"Stephen Goldin - Storyteller" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goldin Stephen)

others to stand in his way; when Aeshma was totally free, the world would quake and Oromasd's ally,
mankind, would vanish from the face of the earth.

CHAPTER 2

The Princess


King Basir of Marakh, who called himself “the Blessed,” was a man who worried. He was a short,
plump man. Years of ruling Marakh had turned his hair prematurely gray and furrowed his wide
forehead. His balding head could be hidden beneath his turban, but his gray beard, which grew in uneven
patches on his face, was visible for all the world to see. The doctors told him its irregular growth was due
to his constant worrying—but rather than setting his mind at ease, that only made him worry more that his
appearance was less than regal and his subjects would not respect him.

King Basir wanted to be a great monarch. He wanted his people to love and respect him. He wanted his
enemies to fear and respect him. He wanted his allies merely to respect him. But inspiring those emotions
in others was never easy. There were so many decisions to be made all the time, and he was never sure
what the right answers were. If he ruled harshly he was called a tyrant; if he showed mercy he was
labeled weak. Worst of all, if he tried to take some middle position he was accused of being indecisive
and everyone ended up despising him.

He knew what a good king, a strong king, should be. He grew up with a living example. His father, King
Alnath, was universally regarded as a powerful monarch. It was King Alnath who expanded Marakh's
hegemony south and west across the Shiraz Plains, and east well into neighboring Formistan. King Alnath
was a feared warrior and a stern ruler who'd commanded respect from friend and foe alike. Even now,
with King Alnath dead these past twenty-seven years, the neighboring lands still respected the power of
Marakh even though King Basir had added nothing to the kingdom since taking the throne. Thus does a
good reputation stand its holders in good stead long after its basis has vanished.

King Alnath tried to instill in his son the lessons of power. He would hold mock councils in which young
Prince Basir had to make decisions of state. Every time the prince made the wrong decision, King Alnath
would publicly mock him before his wazirs. Often the prince was beaten as well. In this way did King
Alnath seek to ensure that his successor would be a man who thought carefully and made no bad
decisions. His son, he vowed, would be an even better king than he was, because he would have learned
from his father's mistakes.

It was with these high expectations of him that King Basir ascended to the throne of Marakh. But with
his father always held up to him as an example of what a king should be, Basir knew he could never be
strong enough, never be wise enough, never be brave enough to meet those demanding standards. He
also knew he never dared admit those self-doubts publicly. Each decision, however small, was an agony
to him, until he worked himself into such a state that his stomach was in constant pain and he could eat
only the blandest of foods.

As a further disappointment in his life he produced four daughters, but no sons. He was certain,
somehow, that the fault lay with him, that he was not strong enough to sire sons, and out of guilt he
lavished attention on the princesses—and particularly on Oma, his oldest daughter.

From an early age she had the finest tutors and was given the best education any woman could expect.
She could read and write, and she debated well with the best scholars in the land. She played