"Baker,.Scott.-.Ashlu.2.-.1987.-.Drink.the.fire.from.the.flames" - читать интересную книгу автора (Baker Scott)

"Good. You will have a chance to prove it when

we go after the mountain clays. But not today. You may have your grandfather's shoulders, but we're still a long way from Kyborash, and your sack will feel much heavier before we get there. "
When the walls of Kyborash finally came into view, Moth said triumphantly, "I could have carried more. A lot more. "
"Of course you could, " Ri Tal said. "But there was no need, and only a fool would risk the Earth Mother's wrath without cause. Besides, you're tired enough as it is, aren't you?"
Moth had to admit that he was somewhat tired.
"Well, you're not done yet. We have to prepare the clay when we get back to the compound. "
After welcoming the spirit of the clay to the compound's sacred precincts, Ri Tal taught Moth how to tread the clay and mix sand and wood ashes into it so as to give it the proper plasticity. But Ri Tal chanted the rituals for each stage of the process himself, for which Moth was grateful: he was too tired to learn any more prayers or rites.
When the clay was ready, Ri Tal had Moth bury it in a shallow pit and cover it with a thin layer of soil. And from that day on, whenever Ri Tal went in search of clay, Moth accompanied him.

Chapter Four

"Is anyone home?"
"Come in, Tramu!" Kuan called, looking up from her cheese-making. Moth's ten-year-old cousin ran in, came to a halt, and stood impatiently shifting his weight from one foot to the other. A year older than Moth, he was a handswidth taller as well, with the flame-red hair, black eyes, and broad shoulders of Tas Et, his father. He was the only child of Kuan's sister, Pyota.
"Sartor guide you, aunt. Where's Moth? Can I have some cheese?"
"No. It's not dry yet. Moth's with his father. "
"Doing what?"
"Something for the Festival. Shouldn't you be helping Tas Et?"
"No, he's with Grandfather. That's why I'm here-Grandfather said to tell you we're all invited to his house for dinner tomorrow night. "
"When?"
"Just after sunset. "
"Run back and tell him we'll be there. "
"Is Moth going to be busy all day?"

"All day. "
"I've never seen a Seven-Year Festival. "
"They've never had one here before. "
"I want to see the King. Do you think I'll get to see him, aunt?"
"I hope so. Now-"
"Is Moth going to be busy all day tomorrow, too?"
"Yes. Now, go tell your grandfather we're coming. "
"Yes, aunt. Sartor guide you. "
"And you, nephew. " But Tramu was already gone.
The next evening Moth and his parents rubbed their hair glossy with scented sesame oil and Kuan plaited Ri Tal's beard into two long braids. Both Moth and Ri Tal wore their finest siltunics of scarlet wool over linen undertunics, but Ri Tal had draped a short cloak of coarse white wool over his, and in his right hand he carried the ornately carved staff of a Master Potter. Kuan had emphasized her eyes with malachite and wore a necklace of blue faience, white quartz, and silver beads; her long dress of red linen left her right breast bare, proclaiming her initiation into the Women's Mystery.
Moth was very proud of the way they all looked, though embarrassed that he had as yet no staff of his own.
Outside, Ri Tal handed Moth the lamp and fastened the door to the doorpost with a cord, then dabbed a little clay on the knot and rolled it with his seal to invoke the law's protection for his home and property.
Tas No Sil's house was within the city's walls. All the lesser gates were closed a daysixth before sunset, so they had to make their way to the South Gate. There they were forced to wait while the gate guard, a surly-faced Warrior of the Hand wearing a beautifully worked copper breastplate over a faded blue siltunic, argued fees with a slave trader just arrived from Lalacioon with twenty-four male slaves.
When Ri Tal's turn came he gave the warrior his cylinder seal. The warrior scowled, pressed it into a table of damp clay, then compared the mark it made with those on another tablet. Finding the corresponding mark, he rolled Ri Tal's cylinder in the impression to make sure the match was true.
"Two aubers, " he said.
"That's too much, " Ri Tal said. "One. "
"Two this time, one the next. " The guard had a strange accent, at the same time growling and gliding.
"How do I know you'll be here?"
"You don't. "
Ri Tal handed the guard the stamped lead coins with poor grace. The warrior peered at them, thrust one back.
"Give me another. This one's got clipped edges. "
Ri Tal found another coin, handed it over. The guard studied it, nodded, and finally opened the gate.
The wall was five bodylengths thick, the gate passage narrow. Six archers watched them from above as they entered. Ri Tal and his family waited until the guard had secured the outer gate behind them, then followed him to the inner gate. When that, too, had been secured behind them, they made their way through the twisting streets to Tas No Sil's house.
"Two aubers!" Ri Tal said as soon as they were out of earshot. "Scandalous!"
Tas No Sil was wealthy. His house was two stories high and rich with the scent of spices; even the lamp outside his door burned perfumed sesame oil. Carya, a former slave whom the High Smith had taken to wife in the second-class marriage after his first wife's death, met them at the door and conducted them through the anteroom into the courtyard, where the Sil Smith and Tramu's family awaited them.
Everyone kissed everyone else. Pyota wore a scent that Moth disliked and her husband's beard always made him sneeze, but Tas No Sil had a rich old man's smell that he liked.