'The dragon,' corrected his superior.
' 'Ere, I know you,' said Nobby. 'You're Skully Maltoon. Used to live in Mincing Street. Your mum made cough sweets, din't she, and fell in the mixture and died. I never have a cough sweet but I think of your mum.'
'Hallo, Nobby,' said the guard, without enthusiasm.
'I bet your old mum'd be proud of you, you with a dragon on your vest,' said Nobby conversationally. The guard gave him a look made of hatred and embarrassment.
'And new plumes on your hat, too,' Nobby added sweetly.
'This here is a proclamation what you are commanded to read,' said the guard loudly. 'And post up on street corners also. By order.'
'Whose?' said Nobby.
Sergeant Colon grabbed the scroll in one ham-like fist.
'Where As,' he read slowly, tracing the lettering with a hesitant finger, 'It hathe Pleas- Sed the Der-Rer-Aa-Ger-the dragon, Ker-Ii-king of kings and Aa-Ber-Ess-Uh-Ler-' sweat beaded on the broad pink cliff of his forehead-'absolute, that is, Rer-Uh-Ler-Eh-Rer, ruler of-'
He lapsed into the tortured silence of academia, his fingertip jerking slowly down the parchment.
Вы читаете Guards! Guards!
