single great continent of the planet Hafardine.

The single great continent weknowof, Demansk corrected himself. Emerald scholars had long since
convinced their Vanbert conquerors that the world was roundтАФand so, who was to say what lands
might exist somewhere across the great Ocean?

The Confederation had conquered the Emeralds half a century ago. Demansk's own grandfather, in fact,
had led the army which forced Solinga itself to capitulate.

And what would he think now, I wonder?

Demansk could still remember the old man vividly. Fierce old man, as accustomedтАФunlike modern
noblemenтАФto working with pigs and leading farmhands in their labor as he was with the Council
chamber and army maneuvers. And, though this was perhaps fancy, Demansk thought he could
remember his grandfather muttering, after the conquest was over, that no good would come of it. "Damn
Emeralds! Put three of them in a room, you've got eight opinions on any subject under the sun.
They think too much! That's a disease, boy, nothing else. And it's contagious, so be careful. Stay
away from the bastards."

His lips quirked a bit. "Well, I tried, Grandfather," he whispered softly. "But . . ."