Joel Rosenberg - Omnibus 02 - Legacy

VIP免费

2024-12-23 0 0 1.14MB 359 页 5.9玖币

侵权投诉

Guardians of the Flame -

Legacy

Table of Contents

The Heir Apparent

CHAPTER ONE:

CHAPTER TWO:

CHAPTER THREE:

CHAPTER FOUR:

CHAPTER FIVE:

CHAPTER SIX:

CHAPTER SEVEN:

CHAPTER EIGHT:

CHAPTER NINE:

CHAPTER TEN:

CHAPTER ELEVEN:

CHAPTER TWELVE:

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

CHAPTER FIFTEEN:

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:

CHAPTER NINETEEN:

CHAPTER TWENTY:

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE:

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX:

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN:

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT:

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE:

CHAPTER THIRTY:

EPILOGUE:

The Warrior Lives

PART ONE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

INTERLUDE

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

PART TWO

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

PART THREE

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

INTERLUDE

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

INTERLUDE

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

PART FOUR

CHAPTER 27

Guardians of the Flame: Legacy

by Joel Rosenberg

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any

resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

Rosenberg.

A Baen Books Original Megabook

Baen Publishing Enterprises

P.O. Box 1403

Riverdale, NY 10471

www.baen.com

ISBN: 0-7434-8829-6

Cover art by Monty Moore

First Megabook printing, June 2004

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Distributed by Simon & Schuster

1230 Avenue of the Americas

New York, NY 10020

Production by Windhaven Press, Auburn, NH

Printed in the United States of America

Baen Books by Joel Rosenberg

The Guardians of the Flame

Guardians of the Flame: Legacy

Paladins(forthcoming)

The Heir Apparent

Vol. 4 of

The Guardians

of the Flame

I'd like to thank the people who made it possible for me to write this one: Harry Leonard, my favorite

quibbler; Kat Martinez, cat-sitter extraordinaire; all the able people at Bulldog Computers; Bob Wallace,

for inventing PC-Write; Ron Pastore, who keeps the mill; my agent, Richard Curtis; my new editor, John

Silbersack, who has proved himself both remarkably capable and inhumanly patient; and my friend and

former editor Sheila Gilbert, who still watches out for me.

As usual, I'm particularly grateful to my cats Bubbles, Squish, and Amy Surplus—who don't understand

why—and my wife, Felicia, who does.

This one is for the Student Union Rats:

Marty,

Spring,

Bob,

Frank,

Laurie,

Paul,

Sherry,

Dori,

Harry,

Norm,

John,

Bill . . . and me, for that matter.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Karl Cullinane—Prince of Bieme and Emperor of Holtun-Bieme

Andrea Andropolous Cullinane—wizard, teacher, Princess of Bieme and Empress of Holtun-Bieme,

Karl Cullinane's wife

Tennetty—warrior, Karl Cullinane's bodyguard

Ellegon—ayoung dragon

Garavar—general of the House Guard

Arrifezh, Baron Arondael

Thomen, Baron Furnael—Biemish baron; judge

Beralyn, Dowager Baroness of Furnael—Thomen Furnael's mother

Enrel—Thomen's bailiff

Vilmar, Baron Nerahan—Holtish baron

Kevalun—Biemish general, military governor of barony Nerahan

Ranella—master engineer

Nartham—soldier of the House Guard

Aravam, Bibuz—journeyman engineers

Kethol, Pirojil, Durine—warriors of the House Guard

U'len—chief cook at Biemestren castle

Jimuth and Kozat—U'len's assistants

Jayar—senior journeyman engineer; engineer duty officer at Biemestren Castle

Garthe, Gashier, Danagar—three of Garavar's sons, soldiers

Hivar—Furnael family retainer

Listar, Baron Tyrnael—Biemish baron

Kirling—a minor noble of barony Tyrnael

Yryn—Slavers' Guildmaster

Ahrmin, Lucindyl, Wencius—master slavers

Doria, Elmina—members of the Healing Hand Society

Ahira Bandylegs—dwarf warrior

Walter Slovotsky—part-time farming consultant to King Maherrelen, part-time warrior, full-time

smartass

Geveren—dwarf soldier fealty-bound to Maherrelen, assigned to Walter Slovotsky and Ahira

Arthur Simpson Deighton/Arta Myrdhyn—lecturer in philosophy, master wizard

Jason Cullinane—Karl and Andrea Cullinane's son

Louis Riccetti—mayor of Home, the Engineer

Bast—Home resident, journeyman engineer

Petros—Home resident, farmer, deputy mayor

Daherrin—dwarf warrior, Home raiding-team leader

Valeran—semiretired soldier in the service of the Cullinane family; Jason's teacher

Bren, Baron Adahan

Aeia Eriksen Cullinane—Karl and Andrea Cullinane's adopted daughter, part-time teacher

Samalyn, Danerel, Mikyn—warriors on Daherrin's raiding team

Artum, Habel—Wehnest soldiers

Vator—Wehnest hostler

Falikos—rancher

Kyreen, Ceenan—drovers from Wehnest, employed by Falikos

CHAPTER ONE:

His Imperial Majesty

Acardinal virtue —perhapsthecardinal virtue —of hereditary rule is that you may—may—get a

reluctant ruler. The trouble with the usurper is that he usually wanted the job. I saidusually;I'm an

exception.

Wanting to rule—as opposed to being willing to govern—is clear evidence of a diseased mind; the

only person who should be allowed to make decisions for anybody else ought to be someone who

doesn't want the job.

Note: Pretended reluctance to rule isn't an effectivesubstitute.

Additional note: Not wanting the job isn't a sufficient qualification, just a necessary one.

Short form of the above: Life can be a real bitch.

—Karl Cullinane

Baron, you're an asshole,Karl Cullinane thought as he approached the keep, crawling on his belly

through the tall grasses.

If Baron Arondael was going to try to explore the possibility of rebelling against his prince and emperor,

at least he could have had the goddam consideration to have his goddam groundskeepers mow the

goddam lawn so that the goddam prince and emperor couldn't quietly sneak up on him, thereby forcing

said goddam prince and emperor to come up with some plan either more straightforward or more

devious than creeping through the goddam grass on his goddam hands and knees.

He paused for a moment and rose to his knees to rub at the stubs that were all that remained of the three

outermost fingers of his left hand. After all these years, he had gotten used to managing with thumb and

forefinger; he rarely missed them—

*Matter of fact, you can count in base seven better than anyone else I know.*

—but grass made the stumps itch.

Baron, you are going to pay for my itching stumps.

That seemed only fair. The stumps weren't Arondael's fault; the itching was.

*Good, good,* the sarcastic voice echoed in his head. *Worry about what a jerk Baron Arondael is

and how you'd rather just walk up to the castle. Much, much better to think about what you'd rather be

doing than to concentrate on what you are doing. Why not worry how Jason's lessons at Home are

coming along?*

Ellegon—

*Maybe you could concentrate on Jason's incompetence in long division instead of the admittedly more

minor issue of whether or not somebody's going to shove a sword through your guts.*

Sarcasm doesn't become you.

*Stupidity doesn't look good on anyone. Do you know the technical term for the children of stupid

soldiers?*

Okay, I'll bite: What do you call them?

*Orphans.*

To his right, General Garavar and the six soldiers strung out beyond him pretended that Ellegon hadn't

included them in his mental broadcast.

There was one exception. And a carefully pitched snort of derision that couldn't have carried farther than

a few meters.

*Tennetty says that I'm right, as usual, by the way.*

"Be quiet, all of you. We've got a job to do."

"Your majesty," Garavar whispered, "I say again: Emperors don't do this sort of thing."

"I said to shut up. I don't want to attract attention." Yet.

Garavar was a soldier of the old school, Bieme style, where loyalty counted more than obedience.

Still, when Karl glared as Garavar opened his mouth again, Garavar shut up.

Karl had to admit that Garavar did have a point. A good one, at that. Not that this was particularly a

bad idea, but it shouldn't have been Karl Cullinane leading it.

It shouldn't be me,Karl thought. It should be someone good at a quiet sneak, it should be somebody

like Walter Slovotsky trying to creep in close. This was Walter Slovotsky's sort of thing, not Karl's.

*There is nobody like Walter Slovotsky. I take it you miss him.*

Good guess.Slovotsky would already be well inside the castle, have seduced one or more pretty girls,

filled his pockets with coins and jewels, set himself up with another bed partner or two for later, stuffed

himself on rich food in the castle kitchen, uncorked and imbibed the best bottle of wine available, and had

the baron up against the wall, fully frisked and intimidated by now.

Without raising a sweat, probably.

*Hmmm . . . I wonder if he has such an overinflated opinion of your abilities. By the way, youcould have

done this like a normal kind of person. You have heard of normality?*

The standard way to get a recalcitrant baron out of his castle was for a detachment of his neighboring

barons to show up at his door and invite him to accompany them to the capitol.

That was almost completely safe: no baron would want open combat with his neighbors unless he was

certain his life was already forfeit; fighting his neighbors was certain to get him killed. Even if he did order

his men to attack such a delegation, his soldiers would be likely to mutiny; princes and emperors tended

to frown on such attacks and express their disapproval with axe and gibbet.

Relay to Garavar, Karl Cullinane thought. I didn't get where I am today by doing things the standard

way. And speaking of which, it's my understanding that generals don't usually go creeping around through

the grasses, either.

There wasn't an answer to that.

Although Tennetty quickly provided one anyway. "There are some people," she whispered softly, "who

are a bit concerned about your tender hide."

Ellegon provided another. *And since when are you so happy about where you are today?*

Shut up. I've got to think.

*Oh—a new trick!*

Shush!

There was a time when Karl Cullinane would have gone on a raid without worrying about the welfare of

the people he was raiding, but that was in the old days, when he was the leader of a Home raiding team,

and the victims were slavers in caravan.

Now, it was different: The guards here were his subjects—although he did not like the word—and an

emperor didn't just go around killing innocent subjects.

Hmmm . . . it was just as well that the baron clearly didn't expect trouble this quickly; instead of paying

attention to what they were doing, the two guards were chatting about what a bastard the new guard

sergeant was as they approached. Karl eyed their path and didn't like it. It looked like the guards were

going to come too close to his squad.

We don't need a whole lot of alarms being raised. Relay: Ten, what do you think of the idea of

taking the one on the left while I take the one on the right?

*From Tennetty: "What do I think? I think that's just about the dumbest idea you've had this year. Aren't

they going to get a bit suspicious when the two of us pop out of the grass? We need a diversion, not a

brace of panicky soldiers crying for help."*

Ellegon, can you read them well enough for a mindscream?

*Yes, but I'm not close enough to be sure it would really stun them.*

Wonderful. Karl shrugged mentally. Okay, back to basics. Relay: Tennetty, you take that skinny kid—

*"Hoften."*

—Hoften, and work your way around behind them. When I get their attention, jump them, and do your

best to silence them, without killing. Understood?

*"Understood. Without killing."*

Karl didn't like it, but he'd have to count on Arondael's military commander being as sloppy about

training as he was about peacetime discipline.

As the two closed to within barely five yards of where Karl lay, Karl Cullinane leaped to his feet, a

flintlock pistol in one hand, his saber in the other.

"Halt in the name of the emperor," he hissed, as the others rose up beside him, Garavar with a throwing

knife balanced, the others with sword or crossbow ready.

That stopped them for a precious second; a second was all that was needed. Arondael wasn't on a war

footing; neither guard had time or inclination to make an outcry in the second before Tennetty and Hoften

were on them.

"Who . . . ?" the larger of the two started, the word trailing off to a gurgle as Tennetty snaked an arm

around his throat, gently setting a knifepoint against his windpipe.

"Please don't scream," she said politely, "or I'll cut the sound in half before it leaves your throat. Now,

open your mouth slowly," she said, jamming a gag in it when he did.

Hoften had silenced his quarry by the simple expedient of jamming his own arm into the man's mouth; the

boy gritted his teeth against the pain as the guard struggled for the moment it took until Karl was upon

him.

Karl Cullinane uncocked and holstered his pistol, then reached out and grabbed the guard by the front of

his tunic.

"I said," he whispered, " 'Halt in the name of the emperor,' " setting the point of his sword against the

guard's throat.

Wide-eyed, the guard relaxed his bite.

"Better. Would you prefer I said, 'Halt in the name of me'? I don't normally like incidental killings, but if

you don't get your damn teeth out of that boy's arm, I'll make an exception. Good.

"Now, I want tonight's passwords."

* * *

Wearing the guards' livery, Karl and Garavar approached the guard station, muttering the night's

password under their breath.

As the sleepy-eyed corporal of the guard snicked the bolts aside and opened the door, Garavar took a

step inside the gate and brought a cocked pistol up to the corporal's head.

"You know," he said conversationally, while Karl guided the guard into the shadows, "there comes a

time in a man's life when he has to make a decision. You've got one to make right now. You can either

give out an alarm—in which case the emperor will be most irritated with you—or you can help us get

close to the baron."

"Emp—"

"That's me," Karl said, reaching into the cloth bag at his waist and pulling out the silver crown of Bieme.

He set it on his head. "The one and only."

Now, I want a broad relay to everyone in the castle.

*Station Kay Ay Ar Ell, the voice of the Emperor of Holtun-Bieme, is now on the air,* Ellegon

answered back, as the dragon landed noisily on the ramparts above them.

"My name is Karl Cullinane," he said quietly, knowing that Ellegon would add the proper volume as he

relayed the thoughts. "I am Prince of Bieme, conqueror of Holtun, and Emperor of Holtun-Bieme, and I

want to see Baron Arondael, now."

He unbolted the door and kicked it open for Tennetty and the rest to follow. "And in case anyone has

any foolish idea, I've summoned a sufficient force to tear this castle down to the bare stones. Anyone

who gets in my way is dead."

Next step.Karl closed his eyes.

*Here goes.* A dark shadow passed high overhead, only to be relieved by dazzling brightness as

Ellegon's flame lit up the night.

Relay:"Into the courtyard, everyone. Now."

In moments, the entire keep had stumbled out, soldiers numbly clawing for their armor and weapons,

servants and children in their night tunics.

Including Arrifezh, Baron Arondael.

The rapier-slim man rubbed a gnarled fist against eyes that hadn't yet noticed they weren't sleepy

anymore.

"Good morning, Baron," Karl Cullinane said, raising his voice. "And good morning all. Every man,

woman, and child, regardless of rank, who is not in rebellion against their prince and emperor, will now

kindly lay down any arms and kneel." He sheathed his sword and folded his hands over his chest. "I said

now. "

Tennetty brought up her rifle and took careful aim at the middle of the baron's nose. "Starting with you,

Baron," she muttered in a low voice. "We start with you, one way or another."

Karl's soldiers following the baron's example, the several hundred people in the courtyard bent like a sea

of wheat in the wind.

"That's fine. Up, all of you."

Garavar drew himself up to his full height. "My apologies, your majesty," he said to Karl. "You were

right; I was wrong. It worked."

"As usual," Karl said.

"For those born luckier than they've any right to be," the general shot back. And then added: "Sire."

But he was smiling. And that was usual.

文档加载中……请稍候！
如果长时间未打开，您也可以点击刷新试试。

下载文档到电脑，查找使用更方便

5.9 玖币 0人已下载

立即下载 VIP免费下载

摘要：

GuardiansoftheFlame-LegacyTableofContentsTheHeirApparentCHAPTERONE:CHAPTERTWO:CHAPTERTHREE:CHAPTERFOUR:CHAPTERFIVE:CHAPTERSIX:CHAPTERSEVEN:CHAPTEREIGHT:CHAPTERNINE:CHAPTERTEN:CHAPTERELEVEN:CHAPTERTWELVE:CHAPTERTHIRTEEN:CHAPTERFOURTEEN:CHAPTERFIFTEEN:CHAPTERSIXTEEN:CHAPTERSEVENTEEN:CHAPTEREIGHTEEN:CH...

展开>> 收起<<

Joel Rosenberg - Omnibus 02 - Legacy.pdf

共359页,预览72页

还剩页未读，继续阅读

声明：本站为文档C2C交易模式，即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载，本站只是中间服务平台，本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间，仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理，对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私，请立即通知玖贝云文库，我们立即给予删除！

Joel Rosenberg - Omnibus 02 - Legacy

相关推荐

开通VIP享超值会员特权

作者详情

相关内容

热门标签

举报选择: