"Craig Shaw Gardner - Arabian 3 - The Last Arabian Night" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gardner Craig Shaw)

his belt.

Now, Scheherazade, who had received much learning and had heard
many stories at the feet of her enlightened father, could surmise what
might next transpire. Therefore, she did remark with all speed and
clarity:

"No, my king, I should not think to mention anything that you do not
wish. Still, before you take overmuch time admiring your sword, might I
mention that I was looking forward to your ravishing my virginity?"

"A sword?" the king replied in a voice that was exceedingly strange. "A
sword is rather like a lance, isn't it? What did I say about lances?"

"I was speaking of my soon-to-be-lost virginity," Scheherazade
reminded him gently.

"What?" the king remarked, as if awaking from a trance. "Oh, yes.
Most certainly. Virginity. And ravishing. Yes, very much indeed."

"Is there some problem that I should be aware of?" the new queen
asked most sweetly.

"No, not particularly," the king replied, surprised that a woman whose
life was probably now measured in minutes would sound so concerned
for his welfare. So it was that he found himself speaking thoughts that
he had shared with no one before:

"Well," he therefore began, "you have no doubt heard of my many
marriages and trysts and whatnot. And I'm sure that rumor has it that I
ravished every one of these women and then beheaded them in turn."
He paused to sigh deeply. "In actuality, not all of this is true. Some of
the marriages and trysts have not gone as well as planned. Yes, yes,
and a large number of the ravishings have not been given sufficient time
to be entirely successful either. Alas," and here he paused to sigh again,
"only the beheadings seem to have been a total success."

"That is the saddest of stories," Scheherazade commiserated as she
undid the sash about her garments, "but perhaps a bit of ravishing will
put you in a better mood."

"Ravishing?" The king began to shift his garments as well. "Well, yes.
Now that you mention it, I suppose things could be looking up a little
here." He fumbled with his robes, which seemed to have become
entangled with his scabbard. "I seem to be a bit out of practice."

"Perhaps," Scheherazade remarked softly, "it would be easier if you
first removed your sword?"

"My-sword?" the king sputtered. "My lance, don't you mean? Or what