"Raymond E. Feist - Conclave of Shadows 1 - Talon of the Silver Hawk" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)

vision. Prior to that he had fasted, drinking only herb teas and water; then he had eaten the traditional
meal of the warrior, dried meat, hard bread and water with bitter herbs, before spending half a day
climbing the dusty path up the eastern face of the holy mountain to the tiny depression a dozen yards
below the summit. The clearing would scarcely accommodate half a dozen men, but it seemed vast and
empty to the boy as he entered the third day of the ceremony.

A childhood spent in a large house with many relatives had ill prepared him for such isolation, for this
was the first time in his existence he had been without companionship for more than a few hours.

As was customary among the Orosini, the boy had started the manhood ritual on the third day before
the Midsummer celebration, which the lowlanders call Banapis. The boy would greet the new year, the
end of his life as a child, in contemplating the lore of his family and clan, his tribe and nation, and seeking
the wisdom of his ancestors. It was a time of deep introspection and meditation, as the boy sought to
understand his place in the order of the universe, the role laid before him by the gods. And on this day he
was expected to gain his manhood name. If events went as they should, he would rejoin his family and
clan in time for the evening Midsummer festival.

As a child he had been called Kieli, a diminution of Kielianapuna, the red squirrel, the clever and nimble
dweller in the forests of home. Never seen, but always present, they were considered lucky when
glimpsed by the Orosini. And Kieli was considered to be a lucky child.

The boy shivered almost uncontrollably, for his paltry stores of body fat hardly insulated him from the
night's chill. Even in the middle of the summer, the peaks of the mountains of the Orosini were cold after
the sun fled.

Kieli waited for the vision. He saw the sky lighten, a slow, progressive shift from grey to pale grey-blue,
then to a rose hue as the sun approached. He saw the brilliance of the sun crest the distant mountain, a
whitish-golden orb that brought him another day of loneliness. He averted his eyes when the disc of the
sun cleared the mountains, lest his sight flee from him. The trembling in his body lessened as the sun
finally rose sufficiently to begin to relieve the chill. He waited, at first expectantly, then with a deep fatigue-
generated hopelessness.

Each Orosini boy endured this ritual upon the midsummer day close to the time of his birth anniversary
in one of the many such holy places scattered throughout the region. For years beyond numbering boys
had climbed to these vantage points, and men had returned.

He experienced a brief moment of envy, as he recalled that the girls of his age in the village would be in
the round house with the women at the moment, chatting and eating, singing and praying. Somehow the
girls found their women's names without the privation and hardship endured by the boys. Kieli let the
moment pass: dwelling on what you can't control was futile, as his grandfather would say.

He thought of his grandfather, Laughter In His Eyes, who had been the last to speak to him as he
climbed the lonely trail from the valley where his people dwelt. The old man had smiled as he always had -
- he could hardly remember a time when he hadn't seen a smile on the old man's face.

Grandfather's face was like brown leather from nearly eighty years of living in the mountains, his clan
tattoos upon his left cheek still black despite years in the sun.

The old man's keen eyes and strong features were always framed by steel grey hair down to his
shoulders.