"David Drake - Lord of the Isles 05 - Goddess of the Ice Realm" - читать интересную книгу автора (Drake David)

to deal with. Carus had never fully mastered his volcanic temper, a flaw that'd proved fatal as he'd said.
But--

If I'm doing better, Garric said in his mind's silence, then in part it's because I have your skill
to guide my swordarm when a stroke is required.

"I wouldn't know about what went on before my time," muttered Lobon. He spat over the stern
railing, threading the gobbet between the helmsman at the starboard steering oar and one of Garric's
young aides. The helmsman remained unconcerned, but the aide jumped and smothered a curse.

Generally an aide was somebody's nephew, a second son who could run errands for the prince
and either rise to a position of some rank at court or be killed. Either would be a satisfactory outcome,
since a family of the minor nobility couldn't afford to support another son in the state his birth demanded.

This youth, Lord Lerdain, was an exception. He was the heir presumptive of Count Lerdoc of
Blaise, one of a handful of the most powerful nobles in the kingdom. Lerdain's presence at Garric's side
made it more likely that Lerdoc would remain loyal.

Lobon understood Garric's glance toward Lerdain. He scrunched his face into a smile and said to
the aide, "Don't worry, boy. I've been chewing maca root since before your father was born. I won't hit
you less I mean to."
His face shifting into a mask of frustration, he added, "Not room to swing a cat aboard this pig,
there's so many civilians aboard. Ah--begging your pardon, your highness.тАЭ
"I understand, Master Lobon," Garric said with a faint smile. "We'll be on land shortly... and I
fully appreciate your feelings."

The Shepherd of the Isles was as large as any vessel in the royal fleet. She had five rows of oars
on either side and a crew of nearly three hundred men. Despite the quinquereme's relative size, she was
strictly a warship rather than a yacht intended to carry a prince. Garric's personal bodyguard, twenty-five
Blood Eagles, took the place of the Shepherd's normal complement of marines, but he and the dozen
members of his personal entourage were simply excess baggage so far as the ship's personnel were
concerned.
"Though as for being civilians...," Garric added mildly. "I think you'd find I could give as good an
account of myself in battle as most of the marines the Shepherd's shipped over the years."
For his formal arrival in Carcosa, Garric wore a breastplate of silvered bronze and a silvered
helmet whose spreading wings had been gilded. If the sun cooperated, Prince Garric would be a dazzling
gem in a setting formed by the polished black armor of his bodyguards.
Garric's armor this day was for show, but the sword hanging from his belt had a plain bone hilt
and a long blade of watered steel. There was nothing flashy about the weapon; but swung by an arm as
strong as Garric's, the edge would take an enemy's head off with a single stroke.
"Yes sir, your highness!" Lobon said, looking horrorstruck to realize what he'd said to his prince.
To avoid a further blunder, he stepped forward on the walkway and bellowed through the ventilator,
"Timekeeper! Raise the stroke a half beat, won't you? This is supposed to be a royal entry, not a funeral
procession!"
 Obediently the flutist in the far bow of the oar deck quickened the tempo of the simple four-note
progression on his right-hand pipe; the other pipe of the pair continued to play a drone. The rate at which
the oars dipped, rose, and feathered forward increased by the same amount. In time the Shepherd would
slide marginally faster through the water, but a quinquereme was too massive to do anything suddenly.
Even the much lighter triremes which made up the bulk of the fleet accelerated with a certain majesty.
"The trouble is, lad," said the image of Carus, "you don't act like a noble and they treat you