"James Alan Gardner - League of Peoples 02 - Commitment Hour" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gardner James Alan)


A stranger.

The violin is a Southern instrument. I inherited mine from my lamented mother, who inherited it from her
father, and so on, back seven generations. No one else on the peninsula owned one, let alone played
with any skill. I assumed this new player was some out-of-place Southerner, a traveling performer who'd
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wandered off the road and camped in the marsh for the night. But the tune was native to Tober Cove
itself, an unfaithful lover's ballad called "Don't Make Me Choose."

I cursed loud enough to send nearby frogs plopping hastily into the water. There was no telling how an
outsider had learned that song, but no tune on earth could bring Cappie running more quickly. She would
run straight to me, not the unknown Southerner—she knew where I was keeping vigil, and she would
never guess there was a second violinist out in the night. I had to get away before she arrived. As a
matter of fact, I had to find the Southerner as evidence I wasn't the one playing the song.

For a moment, I debated whether to take my violin with me. I didn't want to leave it on its own, but if I
slipped on mud while slinking through the midnight marsh, I might tumble into some scum-covered pool,
instrument and all. Hurriedly I put the violin away and slid the case into the hollow of the log where I'd
been sitting. Instead of the violin, I took my spear. Tober Cove already had all the violinists it needed,
and I intended to make sure this Southerner got the message.



From childhood days practicing in the marsh, I knew the best shortcuts and the most solid trails. As
expected, I slipped several times anyway, soaking my pants to the knee. A dunk or two didn't bother
me, but I wanted to avoid stepping on a stone that was really a snapping turtle, dug into the mud to lay
her eggs. I cautiously approached every rock that lay in my path, knocking the top with the butt end of
my spear, waiting to see if a mean little head would appear and bite off a chunk of the shaft.

The music continued to play strong and clear. "Don't Make Me Choose" is a long piece with a dozen
choruses and variations, as the singer details the virtues of the two men who want to share her bed. She's
twenty years old, and therefore about to choose her sex permanently. She believes one of her lovers will
become a woman while the other will stay a man; whichever gender she chooses for herself, she'll be
shutting the door on one person and committing to the other. It's a frequent Tober Cove dilemma, which
makes it a song of enduring popularity... except for people like Cappie who find it strikes too close to
home.

I soon realized the music was coming from the heart of the marsh, probably the patch of open mud
known as the duck flats. Despite the name, you seldom find ducks on the flats—they avoid the place
because the people of Tober Cove set so many traps for them there. The tradition is this: every year on
Commitment Eve, each candidate for Commitment sets a snare on the flats. If the gods want you to
choose a particular sex, they'll send a duck of that sex to tangle itself in your net; if the gods don't have
special plans for you, your net stays empty and you can choose whichever sex you like. Two decades
had passed since the last divinely inspired duck was netted. The Mocking Priestess attributed this to a
growing intelligence on the part of ducks... but of course, it was her job to say things like that.