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

flight. Within minutes the sky was covered with silhouettes of grace and elegance, whirling across clouds
fired with scarlet and pink, and indigo before the approach of night. No man understood the reason for
this splendid group dance upon the wing, but the sight was majestic. Though Mara had watched the
display a thousand times through girlhood, the birds still took her breath away. She did not notice the
tiptoe departure of the maidservant but for the better part of an hour sat absorbed as flocks numbering in
the thousands gathered to wheel and turn, bank and glide, while the light slowly faded. The birds landed
as the sun vanished. In the silvery twilight they gathered in the marshes, clustered tightly to baffle
predators while they slept.

House servants returned in the warm, sweet hour of nightfall, bringing oil for the lamps and hot herb
tea. But exhaustion had overtaken Mara at last. They found her asleep amid her cushions, lulled by the
familiar sounds of herders driving the needra into shelter. In the distance the sad song of a kitchen slave
kneading thyza bread for the morning meal was a soft counterpoint to the faint calls of Keyoke's sentries
as they patrolled the grounds to ensure the safety of Acoma's newest Lady.



Accustomed to temple discipline, Mara awoke early. She blinked, at first confused by her
surroundings; then the rich coverlet thrown over her sleeping mat reminded her: she lay in her father's
chamber as Ruling Lady of the Acoma. Rested, but still aching from the bruises left by the Minwanabi
assassin, she rolled on her side. Luxuriant strands of hair caught in her lashes; impatiently she pushed
them away.

Dawn brightened the screens that faced east. The whistle of a herder driving needra to pasture cut
through daybreak's chorus of bird calls. Made restless by memories, Mara arose.

Her maids did not hear her stir. Barefoot, and appreciative of the solitude, the girl crossed the
chamber and slipped the catch on the screen. She slid it aside with the barest of squeaks. Cool air
caressed her skin between the loose folds of her robe. Mara drew in the scent of dew, and moist earth,
and the delicate perfume of akasi flowers. Mist rose off the marshlands, rendering the trees and hedges in
tones of charcoal, and there the lone silhouette of a herdsman driving the slow-moving needra.

The soldier at his post in the dooryard turned about on his beat, and realized the girl who stood in the
white shift and sleep-tangled hair was his ruling mistress. He bowed gravely. Mara nodded absently as he
returned to his duty. The girl regarded the wide expanse of her family estates, in a morning as yet
unmarred by the noise and bustle of the day. Shortly all who worked upon the estate would be busy
about their tasks, and for only a few minutes longer would Mara have this serene glimpse of what was
now hers to protect. Her brows knitted in concern as she realized how much she had to learn to manage
these holdings. At present she didn't even know the extent of her inheritance. She knew vaguely that she
had properties in other provinces, but she had no knowledge of their disposition and worth. Her father
had disliked the details of farming and stock breeding, and while he had overseen his assets and his
people's well-being with wisdom, his conversations with Mara had always been turned to matters of his
liking, and pf a lighter nature.

When the maid called softly from the doorway of the chamber, Mara shut the screen. 'I shall dress
and breakfast at once,' she instructed. 'Then I will see this new hadonra, Jican, in the study.'

The maid bowed and hastened to the wardrobe, while Mara shook the tangles from her hair. Denied
the comfort of servants in the temple, Mara reached automatically for her brush.