"S. M. Stirling - Draka 05 - Drakas!" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stirling S. M)

devoured by the relentless Draka beast. He was tired of the military, anyway. As he'd learned during his
tenure as Governor-General of the Sudan, all the blood, sweat, and tears in the world mattered nought
when politicians arbitrarily drew lines on maps and instituted policy with eyes solely on their
pocketbooks.

After he'd resigned his commission in the British Army, Gordon, recalling conversations he'd had as a
young man with de Lesseps, the father of the Suez Canal, decided that his legacy to the world would be
what he now thought of as "The Plan," a scheme to dam the Nile River and make it the longest navigable
waterway in the world. Since the Draka now owned the Nile like they owned the rest of Africa, Gordon
had to plead his case before them. They were good listeners, but tightfisted with both money and
authority. Von Shrakenberg was sympathetic to Gordon's Plan, but by no means was he the only Draka
whom Gordon had to convince of its feasibility.

To this end Gordon had suffered endless discussion, debate, and formal dinners. This night Gordon's
immediate table companions were sisters of Edith von Shrakenberg, his host's wife. Both were young,
lean, beautiful, and much too predatory for Gordon's comfort. Katharine, on Gordon's left, was
unmarried. Amelia, on his right, was married to the merarch who sat across the table from Gordon, but
that didn't prevent her from sending welcoming glances Gordon's way. He did his best to ignore her, but
almost dropped his fork when during the peacock pie she put a hand under the table high up on his inner
thigh.

Before Gordon could think of a suitable remonstrance, her sister Katharine said suddenly, "You have the
clearest, bluest eyes I have ever seen, Strategos Gordon, and such fine hair and features. We could have
beautiful children together."

"Ah, er." He firmly grasped the hand massaging his leg under the table and removed it from his thigh.
"Well, er. I am retired from the military," he said stiffly. "Just call me, ah, Charles."

"Charles." Katharine purred like a cat, licking her lips at the taste of his name, the tip of her pink tongue
visible behind her even white teeth.

Gordon had the sudden vision of another hand reaching under the table towards his body, and barely
suppressed a shiver. He looked urgently about for a means of escape. Fortunately the dinner finally
seemed to be on the verge of breaking up, but then he'd be forced to endureтАФ

"Now Katharine, Amelia . . ." Somehow Edith von Shrakenberg had come up unnoticed behind them,
pushing her ungainly stomach ahead of her like a tug chivvying a laden barge. She was grossly pregnant,
looking as if she would drop the baby at any moment. "We can't monopolize the field marshall's time, I'm
afraid."

Gordon got hastily to his feet. He was a short man, not much taller than his pregnant hostess, and much
slighter than her in her current state.

"I no longer use military titles," he said, with more than a little relief in his voice. He smiled. "Besides,
neither China or the Ottoman Empire hardly exists any more. They've both been swallowed by your
Domination."

Edith von Shrakenberg smiled prettily. "Politics." She waved it away. "I have other things on my mind
lately. Ooohhh."