"John Moore - Heroics for Beginners" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moore John)

He was tall, even taller than Kevin, who was by no means short. Square-jawed, muscular, with broad
shoulders—and the epaulets on his jacket made them seem even broader. He normally traveled in the
company of highly trained commandos called the Black Guards. Black Jack Logan, his men called him. It
was easy to see why. He had black eyes and black hair, cut short to keep the curls under control, and a
thick and precisely trimmed black beard. Brighter-than-regulation gold braid covered the sleeves of his
black wool uniform, and a double row of medals stretched across his left breast. He wore a collarless
shirt with a black silk cravat knotted around his neck, in the military style, and he wore a military sword.
His greeting to Kevin was curt, and the dislike showed plainly in his face.Logan had made it clear from
the start that he wanted this marriage, and he regarded each competing suitor the way a soldier regards
the enemy, as an obstacle to be destroyed or circumvented by the most expedient means. Prince Kevin,
for his part, gave no indication that he was in a competition at all. He gave the soldier a cheery smile and
respectful bow.

"As I was saying, the proper disposition of troops along the border is paramount in the defense of a
country like Deserae."Logan had been discoursing on military preparedness. He picked up the thread of
conversation again. "You don't want to station all your forces on the outposts. Especially in mountainous
terrain like yours. You want to keep troops where they can be rapidly shifted to cover breakthroughs. If
you stop them in the passes, they'll only pull back and try again. To destroy an enemy's army, you have
to lure it onto the plains, where you can maneuver."

Bigelow looked bored. Harkness had his eyes on a girl in a low-cut gown. But two members of
Deserae's ruling council were followingLogan 's words carefully. Baron Ashbury was white-haired,
elderly, and stout, and Lord Hepplewhit was white-haired, elderly, and thin. "Lord Logan has been telling
us of some of his victories," Ashbury explained to Kevin.

"Of which he has many," Kevin said. "Your reputation has spread even to my own country, Lord
Logan."Logan barely acknowledged his words.

"I was thinking that his is the sort of leadership we need in Deserae," said Hepplewhit to Kevin.
"Consider our situation. Bordering on the frontier, we get all sorts of nasties coming over the mountains.
And our location makes us a temptation for other countries with an eye to expand."

It was true. Deserae had a strategic location between two major rivers, and the easiest pass through the
northern mountains ended at its border. "Rassendas has many experienced generals. My father, of
course, is eager to form a treaty of mutual defense with Deserae.Under the right circumstances." Kevin
added this last bit offhandedly, not making a point of what those conditions were.Logan glared at him
anyway.

"Wine, yes, thank you," said Bigelow. He was talking to a white-jacketed steward, who proffered him a
tray. He swirled the glass of deep purple liquid and tasted it. "Good wine, this."

"Imported from Rassendas," said Hepplewhit, as each of the other men took a glass. "You don't care for
it, Lord Logan?"

"It is adequate for cooking, perhaps."Logan put his glass, barely tasted, back on the tray. "I'm afraid that
the wines of Rassendas cannot compare to the full-bodied wines of Angostura. Like many of the
products of Rassendas, they tend to be immature and weak."
 There was certainly insult in this. The group fell silent, a small pocket of quiet in the surrounding
conversational hubbub, waiting to hear how Kevin would respond. Bigelow especially let his eyes flick to
Kevin's waist, noted that the Prince was not wearing a sword, and gave a speculative glance at the heavy