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

of shade. The travellers moved on into hillier lands, crossing over brightly painted bridges, as the streams
that fed the swamp continually interrupted every road built by man. They came to a prayer gate, a
brightly painted arch erected by some man of wealth as thanks to the gods for a blessing granted. As they
passed under the arch, each traveller generated a silent prayer of thanks and received a small blessing in
return. And as the prayer arch' fell behind, Mara considered she would need all the grace the gods were
willing to grant in the days to come, if the Acoma were to survive.

The party left the highway, turning towards their final destination. Shatra birds foraged in the thyza
paddies, eating insects and grubs, stooped over like old men. Because the flocks helped ensure a good
harvest, the silly-looking creatures were considered a sign of good luck. So the Acoma had counted
them, making the shatra symbol the centrepiece of their house crest. Mara found no humour in the
familiar sight of the shatra birds, with their stilt legs and ever-moving pointed ears, finding instead deep
apprehension, for the birds and workers signalled she had reached Acoma lands.

The bearers picked up stride. Oh, how Mara wished they would slacken pace, or turn around and
carry her elsewhere. But her arrival had been noticed by the workers who gathered faggots in the
woodlands between the fields and the meadow near the great house. Some shouted or waved as they
walked stooped under bundles of wood loaded on their backs and secured with a strap across their
foreheads. There was a warmth in their greeting, and despite the cause of her return they deserved more
than aloofness from their new mistress.

Mara pulled herself erect, smiling slightly and nodding. Around her spread her estates, last seen with
the expectation she would never return. The hedges, the trimmed fields, and the neat outbuildings that
housed the workers were unchanged. But then, she thought, her absence had been less than a year.

The litter passed the needra meadows. The midday air was rent by the herds' plaintive lowing and the
'hut-hut-hut' cry of the herdsmen as they waved goading sticks and moved the animals towards the pens
where they would be examined for parasites. Mara regarded the cows as they grazed, the sun making
their grey hides look tawny. A few lifted blunt snouts as stocky bull calves feinted charges, then
scampered away on six stumpy legs to shelter behind their mothers. To Mara it seemed some asked
when Lano would return to play his wild tricks on the ill-tempered breeding bulls. The pain of her losses
increased the closer she came to home. Mara put on a brave face as the litter bearers turned along the
wide, tree-lined lane that led to the heart of the estate.

Ahead lay the large central house, constructed of beams and paper-thin screens, slid back to open the
interior to any breezes in the midday heat. Mara felt her breath catch. No dogs sprawled among the akasi
flowers, tongues lolling and tails wagging as they waited for the Lord of the Acoma to return. In his
absence they were always kennelled; now that absence was permanent. Yet home, desolate and empty
though it seemed without the presence of loved ones, meant privacy. Soon Mara could retire to the
sacred grove and loose the sorrow she had pent up through seven weary days.

As the litter and retinue passed a barracks house, the soldiers of her home garrison fell into formation
along her line of travel. Their armour was polished, their weapons and trappings faultlessly neat, yet
beside Keyoke's and Papewaio's, only one other officer's plume was in evidence. Mara felt a chill stab at
her heart and glanced at Keyoke. 'Why so few warriors, Force Commander? Where are the others?'

Keyoke kept his eyes forward, ignoring the dust that clung to his lacquered armour and the sweat that
dripped beneath his helm. Stiffly he said, 'Those who were capable returned, Lady.'
 Mara closed her eyes, unable to disguise her shock. Keyoke's simple statement indicated that almost
two thousand soldiers had died beside her father and brother. Many of them had been retainers with