"Anthony Piers - Sos the Rope" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anthony Piers)

The little party threaded its way out of the camp and into the nearby forest. It was like old times, when they had journeyed to the badlands yet completely different. What incredible things had grown from the early coincidence of names!
This was all wrong. He had come to claim the woman he loved, to challenge Sol for her in the circle if he had to yet he could not get the words out. He loved her and she loved him and her nominal husband admitted the marriage was futile-but Sos felt like a terrible intruder.
Stupid flew ahead, happy to sport among the forest shadows; or perhaps there were insects there.
This could not go on. "I came for Sola," he said baldly.
Sol did not even hesitate. "Take her." It was as though the woman were not present.
"My bracelet, on her- wrist," Sos said, wondering whether he had been understood. "My children by her. She shall be Sosa."
"Certainly."
This was beyond credence. "You have no conditions?"
"Only your friendship."
Sos spluttererd, "This is not a friendly matter!"
"Why not? I have preserved her only for you."
"You-Vit-?" This elaborate guardianship had been for his, Sos's benefit? "Why-?"
"I would have her take no lesser name," Sol said.
Why not, indeed? There seemed to be no barrier to an amicable changeover but it was wrong. It couldn't work. He could not put his finger on the flaw, but knew there was something.
"Give me Soli," Sola said.
Sol hanaed the baby over. She opened her dress and held Soli to her breast to nurse as they walked.
And that was it. The baby! "Can she leave her mother?" Sos asked.
"No," Sola replied.
"You will not take my daughter," Sol said, raising his voice for the first time.
"No-of course not. But until she is weaned-"
"Until, nothing," Sola- said firmly. "She's my daughter, too. She stays with me."
"Soli is mine!" Sol said with utter conviction. "You woman-stay or go as you will, wear whose clasp you will-but Soli is mine."
The baby looked up and began to cry. Sol reached over and took the little girl, and she fell contentedly silent. Sola made a face but said nothing.
"I make no claim upon your daughter," Sos said carefully. "But if she cannot leave her mother-"
Sal found a fallen tree and sat down upon it, balancing Soli upon his knee. "Sorrow fell upon our camp when you departed. Now you are back, and with your weapon. Govern my tribe, my empire, as you did before. I would have you by my side again."
"But I came to take Sola away with me! She cannot stay here after she exchanges bracelets. It would bring shame upon us both."
"Why?"
"Sosa nursing Sol's child?"
Sol thought about it. "Let her wear my bracelet, then. She will still be yours."
"You would wear the horns?"
Sol jiggled Soli on his knee. He began to hum a tune then, catching the range, he sang the words in a fine clear tenor:

From this valley they say you are going
We shall miss your bright eyes and sweet smile
For they say you are taking the sunshine
That brightens our pathway a while.
Come and sit by my-,

Sos interrupted him, appalled. "You heard!"
"I heard who my true friend was, when I was in fever and could not move my body or save myself from injury. I heard who carried me when I would have died. If I must wear the horns, these are the horns I would wear, for all to see."
"No!" Sos cried, shocked.
"Only leave me my daughter; the rest is yours."
"Not dishonor!" Yet it seemed late for this protest. "I will not accept dishonor-yours or mine."
"Nor I," Sola said quietly. "Not now."
"How can there be dishonour among us!" Sol said fervently. "There is only friendship."
They faced each other in silence then, searching for the solution. Sos ran over the alternatives in his mind, again and again, but nothing changed. He could leave-and give up all his dreams of union with the woman he loved, while she remained with a man she did not love and who cared nothing for her. Could he take comfort in such as blonde Miss Smith, while that situation existed? Or he could stay-and accept the dishonorable liaison that would surely emerge, knowing himself to be unworthy of his position and his weapon.
Or he could fight-for a woman and honor. Everything or nothing.
Sol met his gaze. He had come to the same conclusion.
"Make a circle," he said.
"No!" Sola cried, realizing what was happening. "It is wrong either way!"