"David Eddings - The Dreamers 01 - The Elder gods" - читать интересную книгу автора (Eddings David)

for yours, of course. We could meet there, I suppose, but Veltan doesn’t
swim very well. And let’s keep the Dreamers away from our meeting. We
don’t want to contaminate their visions.’


Zelana went up out of Dahlaine’s cave and probed the northern sky
until she found a wind that suited her purpose, and then she rose up
through the chill northern air to join with the obliging wind to ride it on
down in a southeasterly direction toward Aracia’s Domain.
The arrival of the later variety of people had elevated Aracia’s opinion
of herself quite noticeably. Until their appearance. Aracia had seemed
sensible enough - a little vain, perhaps, but not unbearably so. The later
people, unlike the more brutish early ones, had religious yearnings, and
they longed for gods.
Aracia had thought that was very nice of them, and she’d been more
than happy to oblige. She’d suggested that a fancy dwelling where she
could stay while she was looking after them might be appropriate, so her
people built one for her - several, actually. The first one had been a bit
crude, since it had been constructed primarily of logs. It had been all right
for a while, but the wind blew through the cracks, and the dirt floor grew
muddy during the spring rains.
Aracia had then suggested stone blocks instead of logs, and the people
who served her labored long and hard to build a dwelling for her that was
almost as comfortable as Zelana’s grotto or Dahlaine’s cave. And now
Aracia of the East dwelt in her splendid, though drafty, palace-temple
with servants by the score to tell her how wonderful she was and how
beautiful and how they could not possibly get along without her - and if it
wasn’t too much trouble, could she turn that fellow who’d been so
insulting the other day into a toad and maybe make it rain because the
oats really needed some water along about now, but not too much rain,
since that made everything all muddy.
Zelana descended through the crisp autumn air to the marble dome of
her sister’s temple and adjusted her eyes to look through the polished
marble at Aracia’s regal throne room. It was sheathed in palest marble, of
course, and there were tall columns around its outer edge, and red drapes
behind Aracia’s golden throne.
Aracia was garbed in a regal gown, and she wore a regal crown of gold
and a regal sort of expression on her face.
A fat man garbed in black linen vestments and a tediously ornate miter
was standing before Aracia’s throne delivering a tiresome oration of
praise.
Aracia. Zelana noticed, seemed to hang on the fat man’s every word.
Although she knew that it would be terribly impolite, Zelana simply
couldn’t resist a sudden impulse.
The fat orator broke off suddenly when Zelana, clad only in filmy
gauze, abruptly appeared out of nowhere before the throne of her elder
sister. Several plump, overfed servants fainted dead away, and a few of
the more theologically inclined began to contemplate revisions of several
articles of the faith.
Aracia gasped. ‘Cover yourself, Zelana!’ she said sharply.