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

The priest struck the gong.

The sound reverberated off the temple's vaulted domes, splendid with brightly coloured carvings. The
solitary note echoed back and forth, diminishing to a remembered tone, a ghost of sound.

Mara knelt, the cold stones of the temple floor draining the warmth from her. She shivered, though not
from chill, then glanced slightly to the left, where another initiate knelt in a pose identical to her own,
duplicating Mara's movements as she lifted the white head covering of a novice of the Order of Lashima,
Goddess of the Inner Light. Awkwardly posed with the linen draped like a tent above her head, Mara
impatiently awaited the moment when the headdress could be lowered and tied. She had barely lifted the
cloth and already the thing dragged at her arms like stone weights! The gong sounded again. Reminded of
the goddess's eternal presence, Mara inwardly winced at her irreverent thoughts. Now, of all times, her
attention must not stray. Silently she begged the goddess's forgiveness, pleading nerves - fatigue and
excitement combined with apprehension. Mara prayed to the Lady to guide her to the inner peace she so
fervently desired.

The gong chimed again, the third ring of twenty-two, twenty for the gods, one for the Light of Heaven,
and one for the imperfect children who now waited to join in the service of the Goddess of Wisdom of
the Upper Heaven. At seventeen years of age, Mara prepared to renounce the temporal world, like the
girl at her side who – in another nineteen chimings of the gong - would be counted her sister, though they
had met only two weeks before.

Mara considered her sister-to-be: Ura was a foul-tempered girl from a clanless but wealthy family in
Lash Province while Mara was from an ancient and powerful family, the Acoma. Ura's admission to the
temple was a public demonstration of family piety, ordered by her uncle, the self-styled family Lord, who
sought admission into any clan that would take his family. Mara had come close to defying her father to
join the order. When the girls had exchanged histories at their first meeting, Ura had been incredulous,
then almost angry that the daughter of a powerful Lord should take eternal shelter behind the walls of the
order. Mara's heritage meant clan position, powerful allies, an array of well-positioned suitors, and an
assured good marriage to a son of another powerful house. Her own sacrifice, as Ura called it, was made
so that later generations of girls in her family would have those things Mara chose to renounce. Not for
the first time Mara wondered if Ura would make a good sister of the order. Then, again not for the first
time, Mara questioned her own worthiness for the Sisterhood.

The gong sounded, deep and rich. Mara closed her eyes a moment, begging for guidance and
comfort. Why was she still plagued with doubts? After eighteen more chimes, family, friends, and the
familiar would be forever lost. All her past life would be put behind, from earliest child's play to a noble
daughter's concern over her family's role within the Game of the Council, that never-ending struggle for
dominance which ordered all Tsurani life. Ura would become her sister, no matter the differences in their
heritage, for within the Order of Lashima none recognized personal honour or family name. There would
remain only service to the goddess, through chastity and obedience.

The gong rang again, the fifth stroke. Mara peeked up at the altar atop the dais. Framed beneath
carved arches, six priests and priestesses knelt before the statue of Lashima, her countenance unveiled
for the initiation. Dawn shone through the lancet windows high in the domes, the palest glow reaching like
fingers through the half-dark temple. The touch of sunrise seemed to caress the goddess, softening the
jewel-like ceremonial candles that surrounded her. How friendly the lady looked in morning's blush,
Mara thought. The Lady of Wisdom gazed down with a half-smile on her chiselled lips, as if all under her
care would be loved and protected, finding inner peace. Mara prayed this would be true. The only priest
not upon his knees again rang the gong. Metal caught the sunlight, a splendid burst of gold against the