Krispos Rising
- Автор: Тертлдав Гарри Норман
- Серия: The Tale of Krispos #1
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Альтернативная история
Электронная книга - «Krispos Rising». Краткое содержание книги:
Driven by crushing taxes from the farm where his family had lived—and died—Krispos had come to the. city seeking what fortune a good mind and a strong back could earn. He had a single goldpiece to his name—the gift, years past, of a nomad chieftain to a ragged peasant boy. Now, though the night was raw and the inn was warm, he was loath to spend that coin, for the barbarian had claimed it carried magic.
Keep his lucky goldpiece or trade it for a warm, dry bed? Krispos tucked the coin away and stepped back into the wet streets—all unaware that so simple a choice would lead to a world of peril and possibility....
As he turned back to Gnatios, he listened to the crowd. No thunderous outpouring of applause, but he hadn't expected one, not after the patriarch ambushed him into coming up with a speech on the spot. But no one jeered or booed or hissed. He'd got through it and hadn't hurt himself. That was plenty.
Gnatios realized it, too. He masked himself well, but could not quite hide his disappointment. "Carry on, most holy sir," Krispos said coldly.
"Yes, of course, your Majesty." Gnatios nodded, bland still.
He raised his voice to speak to the crowd rather than the Emperor. "Bow your head for the anointing."
Krispos obeyed. The patriarch drew the stopper from the vial of scented oil and poured its contents over Krispos' head. He spoke the ritual words: "As Phos' light shines down on us all, so may his blessings pour down on you with this anointing."
"So may it be," Krispos responded, though as he did, he wondered whether a prayer had to be sincerely meant to be effective. If so, Phos' ears were surely closed to Gnatios' words. The patriarch rubbed the oil through Krispos' hair with his right hand. While he completed the anointing, he recited Phos' creed, intoning, "We bless thee, Phos, Lord with the great and good mind, by thy grace our protector, watchful beforehand that the great test of life may be decided in our favor."
Krispos echoed the prayer, which, since it did not mention him, he supposed the patriarch truly meant. The city folk gathered in the forecourt below also recited the creed. Their voices rose and fell like surf, individual words lost but the prayer's rhythm unmistakable.
And then, at last, Gnatios took the imperial crown in both hands and set it on Krispos' lowered head. It was heavy, literally as well as for what it meant. A sigh ran through the crowd. A new Avtokrator ruled Videssos.
After a moment, the noise began to build again, to a crest of acclamation: "Thou conquerest!" "Krispos!" "Many years!" "Krispos!" "Hurrah for the Emperor!" "Krispos!" "Krispos!" "Krispos!"
He straightened. Suddenly the crown seemed to weigh nothing at all.