"Lawrence Watt-Evans - Ethshar 3 - The Unwilling Warlord" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watt-Evans Lawrence)

defer to him. He had always settled for simple tolerance, which was all a
tavern gambler or street brat could reasonably ask.
There was something very seductive about the thought of a woman unable to
leave his room until he granted permission. Admittedly, the aging and
irritable Lady Kalira was not herself seductive in the least, but the idea of
such power certainly had its appeal.
But it came with the job of warlord, with all the unknown hazards and
duties that must surely imply. War meant swords and blood and death and
killing, and he wanted no part of it.
But Semma had been at peace since twenty years before he was born. Maybe
he could defend it without fighting any wars, as his immediate predecessor,
the great-uncle he had never known, had.
"My lord," Alder said, startling him from his muddled thoughts, "shall I
hang this in the wardrobe?" He held up one of Sterren's old tunics.
"Yes," Sterren said. He took a sudden interest in his belongings, seeing
that everything went somewhere appropriate, and that he knew how the room was
arranged. It was becoming clear that, barring the unforeseen, he was going to
be staying for quite some time.
He was unsure, now, whether that was good news or bad.


CHAPTER 6

He pushed away the plate and stood up. Alder looked up, startled, and
began, "My lord--"
"Oh, go ahead and eat," Sterren said crossly. He was already getting
tired of the strange new deference paid him. Alder had just started to eat,
but he was obviously ready to leap up and follow orders, should his warlord
care to give any.
His warlord did not. His warlord was feeling very much out of place. His
moods kept swinging back and forth. This room, and title, and rank were all
very well, and could be a lot of fun, but they also seemed to be permanent and
involuntary, which could be tiresome, quite aside from the accompanying
responsibilities and risks. It was clear, despite the submissive gestures from
Alder and Lady Kalira, that he was still something of a prisoner; if he tried
to just walk out of the castle and head back toward Ethshar, he was quite sure
that Alder or Dogal or both would follow him and probably stop him before he
got out of the village.
And he was tired of seeing Alder and Dogal, after several days spent
traveling in their close, very close, company.
At least Lady Kalira was gone, and he would be meeting other people soon.
Of course, that, too, had both its appealing and frightening aspects.
These people were barbarians, not Ethsharites; he was sure that he was not
what anybody expected in a warlord and he had no idea just how the Semmans
might deal with his shortcomings. That mention of summary execution, back in
the tavern on Bargain Street, had stayed with him, always somewhere in the
back of his mind.
Dogal and Alder had eaten in turns, and Dogal was now guarding the door,
keeping Sterren's officers, who had arrived a moment earlier, waiting in the
hall.