"Mitchell Smith - Kingdom River" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Mitchell)

commander, must get back to work.
Ned wouldn't much mind the missing hand. He'd have a bright steel hook made, to wear and flourish
with a piratical air, like the corsairs in that most wonderful of children's Warm-time copybooks.
Sam stepped outside the tent. Afternoon, and the morning wasted. "Fass!" What in hell was the
other man's name?
"Sir?"
"Colonel Voss to report to me."
"Sir."
 "The Rascobs as well."
"Sir — the brigadiers rode out of camp a while ago. Rode north."
And no good-byes. The old men were still angry. And were about to be made much angrier.

CHAPTER 4

"Chancellor Razumov, have you read this?" The Lord of Grass, at ease on a window couch in the
Saffron Room of Lesser Audience, shook sheets of poor paper gently, the slight breeze disturbing the
prairie hawk that perched on his other forearm.
"Yes, my lord." The chancellor, very fat, still made an easy half-bow of continued attention. Tiny
bells tinkled down the closure of his yellow robe.
"And your opinion of our fugitive librarian's report?"
"Accurate, from what we know otherwise. It describes minor — though formidable — rule, ruler,
and ruled. Certainly to be taken into account as they lie along the Khanate's southern flank, and might
disturb your movement against Middle Kingdom. Still… perhaps not so formidable, lord, since the
librarian writes they've lost a skirmish to the Empire, apparently just before his message left their camp. A
Light-Cavalry matter, but still a loss."
"Yes... Perhaps a loss, perhaps not." The Lord of Grass exchanged glances with his hawk. The
open window's autumn sunlight, dappled through figured fine-cotton curtains, seemed to stir across them
in a chill breeze.
"Certainly a defeat, my lord, according to accounts, according to the Boston people as well."
"A defeat, but perhaps not a loss. Tell me, Razumov, how best does one prepare winners to
continue winning?"
"By the victories themselves, lord."
"Oh, no. Victory's lessons are few — but defeat's are many. Something we might well keep in
mind.... I believe our commonsensical Captain-General of North Map-Mexico has deliberately made a
false demonstration to us of his apparent limitations in command... and at the same time has taught a hard
lesson to his army, particularly his Light Cavalry — our principal arm, by no coincidence. He has taught
them a painful first lesson in the uncertainties of war."
"An expensive lesson, surely. We understand there were heavy losses."
"And so, all the more effective." The hawk shifted on the Grass Lord's arm. "Though, since the loss
was so heavy, I suspect it will be quickly followed by a triumph in revenge."
"But lord, is the young man that clever?"
"Perhaps not, Razumov. Perhaps only that sensible.... This damned bird has shit on my sleeve."

***

An Entry…. As I have been appointed the role of historian, librarian, and informational to the young
Captain-General, I feel it behooves me — what a Warm-time word! 'Behoove.' Its dictionary definition,
of course — but also perhaps as in shoeing a horse, preparing for an action, a journey? So much we will
never know....
Still, as occasional historian of Lord Monroe's rule, it behooves me to make my entries on our