-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Терри Пратчетт
-
- Мор - ученик смерти
-
- Стр. 121/357
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
The
Chamberlain
found
he
’
d
instructed
that
the
royal
standard
be
flown
at
half
mast
and
for
the
life
of
him
couldn
’
t
explain
why
.
He
was
gently
led
off
to
his
bed
with
a
mild
nervous
affliction
after
ordering
a
thousand
yards
of
black
bunting
for
no
apparent
reason
.
The
eerie
,
unreal
feeling
soon
spread
throughout
the
castle
.
The
head
coachman
ordered
the
state
bier
to
be
brought
out
again
and
polished
,
and
then
stood
in
the
stable
yard
and
wept
into
his
chamois
leather
because
he
couldn
’
t
remember
why
.
Servants
walked
softly
along
the
corridors
.
The
cook
had
to
fight
an
overpowering
urge
to
prepare
simple
banquets
of
cold
meat
.
Dogs
howled
and
then
stopped
,
feeling
rather
stupid
.
The
two
black
stallions
who
traditionally
pulled
the
Sto
Lat
funeral
cortege
grew
restive
in
their
stalls
and
nearly
kicked
a
groom
to
death
.
In
his
castle
in
Sto
Helit
,
the
duke
waited
in
vain
for
a
messenger
who
had
in
fact
set
out
,
but
had
stopped
halfway
down
the
street
,
unable
to
remember
what
it
was
he
was
supposed
to
be
doing
.
Through
all
this
Keli
moved
like
a
solid
and
increasingly
more
irritated
ghost
.
Things
came
to
a
head
at
lunchtime
.
She
swept
into
the
great
hall
and
found
no
place
had
been
set
in
front
of
the
royal
chair
.
By
speaking
loudly
and
distinctly
to
the
butler
she
managed
to
get
that
rectified
,
then
saw
dishes
being
passed
in
front
of
her
before
she
could
get
a
fork
into
them
.
She
watched
in
sullen
disbelief
as
the
wine
was
brought
in
and
poured
first
for
the
Lord
of
the
Privy
Closet
.
It
was
an
unregal
thing
to
do
,
but
she
stuck
out
a
foot
and
tripped
the
wine
waiter
.
He
stumbled
,
muttered
something
under
his
breath
,
and
stared
down
at
the
flagstones
.
She
leaned
the
other
way
and
shouted
into
the
ear
of
the
Yeoman
of
the
Pantry
:
’
Can
you
see
me
,
man
?
Why
are
we
reduced
to
eating
cold
pork
and
ham
?
’
He
turned
aside
from
his
hushed
conversation
with
the
Lady
of
the
Small
Hexagonal
Room
in
the
North
Turret
,
gave
her
a
long
look
in
which
shock
made
way
for
a
sort
of
unfocused
puzzlement
,
and
said
,
’
Why
,
yes
.
.
.
I
can
.
.
.
er
.
.
.
.
’
’
Your
Royal
Highness
,
’
prompted
Keli
.
’
But
.
.
.
yes
.
.
.
Highness
,
’
he
muttered
.
There
was
a
heavy
pause
.
