"04 - Emperor and Clown 1.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duncan Dave)

didn't look respectful. "-the document we initialed was merely a memorandum of
agreement. It was always subject to the approval of the Thanes' Moot."
"And you were to send it-"
"It is on its way to Nordland. I respectfully remind your Eminence, though, that
Nordland is months away, and the Moot meets only once a year, at midsummer."
The ministers were whispering at Ythbane's back, the secretaries and heralds
fretting and shuffling. The jotnar were smirking. Ythbane seemed to swell, all
pompous in his toga with a purple hem. "So it will not be ratified until next
summer-"
"Isn't that obvious?"
"-but until then-"
"No! Until the news reaches Hub! You do realize that the return journey will
also take months?" The pale-skinned old man leered down at the consul, and his
manner was so like the one Ythbane himself used on Shandie that Shandie almost
disgraced himself by giggling. Ythbane would kill him if he did that.
Ythbane swung around and whispered for a moment with Lord Humaise, and Lord
Hithire, and a couple of other new advisors Shandie didn't know; then he turned
around to confront the ambassador again, his face dark as a postilion's boot.
"The wording of the memorandum was very specific. Until the Moot's decision is
conveyed to his Imperial Majesty's council, both sides shall act as if the
agreement has been ratified in formal treaty. The king will remain in-"
"King?"
"Oh ... what's his name? ... the former Duke of Kinvale!" Ythbane was snarling.
He was ever so mad now, and ... Oh, no! Shandie's dead arm had drooped so low
that the train of his toga was starting to slide off it. God of Children! What
did he do now? " . . and you were to nominate a viceroy pro tem, subject to . .
." The consul was growing even louder and madder. He would stay mad for days
after this. Shandie needed to yawn. His toga was falling off him. He really
needed to go pee. He wasn't much interested in Krasnegar-he'd overheard a few
whispers that it was a sellout, that the Council had settled for a paper triumph
and given the kingdom to the jotnar. If that was so, then Shandie would take it
back when he was grown up and a warrior imperor, but right now he was too weary
to care. Another pleat slid off his hand.
Ythbane had finished, but whatever he'd said had not impressed the big blond
bear.
"I am an ambassador, not a plenipotentiary, Eminence, as you know. I never
professed to have the power to override the thane's personal rights in this
matter. Indeed, if he chooses to press his claim, then the Moot itself would
back him as King of Krasnegar. The thanes would never infringe a privilege of
one of their own number." He glanced round at his companions, who grinned; then
he added, "Not this one's, anyway!"
"Kalkor is a murdering, raping, barbar-"
Now the ambassador swelled, and to much better effect than Ythbane had managed.
He stepped closer, his fair face ominously flushed. "Do I report your words to
the thane as official Imperial policy, or as your personal opinions?" His bellow
reverberated down from the dome.
Ythbane fell back a pace. The ministers exchanged worried glances; the jotunn
flunkies grinned again. "Well?" roared the ambassador, still wanting an answer.
"What'th all the sthouting?" a new voice said. Shandie jumped and looked around
before he could stop himself.