"03 - The Stricken Field 1.0." - читать интересную книгу автора (Duncan Dave)

to control the political use of sorcery. But who controls them, mm? No one, of
course! They play with us, Umpy!"
Again that long-discarded incivility! "Play with us?" "We are tokens in the
longest-running game in the universe. The Four amuse themselves by playing war
games with mundane mankind."
The only warden Umpily could claim to know even slightly was Warlock Olybino. As
ruler of the Imperial Army, East had certainly enjoyed playing at war. Umpily
had not thought the others did, though. He said nothing.
"At last one man arose who saw the terrible truth," Shandie continued. He paused
and for a moment seemed to be studying that mysterious blue chair in the
shadows. "Twenty years ago, a clear-thinking, peace-loving, wellmeaning young
man succeeded to the Red Throne. You know to whom I refer?"
"Warlock Zinixo?" Umpily did not recall the dwarf as clear-thinking,
peace-loving, or well-meaning. More like crazy, deluded, and murderous.
"Zinixo, correct. He became warden of the west, and resolved to stop this evil
senseless slaughter." ShandieEmthoro-resumed his restless movement to and fro.
"He was very young. Perhaps the others tolerated him at first because they
thought he would grow out of what they regarded as juvenile idealism. When they
realized that he was serious in his intent, they closed ranks against him. They
ganged up on him. He was overthrown."
"I understood-"
Shandie nodded sadly. "They had help, yes. Even all together, the other three
were not strong enough to prevail against him, for he had the Good on his side,
and the Gods. They enlisted to their misbegotten cause a sinister, perverted
accomplice-a sorcerer of frightful capacity, a faun mongrel who went by the name
of Rap." He spat the word, scowling.
"But he cured your grandfa-"
"A sadist!" Shandie shouted. "An evil, power-crazy barbarian, who mocked at law
and flouted the Protocol! With his help, the other three wardens overturned and
dispossessed the rightful warden of the west!" He paused and then smiled almost
bashfully, as if ashamed of his strange show of anger.
"Fortunately," he continued more softly, "the Blessed One survived. He was
driven from Hub, out into the darkness, but he did survive. For many years he
gathered strength in secret, never flagging in his dream of bringing justice and
peace to all of Pandemia. Eventually, of course, the Four learned of their
danger. The events you witnessed in the Rotunda were a frantic effort to impose
their ancient evil system on yet another imperor-me!"
Umpily licked his lips and said nothing. This man might look exactly like
Shandie, and his voice might sound like Shandie's, but Shandie would never talk
with such vehemence.
Neither, for that matter, would the foppish, languorous Emthoro, who had never
been known to work up a passion over anything or anyone: masculine, feminine, or
neuter. Whoever this Shandie-figure was, real or fake, he was not his own
master.
"Hoping to forestall the reformer," the imperor continued, pausing for a moment
by the fireplace to adjust the Kerithian figurines on the mantel, "the Four
chose to preempt the enthronement ceremony. Two of them would be enough to
confirm my accession, of course, and even one of them could bind me to their
will."
"But--"