"Frankowski,.Leo.-.Conrad.Starguard.3.-.Radiant.Warrior" - читать интересную книгу автора (Frankowski Leo)

all. They cleared the dyeing vats, washing tubs, and other
equipment out of the first floor of the cloth factory, and we held the
affair there.

Along with Count Lambert and myself, Sir Vladimir, his two
brothers, two of his sisters and all of their husbands and wives,
plus his parents sat at the high table along with the priest and the
priest's beautiful wife. Added to these were my four remaining
ladies and Count Lambert's current six (he was trying to cut down).
Thus twenty-four nobles were available for the peasants and
workers to take out a year's aggressions on. You'd think that the
pranks would have been spread around a bit more, but Count
Lambert and I still caught the brunt of it.

At least this year I knew what to expect, and could psych myself up
to play the clown before I had to do it. They selected a King of
Misrule by passing out bread rolls with a bean in one of them. As
luck would have it, the bean came to one of my topmen, the men
who climbed to the tops of the huge trees to cut them off so that
the trees could be felled. The topmen were all extroverted Yahoos,
and I had not been polite to them lately.

The Queen of Misrule fell to one of the clothworkers, a remarkably
attractive young woman who at least looked the part.

I won't bore you with the buffoonery that went on. Count Lambert
and I left as soon as possible and retired to his chambers.

"Gad! I swear it gets worse every year!" Count Lambert said as he
took off the yard-long codpiece he had been forced to wear. He
filled two silver goblets from the silver pitcher on the sideboard and
handed one to me.

"I can't see how next year could possibly get rowdier, my lord." I
took off the pointed wizard's hat I'd been given and took a long
pull. The drink was what I needed, though in fact it was wretched
stuff. The lack of glass bottles and decent corks ruined medieval
wine pretty quick. Most of it was drunk in the year after the grapes
were squeezed, and nobody ever considered recording the
vintage; wine didn't last long enough to age.

"Just wait. On some matters a peasant can be very creative. But
there's nothing to be done. Custom is custom." He sat down on a
chest next to a table and motioned me to the one opposite. A
chessboard was already set up.

"Still, my lord, it marks the end of quite a year." I picked up a pawn
from each side, shook them in my cupped hands and concealed
one in each fist, offering them to him.