"Christopher Stasheff - Warlock 13 - Warlock's Last Ride" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stasheff Christopher)

trumpets pealed their joy. The archbishop cleared his throat and turned away, taking off his mitre and
handing it to an acolyte, then trudging back up the stairs to the high altar to begin the nuptial Mass, as
more acolytes brought out six kneelers for the brides and the grooms.

Either the Mass was short—which Rod doubted, since it was a solemn high Mass—or his time
sense had slowed down, making everything a blur; it seemed only minutes until the three couples were
standing, the women relaxed and joyful with their veils folded back, and the organ burst forth in
Mendelsohn's notes of rejoicing, as the three grooms, laughing and chatting with their brides, descended
the stairs to the aisle and fairly floated down that long avenue to the great oaken portal.

THERE WAS MUCH more, of course—a banquet in the Great Hall of the royal palace for all the
nobility; dancing afterwards, with the three young couples leading and Rod having his first waltz with
Cordelia since she had grown too big to stand on his toes; the wine flowing freely and the younger
nobility becoming rather rowdy, on the verge of bearing the three couples away to a bridal night that
would have had spectators—a must for royal weddings in the middle ages, when virginity was vital to be
sure the heir was really of the royal line. But at that point, Gwendylon wound her way magically through
the throng and assembled all three couples on the dais that held the high table. The bridesmaids and
other young women lined up facing them, chattering eagerly, forcing the young men back a little, and
the throng began to count: "One … two … three!"

All three brides tossed their bouquets high, and the young women pushed and shoved to catch
them. Then, the ceremony of the garter not having spread to Gramarye, the three young couples waved
at their contemporaries, calling their thanks and farewells—and with the resounding of triple
firecrackers, disappeared.

The hall fell silent for a moment, for even the people of Gramarye were still unnerved by
teleportation, or any of the other psi powers they thought of as witchcraft.

Besides, they'd been robbed of the erotic riot they'd been planning.


So talk began, gathering anger—but King Tuan stepped forth, smiling with good cheer, hands
upheld, and the crowd grew silent. "Each bride has gone with her groom to the love nest each couple has
selected," he explained, "but there is wine aplenty and sweetmeats besides, so though they may seek

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their beds, there is no reason why you should. Musicians, play!"

A sprightly tune sprang up from the musicians' gallery, and the nobility turned, not without a little
grumbling, to the quick steps of the dance. In minutes, they had forgotten their disappointment at having
been robbed of their shivaree and were cheering with gladness.

"It is done, then," Gwen said, her hand on Rod's arm. "We have spirited them away to privacy,
thank Heaven!"

"Not without quite an input of psionic power from their mother," Rod said with a knowing smile.

"I may have helped in some small way," Gwen admitted. "Lead me back to our place at the high