"Joel Rosenberg - 04 - The Heir Apparent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rosenberg Joel C)

"EmpтАФ"

"That's me," Karl said, reaching into the cloth bag at his waist and pulling out the silver crown of Bieme.


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He set it on his head. "The one and only."

Now, I want a broad relay to everyone in the castle.

*Station Kay Ay Ar Ell, the voice of the Emperor of Holtun-Bieme, is now on the air,* Ellegon answered
back, as the dragon landed noisily on the ramparts above them.

"My name is Karl Cullinane," he said quietly, knowing that Ellegon would add the proper volume as he
relayed the thoughts, "I am Prince of Bieme, conqueror of Holtun, and Emperor of Holtun-Bieme, and I
want to see Baron Arondael, now."

He unbolted the door and kicked it open for Tennetty and the rest to follow. "And in case anyone has any
foolish idea, I've summoned a sufficient force to tear this castle down to the bare stones. Anyone who
gets in my way is dead."

Next step. Karl closed his eyes.

*Here goes.* A dark shadow passed high overhead, only to be relieved by dazzling brightness as
Ellegon's flame lit up the night. Relay: "Into the courtyard, everyone. Now."

In moments, the entire keep had stumbled out, soldiers numbly clawing for their armor and weapons,
servants and children in their night tunics.

Including Arrifezh, Baron Arondael.

The rapier-slim man rubbed a gnarled fist against eyes that hadn't yet noticed they weren't sleepy
anymore.

"Good morning, Baron," Karl Cullinane said, raising his voice. "And good morning all. Every man,
woman, and child, regardless of rank, who is not in rebellion against their prince and emperor, will now
kindly lay down any arms and kneel." He sheathed his sword and folded his hands over his chest. "I said
now."

Tennetty brought up her rifle and took careful aim at the middle of the baron's nose. "Starting with you,
Baron," she muttered in a low voice. "We start with you, one way or another."

Karl's soldiers following the baron's example, the several hundred people in the courtyard bent like a sea
of wheat in the wind.

"That's fine. Up, all of you."