"Dave Duncan - Tales of King's Blades 5 - The Jaguar Knights" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duncan Dave)1 Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html Something was up. The Royal Guard liked to think it knew all the news and heard it before anyone else did, but that day it had been shut out. The morning watch had been on duty for two hours already, but Commander Vicious had not arrived to hold the daily inspection and the graveyard shift had not yet been stood down.They were supposedly attending the King, who was meeting with senior advisors in the coun-cil chamber. Absurd! Even during the worst panics of the Thencaster Conspiracy, three years ago, Athelgar had never summoned his cabinet in the middle of the night. Deputy Commander Lyon must have some idea what was going on, but he refused to admit it. Infuriatingly, he just sat behind his desk in the guardroom, reading a book of poetryтАФLyon not only read poetry, he wrote it too, yet he was a fine swordsman, subtle and unpredictable.The half-dozen Blades sustaining the permanent dice game under the win-dow were doing so halfheartedly, grumbling more than gambling. Sir Wolf was polishing his boots in a cornerтАФWolf never read poetry, was never invited into the games, and cared not a fig what folly the King was pursuing this time. The park beyond the frost-spangled panes was all pen-and-ink, stark white-and-black, sun-bright snow and cadaver trees under a sky of ane-mic blue, for this was Secondmoon of 395, the coldest winter in mem-ory. Nocare, with its high ceilings and huge windows, was a summer palace, impossible to heat in cold weather. The King had moved the court there on some inexplicable whim and could not return it to poky old Greymere as long as the roads were blocked by snowdrifts. Courtiers slunk around unhappily, huddled in furs and muttering under their smoky breath. Innumerable feet shuffled past the guardroom door: gentry, heralds, pages, porters, stewards,White Sisters, Household Yeomen. No one paid any heed until a rapid tattoo of heel taps raised every head. Blades knew the sound of Guard boots, and these were in a hurry. Wolf went on polishing his left one. In marched Sir Damon, still wearing his sash as officer in charge of the night watch. The kibitzers by the window exchanged shocked glances.The matter was much more than routine if Sir Vicious had sent a senior Blade as messenger, instead of a junior or just a page. Damon glanced around the room, then bent to whisper something toLyon .Lyon turned to Wolf. тАЬLeader wants you.тАЭ Wolf put foot in boot and stamped. тАЬWhere?тАЭ Damon said, тАЬCouncil Chamber. HeтАЩs still with the PirateтАЩs Son.тАЭ |
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