"Elgin,.Suzette.Haden.-.Ozark.-.01.-.Twelve.Fair.Kingdoms" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elgin Suzette Haden)

leap up every time a dirty puddle appeared on a street comer
and shout that this was but the first sign, the first step, toward
the wallowing in degradation that came when the individual
allowed theirselves to be swallowed up (they always said
"swallowed up," playing on the hatred every Ozarker had for
being closed in on any side, much less all of them) by a central
government. . . . And several more were in honesty uncom-
mitted, ready to move either way.

I ran them by in my mind, one by one. Castle Purdy, Castle
Guthrie, Castle Parson, Castle Traveller—dead set against the
Confederation and anxious to grab any opportunity to tear the
poor frail thing apart and go to isolation for everything but
trade and marriage. Castles Smith, Airy, dark, and
McDaniels, and Castles Lewis and Motley of Mizzurah, all
with us—but perhaps only Castle Airy really ready, or able, to
put any strength behind us. It was hard to know. When the
Confederation met at Castle Brightwater, one month now in
every four—to the bitter complaints of Purdy, Guthrie, Parson,
and Traveller about the expense and tile waste and the
frivolousness of it all—those six voted very carefully indeed.
That is, when we could manage to bring anything to a vote.
Only Castles Airy and Lewis had ever made a move that went
three points past neutrality, and that rarely. As for Castle
Wommack, who knew where they stood? One delegate they
sent to the meetings, grudgingly, against the other Castles'

Twelve Fair Kingdoms 11

delegations of four each and full staff; and the Wommack
delegate came without so much as a secretary or Attendant,
and spent most of his time abstaining. We were seven to five
for the Confederation—maybe. Maybe we were but two
against ten, with six of the ten playing lip service but ready to
bolt at me first sign of anything that smelled like real conflict.

My mother made a rare concession: she addressed me by
term of kinship.

"Daughter," she said, making me raise my eyebrows at the
unexpected mode of address, "what do you think we ought to
do?"

"Ask Jubal," said foolish Emmalyn, and I suppose Patience
kicked her, under the table. Patience always sat next to
Emmalyn for that specific purpose. Ask Jubal, indeed.

"Think now before you speak," said Ruth of Motley. "It
won't do to answer this carelessly and get caught out,
Responsible. You give it careful thought." She had finally