"H. Beam Piper - The Space Viking" - читать интересную книгу автора (Piper H Beam)

"I could do it," Harkaman said. "He only has three hundred risen in this
company of his. Why you people ever let him recruit them Satan only knows," he
parenthesized. "I have eight hundred; five hundred ground-fighters. I'd like
to see how they shape up in combat, before we space out. I can have them ready
for action in two hours, and it'd be all over before midnight."

"No, Captain Harkaman; his Grace would never permit it," Grauffis vetoed. "You
have no idea of the political harm that would do among the independent lords
on whom we're counting for support. You weren't here on Gram when Duke Ridgerd
of Didreksburg had his sister Sancia's second husband poisoned."

IV

THEY HALTED under the colonnade; beyond, the lower main terrace
was crowded, and a medley of old love songs was wafting from the sound
outlets, for the sixth or eighth time around. Lucas looked at his watch; it
was ninety seconds later than the last time he had done so. Give it fifteen
more minutes to get started, and another fifteen to get away after the
marriage toasts and the felicitations. And no marriage, however pompous,
lasted more than half an hour. An hour, then, till he and Elaine would be in
the aircar, bulleting toward Traskon.

The love songs stopped abruptly; after a momentary silence, a trumpet,
considerably amplified, blared; the Ducal Salute. The crowd stopped shifting,
the buzz of voices ceased. At the head of the landing-stage escalators there
was a glow of color and the ducal party began moving

19

down. A platoon of guards in red and yellow, with gilded helmets and tasseled
halberds. An esquire bearing the Sword of State. Duke Angus, with his council,
Otto Harkaman among them; the Duchess Flavia and her companion-ladies. The
household gentlemen, and their ladies. More guardsmen. There was a great burst
of cheering; the news-service aircars got into position above the procession.
Cousin Nikkolay and a few others stepped out from between the pillars into the
sunlight; there was a similar movement at the other side of the terrace. The
ducal party reached the end of the central walkway, halted and deployed.

"All right; let's shove off," Cousin Nikkolay said, stepping forward.

Ten minutes since they had come outside; another five to get into position.
Fifty minutes, now, till he and Elaine, Lady Elaine Trask of Traskon, for real
and for always would be going home.

"Sure the car's ready?" he asked, for the hundredth time.

His cousin assured him that it was. Figures in Karvall black and flame-yellow
appeared across the terrace. The music began again, this time the stately
Nobles' Wedding March, arrogant and at the same time tender. Scsar Karvall's