"Frankowski,.Leo.-.Conrad.Starguard.5.-.Lord.Conrad's.Lady" - читать интересную книгу автора (Frankowski Leo)

before any other real people exist? No way. "

"Will you say that when you are starving to death because you have
no teeth to chew your food with? By then it'll be too late to do
anything about it!"

"You're also a damn coward," she said.

Chapter One

FROM THE JOURNAL OF COUNTESS FRANCINE

Everyone seems to be keeping diaries now, and I suppose I
should do so, too, though mine will be written in French so that the
maids can't read it. Perhaps writing will help me take my mind off
the horror of my situation.

I sit here in my husband Conrad's city of Three Walls on the tenth
of March, 1241, looking out from a tower window on the area that
he calls his killing field. He named it thus because it was used
yearly as a place to slaughter the surplus wild animals on his
extensive lands here in southern Poland. It is a part of what he calls
his game management program.

The field still earns its name, though in a far more gruesome way,
for the beasts now concentrated on the field below are an entire
horde of besieging Mongols!

My husband trained all his men into a mighty army and took them to
the east to defend the land against the Tartar invaders. In so doing,
he left the defense of his cities to the women, and we are less sure
of our abilities than we pretend to be. Why he left our strong walls
to fight hundreds of miles away is a matter of dispute among us.
For mine own part, I think that if he wanted to find Mongols, he
could have saved himself the trip.

We wait here, not knowing if our loves are alive and not knowing
how long we ourselves may yet live.

My reader, if any there might chance to be, will therefore forgive
me if I write on more pleasant times in more civilized places.

My childhood was a pleasant one, for my grandfather was a
bishop, and to be a bishop in France means to be wealthy and
powerful. This was all the more true because his diocese was
centered on the wealthy city of Troyes, and it stands astride the
major trade routes between Flanders, where the cloth is made, and
Italy, where the world's cloth is dyed and finished. Two great fairs
were held there every year, and Grandfather got his share of it.