"Julian May - Boreal Moon 01 - Conqueror's Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (May Julian)
Julian, May - Boreal Moon 01 - Conqueror's Moon
Conrig said, “Before answering that question, Earl Marshal, I must impart to you melancholy tidings. Since you’ve been busy for the past months keeping Great Pass secure from
bandits and Didionite incursions, you may not know that King Olmigon has lately experienced a worsening of that abdominal rupture which has so long afflicted him. The royal
alchymists are zealously applying both natural science and sorcery, but the latterday weight-gain of my father makes treatment more difficult than in past years.” He took a poker and
pulled the smoldering logs together so that they might burn better. “King Olmigon is in great pain much of the time. He continues to conduct important state business from his bed,
however, refusing medicine that he fears might dull his mind, even as the suffering itself prevents him from straight thinking. Queen Cataldise is at his side day and night.”
Dying! They all had the identical thought.
The prince turned about and let his eyes rove slowly over those seated. “However, my lady Maudrayne has sent to Tarn for a healer of special talent, and if God wills, the King’s
Grace will be restored to health. I command you not to broadcast tidings of his sad disability beyond this room. Only keep him in your prayers.”
And remember who it is that will succeed to the throne of Cathra when Olmigon does sing his Deathsong.
Nods and murmurs.
“It was my personal decision,” Conrig continued, “as well as that of a certain other high-ranking member of the Privy Council, not to trouble the king with this new matter until I
have consulted with you all and determined whether or not the invasion proposal is practicable. As Lord Constable of the Realm, acting with the covert approval of Chancellor
Falmire, who is the only one of my father’s advisers with the brains to understand the situation, I have the power to summon this extraordinary council of war. The persons I chose to
invite are those in a unique position to render service to Cathra—to redress the atrocious insult done to our kingdom by Didion, and assure the security of the entire island.”
Whisperings. None of them were fools. Unlike the intrepid northerners, who had always borne the brunt of defending Cathra’s border, the lords of the south had grown complacent
and soft from long years of martial inactivity. They were businessmen, tending to their varied commercial ventures, not fighters. With the coming of the Wolf’s Breath, worried by
training their knights and thanes as an invasion host.
“As you all know,” Conrig continued, after a pause, “the impetus for the Edict of Sovereignty came originally from me. From my youth I have idolized Emperor Bazekoy the Great,
who unified the nations of the mainland, brought civilization to our own island, and chose to die here for love of it. It has long been my dream to bring all of Blenholme together and
return it to the glory of Bazekoy’s time.”
“The Emperor,” Munlow Ramscrest grumbled, “has been dead for over a thousand years… most of him, at any rate! And the Blenholme of his day no more resembles our own than
children’s fables resemble the sacred Chronicle.”
“Count Ramscrest speaks the unwelcome truth, as usual,” the prince conceded, to universal amusement. “Our world is more densely populated and our politics more complex.
Nevertheless, even the marble-domes on my father’s Privy Council eventually agreed that the time was ripe for a move to Sovereignty. Three years of the Wolf’s Breath have
brought tragedy to Blenholme—but also an unprecedented opportunity. Didion is at the brink of civil war. The gold-coffers of the Sealords of Tarn are near empty with the closing of
the mines. Even in Moss—”
“Who cares about Moss?” Baron Wanstantil Cloudfell sneered. He was a haughty beanpole who dressed with great elegance and affected a foppish manner. “Let the Conjure-King
use sorcery to make the sun shine on his stinking swamps, and may he have much joy in the fulfillment. My prince, don’t tell me you’d bother taking that soggy nest of magical
mountebanks into the Sovereignty!”
“As it happens, Lord Cloudfell, the kingdom of Moss would play a crucial role in unifying Blenholme.”
“The hell you say!” Beorbrook exclaimed. “Does this scheme of yours depend on vile Mossback enchantments, then?”
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Julian, May - Boreal Moon 01 - Conqueror's Moon
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