"David Weber - Worlds of Honor 4 - Service of the Sword" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weber David)

But then, Michael thought, the Faithful believe that temporal success is a reflection of God's
favor. Therefore, if someone has earned the right to travel in style, that's not an indulgence,
because God favors him and so would want him to travel better than his more sinful fellows.
As he settled into his own comfortable seat, the padding subtly conforming to his body to
absorb the worst of the shocks and jolts, Michael couldn't help but think of the women he'd seen
crammed into the standing carriages. It had been hard to tell, what with the heavy robes and
winter cloaks they all wore, but some of those women had walked as if they were pregnant.
Surely that alone was sufficient mortification of the flesh!
The curtains were drawn as soon as they were aboard the carriage, but Michael managed to
peek out and get some feeling for the various stations as they flashed by. There were no
advertisements, at least not in the sense there were on aggressively capitalist Manticore. Here the
posters and streamers exhorted the Faithful to remember their responsibilities to God, and to
those whom God had appointed to lead them on the path of righteousness. Printed in red or green
against black backgrounds, the texts shouted at the eye.

Serve the Lord with fear and rejoice with trembling. Psalms 1:4.

Blessed are all they that put their trust in Him. Psalms 2:12.

The memory of the just is blessed: but the name of the wicked shall rot. Proverbs 9:7.

The way of transgressors is hard. Proverbs 13:15.

Nor were these sayings repeated only once or twice. Michael counted the piece about
transgressors at least twenty different times. He thought there had been more, but apparently their
train had switched onto an express track. They gained speed, slowing less and less frequently
until, with a great squealing of brakes and a bone-jarring jolt, they came to a halt in a brightly lit,
cleanly tiled station.
"The Palace of the Just," their guide announced, a thrill of pride entering his voice. "Follow
me."
Michael did so, finding himself sandwiched neatly between Lawler and Cayen, Hill bringing
up the rear. The steps they climbed were carpeted, the handrails gilded. Soft droning chants, like
the voices of depressed angels came from hidden speakers.
Their guide stopped before an enormous door barred in gold.
"Your ambassador will meet you within. You will be given some time to pray and prepare for
your meeting with the Elders."
Without a further word, he turned away, and Michael couldn't help but feel he was eager to be
away from the contamination of their very presence.
***
At the appointed time, Judith began her deception. The usual attire for a Masadan woman was
a long robe that covered the wearer from head to foot. In public, a veil was also worn, though in
the shelter of the women's quarters this was not deemed necessary in any but the strictest
households.
The advantage of this was that disguise as other than a woman was very easy. No one
glimpsing someone in trousers and tunic saw anything but a male. To make matters even easier,
Masada's planetary climate in general was cold. Ephraim's holdings were in one of the northerly
reaches. A bulky coat and boots, both of which added to the concealment of a female form and
manner of moving, were routine.
Needless to say, this disguise would not work for every woman. Judith, naturally neat and
small-figured, could pass for a young man even without the coat. Although she had borne two