Gonji: The Soul Within the Steel. T. C. Rypel

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СКАЧАТЬ “With all due respect, the honored counselor ignores certain facts: First, let it be made clear here that Vedun’s council sanctions no rebellious activity, certainly not murder. We are a Christian community, and murder is stringently proscribed by the tenets of our faith. Commander Ben-Draba was killed by a stranger. No one in the city ever saw him before—”

      “Lies,” Mord said flatly.

      “And may I add,” Flavio piped in, “that the boxing contests at the square were held at the insistence of the commander himself. The people were threatened for failure to participate.”

      “And the council had no part in the attack on the wyvern—” Milorad continued, as Mord interposed:

      “Lies—all lies!”

      “—why, the very sight of the flying monster is enough to send gentlefolk—”

      “You lie!” Mord fumed. “It is your intention to resist the king’s will and to provoke combat that will see an end to his ordained purpose.”

      “Enough!”

      Klann had been listening impatiently, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. Now he raised a huge red hand, and an uneasy quiet gripped the hall.

      “Suffice it to say that enough violence has been done on both sides and that we’ll have an end of it, here and now. I have lost a great field commander, true, and he will be missed. But it was not altogether unexpected. Ben-Draba’s impetuous nature and bull-headedness were bound to bring him to such an end sooner or later. And as for the wyvern—” Klann chortled. “—I must confess that I, too, might have shot at such a thing flying over my home for the first time!”

      A spate of laughter ran through the audience, and Mord’s eyes flared hotly. Flavio sensed a certain tension between the king and his court sorcerer, recalling that Baron Rorka had mentioned something of this.

      “But let that be the end of it,” Klann said as the laughter abated. “I trust that the bold adventurers involved witnessed the wyvern’s rather ghastly offensive—and I mean no pun there!—its monstrous offensive capabilities. We’ll have no more rebellious incidents.”

      “I’m quite sure you’re right, sire,” Flavio agreed. “But now I’ve been charged by the city to pursue certain grievances. I beg your indulgence. First, there is the matter of the threats against our worship of the Lord God. Specifically, the cross at the city square has been struck down—”

      “I gave no such order. I care nothing for your mode of worship, but it gives me no offense. Sianno—what of this accusation?”

      The captain lifted his palms in a gesture of confusion and eyed the other officers at the table.

      Then Mord spoke. “Milord, you signed the order. It was merely a routine threat against resistance, part of the standard security procedure in occupied territory.”

      Klann nodded curtly. “Yes-yes, so I did. Well, their Christian worship offers us no threat—unless it extends to raising another papist army such as the one which gave us such trouble in Austria! You may continue your worship unimpeded.”

      Flavio and Milorad exchanged a look of relief and triumph. Mord glowered down at them silently.

      Then, emboldened by this early victory, the Council Elder tactfully pursued other subjects of concern to the citizens of Vedun: recompense for the families of soldiers and citizens slain by Klann’s forces; aggression by the mercenaries; freedom for servants held at the castle against their will....

      * * * *

      Klann feigned patient indulgence of the bearded Elder as he prattled on. The king knew only too well the necessity for at least hearing the man out. A peaceful respite and recuperation in this province was dreadfully important right now. These people had to be placated. They could be most troublesome if they decided to bare their fangs while the army still licked its wounds.

      (don’t think such weak thoughts)

      (take a firm hand with them you’re a king)

      But it was exasperating, listening to the council Elder’s petty concerns....

      Recompense and conscripted servants, bullying in the streets—what do we care for these things?! We are king and as such are above the concerns of these small folk! (be just and merciful wisdom walks hand-in-hand with mercy) And what of those people Mord has taken for his foul purposes? What shall we tell them of those? Surely they’ll demand an answer soon enough. But what is that to us? What can they do about it? We are king; we have our own people to worry after. The problems of these provincials are as nothing to us. (correct be firm, stall them tell them what they want to hear) (no be just and compassionate)

      Be still, my brethren, be still....

      And then Klann saw the audacious one.

      He lurched to his feet and pointed past the Vedunian delegates to a table adjacent to theirs.

      “You, there! You in the dirty frock coat! How dare you? Guards, seize that man!”

      The hall fell silent as a garroted throat.

      As the pair of Llorm sentries rushed over, the singled-out mercenary wove to his feet, bleary-eyed from his wine, and held his hands out, palms up, in mute appeal.

      “Sire?” he slurred.

      “Were you not told that guns were forbidden within these halls?” Klann boomed.

      The soldier reached down and slapped the offending pistol at his side, a half-grin twisting his mouth. His eyes came wetly alight with remembrance and guilt.

      “I—I forgot, Milord King, that’s all,” he stuttered in Spanish. “But it’s not loaded or spannered and—and—”

      “Remove him!” Klann ordered. “And if we ever see you within the middle bailey of this castle again, your head will decorate the towers!”

      Then Klann settled himself, self-consciously rubbing his thighs as he sat back, and the buzz of voices and lilting strains of music gradually returned to normal.

      * * * *

      Eeyaaiii, but he’s a moody one, neh? Gonji thought, relief flooding him once the incident had ended. And that’s very bad in a king. Hai, very so.

      For an instant, when Klann had risen and pointed along Gonji’s table, the samurai had thought he was the one being singled out.

      But what did this obsession about firearms mean? Especially from a king whose army depended on them so. And was he truly a king at all? Gonji’s initial suspicion that Klann would turn out to be nothing more than a bandit warlord seemed to be vindicated by Klann’s appearance and mien. He had little to commend him as royalty.

      Gonji listened as Klann sidestepped Flavio’s appeals for redress and release of the conscripted servants. Flavio and Milorad clearly were less than enthusiastic about Klann’s declaration that he would take these matters under advisement. All the while Garth idly picked at his food as if it were the last meal of a condemned man.

      The samurai himself sampled a portion of most everything that passed his way. The pheasant was especially succulent, and the trout СКАЧАТЬ