"Wil McCarthy - To Crush the Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCarty Sarah)

"Always a pleasure, coming here," Radmer says. "The Imbrians of Timoch are such a fine, appreciative
people."

For a moment, Bruno toys with the idea of unveiling his true identity. Perhaps the shock value will defuse
this situation, and get the Olders inside without bloodshed. Then again, he would be a figure as remote in
the Imbrians' past as Aristotle and Alexander were in his own. Would they believe him? Would they
recognize his name, or understand its burden of significance? Would they even care?

He is spared any further thought on the matter when a voice from atop the wall calls out "Glints!" in a
tone that registers panic across all possible dialects. Bruno turns, looking back across the sloping plains
he and Radmer have just crossed at considerable peril. And indeed, yes, the enemy is still at work out
there: he sees the unmistakable glints and flashes of sunlight on superreflective impervium. Less than five
kilometers away. Less than two.

Behind him, a ripple of concern passes through the Dolceti.

"You must attack," Radmer says, simply and without fear. "They're only scouts, but they're right here,
barely a rifle's reach from your capital gates. And if they report back, the Glimmer King will know I've
been to Varna and back in a sphere of brass. He'll know I came here afterward. Assuming he doesn't
know it already."

"Varna is in outer space," the Dolceti captain replies, as if to a child's bad joke.

"Aye," says Radmer. "I had to launch from Tillspar, over Highrock Divide. All I can say is, thank God for
pulleys. You might be interested in my catapult, by the way; properly cocked it can bombard any point
on this planette's surface."
"You lie," says a voice in the crowd somewhere.

"Do I? For what purpose?" Radmer's tone is patient. "The enemy is that way, friend, and if you swear
this man's safety"--he points at Bruno--"upon all that is holy and dear, then I will fight at your side to
defend these ill-forged walls."

The captain is angry but not stupid; he considers the offer, considers the evidence before him. "What's
special about this man?"

"Wisdom," Radmer answers. "And if you will not pledge his safe conduct to the Furies, then you'll have
two enemies, and no friends, and soon no country to defend."

"Very diplomatic," the captain grumbles, then steps forward to offer his hand. "I'm Bordi, grandson of
Petro."

The two men shake on it, prompting Sidney Lyman to mutter, "You'll be the death of me, General. But I'll
not let you enter this fight by yourself."

"Nor I," says the Older named Brian, and the others grunt in assent.

"Natan," says Bordi, gesturing sharply to one of the taller Dolceti. "Stay here, you and Zuq. Guard this
Older, this font of wisdom, until I return."