"De Camp, L Sprague - Reluctant King 1 - The Goblin Towe.textr" - читать интересную книгу автора (De Camp L Sprague)

Then came four beautiful young women, the king's wives. A fifth had given birth the day before and was judged not strong enough to attend the ceremony. The four present were gorgeous in silks and jewels and gold. After the wives came the shaven-headed, purple-robed high priest of Zevatas, the chief god of the Novarian pantheon; then a score of palace officials, and the ladies in waiting. Last of all came Kaeres the joiner, Xylar's leading director of funerals, and six cronies of the king carrying one of Kaeres' new coffins on their shoulders.

As the procession reached the foot of the scaffold, the band fell silent. After a low-voiced consultation, the Chief Justice mounted the steps of the scaffold, followed by two of the four halberdiers.

King Jorian kissed his four wives goodbye. They clung round his neck, weeping and covering his broad, heavy-featured face with kisses.

"Na, na," said Jorian in a heavy bass voice, with a rustic Kortolan accent. "Weep not, ma pretty lassies.

"The gods, who from their puerile pipes a billion bubbles blow,
Have blown us here. We waft and wobble, iridesce and glow,
Then burst; but from these pipes a billion bubbles more shall flow.

"Within the year, ye'll all have better husbands then I ever was to you."

"We do not wish other husbands! We love only you!" they wailed.

"But the weans needs must have stepfathers," he reminded them. "Now get 'along back to the palace, so as not to see your lord's blood flow. You, too, Estrildis."

"Nay!" cried the wife addressed though pretty, the least beautiful of the four, stocky and blue-eyed. "I will watch you to the end!"

"You shall do as I say," said Jorian gently but firmly. "You shall go on your own feet, or I will have you carried. Which shall it be?"

The two soldiers who had remained on the ground laid gentle hands on the woman's arms, and she broke away to run, weeping, after the others. Jorian called: "Farewell!" and turned back to the scaffold.

As the king mounted the stairs, his gaze roved hither and yon. He smiled and nodded as his eye caught those of acquaintances in the crowd. To many, he seemed altogether too cheerful for a man about to lose his head.

As, with a steady step, Jorian reached the platform of the scaffold, the two halberdiers who had preceded him snapped to attention and brought their right fists up to their chests, over their hearts, in salute. Behind him came the Mulvanian holy man and the high priest of Zevatas.

On the far, western side of the platform, a few feet from the edge, rose the block, freshly carved and shining with new red paint. Between the flagpoles on the western side, a length of netting, a yard high, was stretched to make sure that the head should not roll off the platform.

Leaning on his ax, the headsman stood beside the block. Like Jorian, he was stripped to breeks and shoes. Although not so tall as the king, the executioner was longer of arm and even more massive of torso. Despite the hood, Jorian knew that his slayer was Uthar the butcher, who kept a stall near the South Gate. Since Xylar was too small and orderly a city-state to support a full-time executioner, it hired Uthar from time to time for the task. Jorian had personally consulted the man before approving the choice.

"The great trick, Sire," Uthar had said, "be to let the weight of the ax do the work. Press not; give your whole attention to guiding the blade in its fall. A green headsman thinks he needs must help the blade; so he presses, and the stroke goes awry. The blade be heavy enough to sever any man's neck even so mighty a one as Your Majesty's if suffered to fall at its natural speed. I promise Your Majesty shan't feel a thing. Your soul will find itself in its next incarnation before you wite what has happened."

Jorian now approached the headsman with a grin on his face. "Hail, Master Uthar!" he cried in a hearty voice. "A lovely day, is it not? By Astis' ivory teats, if one must have one's head cut off, I can imagine no fairer day whereon to have the deed performed."

Uthar dropped to one knee. "You Your Majesty 'tis a fine day, surely Your Majesty will forgive me for any pain or inconvenience I cause him in the discharge of my duties?"

"Think nothing of it, old man! We all have our duties, and we all come to our destined ends. My pardon is yours, so long as your edge be keen and your arm be true. You promised that I should not feel a thing, remember? I shouldn't like you to have to strike twice, like a new recruit hacking at a pell."

Jorian turned to the Chief Justice. "Most eminent Judge Grallon, are you ready with your speech? Take a hint and make it not too long. Long speeches bore the hearer, be the speaker never so eloquent."

The Chief Justice looked uncertainly at Jorian, who indicated by a jerk of his head that he was to proceed. The magistrate pulled a scroll from his girdle and unrolled it. Holding the stick of the scroll in one hand and a reading glass in the other, he began to read. The wind whipped the dangling end of the scroll this way and that, hindering his task. Nevertheless, being familiar with the contents, he droned on.

Justice Grallon began with a resum6 of Xylarian history. Imbal the lion god had established this polis many centuries before; he had also bestowed upon it its unique method of choosing a ruler. The magistrate spoke of famous kings of Xylar: of Pellitus the Wise, and Kadvan the Strong, and Rhuys the Ugly.

At last, Judge Grallon came down to the reign of Jorian. He praised Jorian's bravery. He narrated the battle of Dol, when Jorian had destroyed the horde of robbers that had infested the southern marches of the kingdom and had acquired the scar on his face.

"& and so," he concluded, "this glorious reign has now come to the end appointed for it by the gods. Today the crown of Xylar shall pass, by the Lot of Imbal, into those hands destined by the gods to receive it. And we have been a true and virtuous folk, these hands will be strong, just, and merciful; if not not. The king will now receive his final consolation from his holy man."