"part2" - читать интересную книгу автора (Keith Brooke - Lord of Stone)

dismembered. Bligh remembered seeing a painting of this
square, from before the War. They had come here, now, to look
for somewhere to stay.

To one side of Settlement Square was a low, imposing
building, its windows boarded and its brickwork scarred with
artillery wounds and scorch marks. It was the Metropolitan
Hotel. It looked to be closed but even if it had been open
the prices would have been to high for Bligh and Madeleine.

They walked across to the fallen, partially dismembered
monarch and Madeleine said, "I was five when King Elleo died.
All of Dona-Jez went into mourning, but that was only show -
for the patricians and their police. Behind closed shutters
the men got drunk and the women danced on tables and for
months the police picked on people for no reason at all,
other than to show that they were still in charge."

"And now that is all gone," said Bligh. "The people are in
charge and the statues lie broken in the streets. Do you not
feel something awakening inside you ... a new spirit trying
to break free?"

"The fight isn't over yet," said Madeleine. "There's still
more blood to flow."

"Don't you feel the energy of it all?" He did not know how
else to put it, the sense of awakening he had experienced as
he first crossed the border into Trace. It had felt like some
strange kind of homecoming.

He took Madeleine by the hand and led her unsteadily over the
remains of the fallen king and across between the two
fountains to the street, where they had to slow in order to
pass between a tram and a loaded motor wagon. They stopped
outside the Hotel Adernis, smaller than the Metropolitan but
with a dilapidated air of its own permanence that Bligh
sensed instantly was more promising.

Inside, there was a cramped lobby with leather upholstered
seats and a worn-smooth carpet. A small UPP banner was draped
across the front of the reception desk. The price was
reasonable, and Bligh chose not to haggle.

The manager left them in their top floor room with the
recommendation of ear-plugs if the shelling from across the
river became too intrusive.

By now it was dusk and they stood looking out of the window,
across the rooftops to the older quarter of Anasty, where