"Leo Frankowski - Stargard 6 - Conrad's Quest for Rubber" - читать интересную книгу автора (Frankowski Leo)

CONRAD'S
QUEST FOR
RUBBER
Book Six of The Adventures of Conrad Stargard




Leo Frankowski




A Del Rey® Book
THE BALLANTINE PUBLISHING GROUP • NEW YORK
 Prologue

From the Diary of Conrad Stargard

FEBRUARY 10, 1246

WE DESTROYED the Teutonic Order four years ago, and since then things have gone remarkably
smoothly, especially when you compare them to the first ten years that I spent in this brutal century.
It wasn't easy to survive after I was accidentally shipped here from the twentieth century. I had to
prepare Poland for an invasion by the Mongol Empire, and then I had to direct the war after we were
invaded.
There were some tight spots, but we managed to win.
Now we are at peace. For the first time in a century, Poland is united, from the Baltic Sea to the
Carpathian Mountains, and from the Odra River to the Pripet Marshes. What's more, it had all been done
peacefully, voluntarily, and even eagerly, once the kings, dukes, and princes saw what my cannons
could do. Furthermore, Poland, Ruthenia, Hungary, and Bulgaria have joined together to form the
Federation of Christianity.
Our school system is being extended throughout Eastern Europe, as is our system of railroads, our
uniform system of measurements, and our uniform coinage.
We've seen interesting times, but thank God they are over. I haven't had to kill anyone in over three
years, and it feels good.
Sitting in my leather chair behind my nicely carved desk, I could see by the numbers before me that
the factories were running at full capacity, the army was expanding at an optimal rate, and our
concrete castle-building program was right on schedule.
Sweet success.
As I sat patting myself on the back, a young woman, one I didn't recognize, walked into my office.
She had huge green eyes, flaming red hair, and a full set of matching freckles. None of my wives,
friends, or current servants had such stunning coloration.
Without saying a word, she stamped the snow from her felt boots, shook the melted drops from her
heavy, fur-lined cloak, and hung it up on a wooden peg near the door.
"Excuse me? Should I know you?" I asked.
"Probably not, your grace, but we have met." She spoke Polish with a Hungarian accent. She took
off her felt overshoes, and then her slippers, and set them all neatly against the wall under her cloak.
"You are not being very helpful."
"Your grace, I hope to be very helpful," she said as she took off her belt. She rolled it up and put it