"Tyrants And Kings - 02 - The Grand Design" - читать интересную книгу автора (Marco John)

"You there!" called Kye across the courtyard. "Is this surrender?"
Still the Gothans said nothing. They were fifty yards away at least, and Vorto wondered if they had heard the question over the wind.
"My God," grumbled Vorto. "They surrender as poorly as they fight."
And then the spiked gate of Lokken's castle began drawing upward. The Gothan guardians parted like waves, revealing the murky insides of the keep. Vorto and Kye both strained to see past the gathering snow. A small figure emerged from the darkness. Thinking it was the duke, Vorto's heart leapt with excitement. But then he saw the crimson uniform of the Gothan military and knew the man wasn't Lokken. This soldier was old, far older than the duke, and slightly stooped. He walked past the guardians of the fortress without regard, heading straight for Vorto and his army.
"What's this?" asked Vorto. He drew himself erect, then handed his battle axe to Kye. "Who are you?" he demanded of the soldier. "And what business have you with me?"
Without ceremony, the soldier stopped mere feet from the general of Nar.
"You are Vorto?" he asked pointedly. "Old man, I asked you a question," warned Vorto. "Do you speak for Lokken?"
"I speak for the duke, yes," replied the soldier. "I i am Larius, Counselor-at-Arms for the Walled City. You [ are Vorto, are you not? "
Vorto smiled. "I am your master and lord high executioner, dog. Servant of Heaven and Archbishop ' Herrith." The general glared down hard. "Where is your duke?"
"The duke awaits you in his throne room," said Larius. "I am to take you there."
"A personal invitation? Oh, how gracious. I accept, Gothan. Take me to the pig."
Colonel Kye cleared his throat. "General ..." "Be fearless, Kye," said Vorto. "We are in God's hands. Counselor, lead on. Kye, you come with me."
Larius of Goth made a disdainful face but said nothing more. He turned his back on the legions and headed again for the fortress gates. Vorto followed, as did Kye, with the ten soldiers that shadowed the general everywhere in tow. When they reached the gates, Vorto and his entourage dismounted, handing their horses off to the Naren infantry. The soldiers of Goth eyed them balefully. Vorto watched Larius disappear into the fortress. Inside, the great hall was lit with torches and lined with perfectly positioned soldiers, all in uniforms of bright crimson. They had their swords drawn and held erect at their sides, so that they looked more like toys than things of flesh. Vorto hesitated at the threshold.
Larius paused to regard him.
"Come, General," ordered the soldier impatiently. "They won't hurt you. They have their orders."
Vorto stepped unflinchingly into the hall, spurred on by the insult. Colonel Kye was equally deliberate. At the far end of the hall was a set of open doors. Larius led the intruders through the hall, and when he reached the doors he stepped aside. "The duke," he said.
Vorto stepped into the room. At the other end of the expansive chamber he saw Lokken, sitting upon his modest throne. At his right hand was the austerely beautiful Kareena. Her eyes flashed when she glimpsed the general. At the feet of the duchess were two small girls, Lokken's daughters, looking stricken and confused. The duke himself seemed surprisingly composed. There were no guardians in the chamber, no soldiers of any kind. Only Lokken and his brood. Vorto strode noisily into the chamber, his armor dripping Gothan blood. When he came to the small dais he paused, choked up saliva, and spit the wad in Lokken's tranquil face. With perfect composure, Duke Lokken wiped the spittle away.
"So," grated Vorto. "This is where the king sits, eh?"
Lokken said nothing.
"Oh, you treacherous thing. You are abhorrent in the eyes of God! How is it you dare defy the will of Heaven?"
Still the duke was silent.
"Say something, you arrogant maggot!"
But it was Kareena who responded. She lunged at Vorto, screaming, her nails raking his face. Vorto hissed and caught her arm, twisting it and driving her to her knees. His other hand slapped her face, splitting her lip.
"No!" cried Lokken, leaping from his throne. He grabbed his wife and drew her into his arms.
"Control your woman, Lokken," warned Vorto, "or I will take her back with me and teach her manners myself."
"Don't you touch her!" Lokken seethed. He rose to his feet and faced the towering general. "You're here for me, butcher. Me alone."
Suddenly Vorto understood. "Is that why you surrender? To spare your family, dog?"
Lokken grimaced. "Yes. Spare them, and no one else dies today. I can kill you now just with a word, Vorto. But I won't. Not if you agree to spare my kin." "It is for Heaven to judge, not I." "Spare them," Lokken begged, "and you can walk out of here alive. With your men."
Vorto's eyes narrowed. "Threats from a traitor. How horrible to hear."
"I'm no traitor," said Lokken. "I am loyal to our emperor and his memory. You're the usurper, Vorto. You and your bishop. Call it what you will, but I fly the flag of Nar."
"Oh, yes," crooned Vorto. "The flag. You're keen on flags, aren't you, Lokken?" Vorto turned to his waiting men. "Take him," he ordered. "The females, too."
At once his waiting legionnaires seized the royal family of Goth, dragging them after Vorto who was exiting the chamber.
"Not my family!" the duke cried as the men took hold of him. "God, not them!"
"God doesn't hear you,'" said Vorto over his shoulder. "Not them, please!"
"Not them," agreed Vorto. Outside the chamber he found the worried Larius again. The man looked about to faint. "Counselor, your master has something to tell you."
"Duke Lokken?" gasped Larius. "Tell him, Lokken. About our agreement..." Х Lokken looked relieved. He tried shrugging off the grasp of the soldiers, but they wouldn't yield. All the Gothan guardians watched their duke, their jaws slack. Duchess Kareena was in tears, as were her two children.
"Safe passage," said Lokken at last. "For all of them. If they let my family live, all of you will let them go. Promise me, Larius."
"My Duke..."
"Promise me!"
"Promise him," urged Vorto. "Or they all die right now. And even if you kill us, my legion will burn Goth to the ground."
"My Duke, it's your death. ..." Larius begged. "Don't make me do this."
Duke Lokken finally shook off his captors. When they tried to seize him again, Vorto put up a hand to stop them. He let the duke go to his man and clasp his hands firmly on the soldier's shoulders.
"I die," said the duke. "You hear me? I die. And no one else after me. Now promise me, my friend. Safe passage for these Naren beasts. It's my last order. Will you carry it out?"
Larius' expression collapsed. "I will, my Duke. My ... friend."
"No archers, no cavalry," pressed Vorto. "Nothing 'til we reach the gate, old man. Is that understood?"
"Aye," said Larius. "I hear you, Naren."
"Good for you." Vorto smiled sharply. "Then, to the tower. I want to see these flags of yours up close, Lokken. Take us there. Now."
Once again the soldiers tried to take hold of him, and once again the duke shrugged them off.
"I won't drag you if there's no need," said Vorto. "Or your bitches. Let's go."
Lokken took hold of his young wife's hand. "My love," he choked. "I'm so sorry I did this to you." He went down to his knees to his crying daughters, who looked to Vorto like twins of no more than four. The children didn't seem to know what was happening. He kissed them both on the forehead, wiped away their confused tears, then stood to face his executioner. "I'm ready."