"Kate Elliott - Jaran 4 - The Law of Becoming" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elliott Kate)

bridge led him across the greenish moat waters which smelled of dense rotting vegetation. Walls
enclosed him. Passing through an inner archway, he found himself on a broad green lawn shaded by
trees. In the middle of this ward stood a white-bricked tower capped with a rounded turret at each
corner. Like any citadel, it looked imposing. Wooden stairs led up, and openly, into the tower. Why
would they build such a thing and yet let people pass in and out so freely? Here and there on the
grounds he marked uniformed men, dressed in brilliant red and gold or somber black and red, who
stood with the posture of soldiers, but they carried no weapons, although one of them held a
burnished black staff.

Anatoly wove in and out among other people who seemed, like him, merely to be looking. He
followed a clump of them up the stairs, and suddenly he came into a cluster of rooms where he felt, at
last, at home. Armor and weapons stood displayed along the walls. He knew better than to touch
anything. Yet just the sight of it eased his worries. These khaja knew and understood war, that much
was obvious. He understood vaguely from things Diana and the Prince of Jeds (no longer the prince,
but still alive) had said to him that there were people, not human people but zayinu, the ancient ones,
who ruled Diana's people. Diana called them aliens; the Prince called them Chapalii. Perhaps these
Chapalii had forced the humans to lay aside their weapons—it would make sense, if they had
conquered them—but let them keep a few here for some strange zayinu reason.

It was dusk by the time he went back outside, pondering all that he had seen. Glowing lanterns
without flame lit the streets, so it was no trouble to find his way back, although by the time he turned
the corner onto Kensington Court Place his legs ached from so much walking. A man ought not to
walk so far. He ought to ride.

He placed his palm on the panel, and as the door opened he heard her voice and then her feet
pounding down the steps.

"Anatoly!" Diana jerked to a halt at the base of the steps. He stilled, watching her. Her expression
passed from fear to relief and straight into anger. "Where were you?" she demanded.

At the door above, Ilyana peeked out.

Anatoly brushed carefully by Diana and took the steps at a dignified pace up past Ilyana and on to
their own flat. Another actor, Hal, lived here also, but he had gone to stay with a friend for the month,
to give them privacy. Diana practically trod on his heels following him up.

"I was terrified!" she yelled at him even before the door shut behind her. "How dare you go out like
that on your own! You could have gotten lost! Anything could have happened!"

He went all the way forward to the sitting room, to the window, and laid a hand on the cool glass,
staring down at the lamplit street below. He felt ... satisfied. Fuming, she stood behind him.

Finally, he turned. "But I did not get lost. And why should I not go out? Is there some law that
prevents me?"

"No, but—"

"Then I don't understand why you are angry," he added, understanding full well. "Unless you want
me never to do anything on my own."