"Shirley Meier & S. M. Stirling - Fifth Millenium 05 - Shadow's Son" - читать интересную книгу автора (Meier Shirley)

Koru. Megan put her tankard down. No news had ever sobered her so quickly. Not only had they
made it to the border, theyтАЩd decided to cross: Yeolis, who had a custom, held for centuries, against
being the aggressor. This hot king with all his alliances and mercenaries was marching on Arko.
тАЬSheepshit,тАЭ ShkaiтАЩra was yelling, тАЬShтАЩour chance!тАЭ
Megan calculated. They had maybe forty thousand, by IvahnтАЩs last estimate, and the songтАЩs. The
Arkans claimed they could field a rejin of rejins, a million. But she remembered a night at a river-port,
Sarngeld speaking with some Aenir, a mercenary by his words. тАЬThere hasnтАЩt been a rejin of rejins for a
good hundred years. The story just sticks in peopleтАЩs heads. The Arkans, Kurkas no less than his
forebears, let things go, so now thereтАЩs maybe five hundred rejins, spread out all over.тАЭ
Five hundred thousand. How many were locked up fighting the Srians, the Kurkanians, guarding
the northern border and patrolling the Mitvald, fighting the Lakans on their border, since King Astalaz of
Laka had broken his peace-treaty with Arko, to ally with Yeola-e? There had been no word from
Kurkania for a good two years, a good sign Arko was losing there. Say forty thousand against, at
most, one hundred thousand, she thought. A little better, but ... Wait, IтАЩm not counting those huge
losses in the winter. Say forty thousand against sixty. And the forty thousand might not even be
right anymore; Ivahn gave me that number a while back, and winning invading armies donтАЩt
shrink, but grow.
It was a chance. The eagle could be stung to death by the wasp, if the wasp flew quickly enough. If
they had good generalling, damn good generalling, which supposedly they did.
Joyful stamping shook the floor. The bard had been lucky to be the first here with this; people were
throwing him copper Claws. Everyone seemed happy except the Arkans, who looked like their dearest
wish would be invisibility. One, a middle-aged fellow in Arkan issue armor that was obviously repainted,
ground his face into the table in a most un-Arkan way.
People pelted the bard with questions as well as money.
тАЬWhat happened in the last battle?тАЭ
тАЬIt was a rout, what else?тАЭ
тАЬHow many did the Arkans lose?тАЭ
тАЬThousands. The rest scattered, or got thumbed.тАЭ
тАЬHad their sword-hand thumbs cut off,тАЭ Megan explained to ShkaiтАЩra. тАЬA quaint Yeoli custom.тАЭ
тАЬWhat about Kranaj and Astalaz?тАЭ said someone else. тАЬAre they going to invade too?тАЭ
тАЬI havenтАЩt heard.тАЭ
тАЬSo how big armies are they going to send?тАЭ
тАЬI just told you, sparrow-brain, I havenтАЩt heard!тАЭ
тАЬKranazzh and Aztalazzh?тАЭ ShkaiтАЩra hissed over the din.
тАЬKings of Laka and Tor Ench, respectively,тАЭ Megan stage-whispered back.
тАЬAre they still hiring mercenaries?тАЭ About ten people asked that, all at once, along with the rate of
pay.
тАЬApply at the embassy,тАЭ the bard said. тАЬYouтАЩd have to move it to catch up with the army from here,
though. This news is a few days old now, and with Chevenga, fast-march is fast-march.тАЭ That armyтАЩs
grown by about ten just here, tonight, Megan thought.
тАЬZhvтАЩnghkua,тАЭ said ShkaiтАЩra. тАЬThatтАЩs the hot Yeoli king, hmm?тАЭ
тАЬDah. Fourth Shchevenga.тАЭ IvahnтАЩs letters had mentioned the name, with the formal number tacked
on front and the impossible-to-remember-let-alone-pronounce surname and titles behind, but MeganтАЩs
eyes had skimmed over it.
Now it snagged her memory. тАЬWait a moment!тАЭ That name ... it had been in older news that had
come up the river. тАЬHeтАЩs dead.тАЭ
Fourth Chevenga was the Yeoli king who got captured by the Arkans, made to fight in their
arena, and given some kind of circus execution, she thought. Yes, dammit, IтАЩm not remembering
wrong, it was Fourth, Fourth Chevenga. Fifty thousand people had witnessed his death.
тАЬFuckinтАЩ lively corpse,тАЭ ShkaiтАЩra said drily.