"Raymond E. Feist - Empire Saga 1 - Daughter Of The Empire" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)

and she relaxed. The warmth of the day and the quietness of the river at last conspired to lull Mara into a
deep sleep.

The barge docked at Sulan-Qu under the topaz light of daybreak. Mist rose in coils off the river, while
shops and stalls by the waterfront opened screened shutters in preparation for market. Keyoke acted
swiftly to disembark Mara's litter while the streets were still free of the choking press of commerce; soon
carts and porters, shoppers and beggars would throng the commercial boulevards. In scant minutes the
slaves were ready. Still clad in the white robes of Lashima's sisterhood - crumpled from six days' use -
Mara climbed wearily into her litter. She settled back against cushions stylized with her family's symbol,
the shatra bird, embroidered into the material, and realized how much she dreaded her return home. She
could not imagine the airy spaces of the great house empty of Lano's boisterous voice, or the floor mats
in the study uncluttered with the scrolls left by her father when he wearied of reading reports. Mara
smiled faintly, recalling her father's distaste for business, despite the fact he was skilled at it. He preferred
matters of warfare, the games, and politics, but she remembered his saying that everything required
money, and commerce must never be neglected.

Mara allowed herself an almost audible sigh as the litter was hoisted. She wished the curtains
provided more privacy as she endured the gazes of peasants and workers upon the streets at first light.
From atop vegetable carts and behind booths where goods were being arrayed, they watched the great
lady and her retinue sweep by. Worn from constantly guarding her appearance, Mara endured the
jostling trip through streets that quickly became crowded. She lapsed into brooding, outwardly alert, but
inwardly oblivious to the usually diverting panorama of the city.

Screens on the galleries overhead were withdrawn as merchants displayed wares above the buyers.
When haggling ended, the agreed price was pulled up in baskets, then the goods lowered. Licensed
prostitutes were still asleep, so every fifth or sixth gallery remained shuttered.

Mara smiled slightly, remembering the first time she had seen the ladies of the Reed Life. The
prostitutes showed themselves upon the galleries as they had for generations, robes left in provocative
disarray as they fanned themselves in the ever-present city heat. All the women had been beautiful, their
faces painted with lovely colours and their hair bound up in regal style. Even the skimpy robes were of
the costliest weave, with fine embroidery. Mara had voiced a six-year-old girl's delight at the image. She
had then announced to all within earshot that when she grew up she would be just like the ladies in the
galleries. This was the only time in her life she had seen her father rendered speechless. Lano had teased
her about the incident until the morning she left for the temple. Now his playful jibes would embarrass her
no further.

Saddened nearly to tears, Mara turned from memory. She sought diversion outside her litter, where
clever hawkers sold wares from wheelbarrows at corners, beggars accosted passersby with tales of
misery, jugglers offered antics, and merchants presented rare, beautiful silk as they passed. But all failed
to shield her mind from pain.

The market fell behind and they left the city. Beyond the walls of Sulan-Qu, cultivated fields stretched
towards a line of bluish mountains on the horizon; the Kyamaka range was not so rugged or so high as
the great High Wall to the north, but the valleys remained wild enough to shelter bandits and outlaws.

The road to Mara's estates led through a swamp that resisted all attempts to drain it. Here her bearers
muttered complaints as they were plagued by insects. A word from Keyoke brought silence.

Then the road passed through a stand of ngaggi trees, their large lower branches a green-blue canopy