"Greg Keyes - Chosen of the Changeling 2 - Blackgod" - читать интересную книгу автора (Keyes J Gregory)

the Jik.”

“I live only to serve the River,” Ghe replied. And he meant that, with all of his heart, both of him; Ghe
then and Ghe in the water.

But now he could see the he, of course. The great lie that was the priesthood. They existed not to serve
the River but to keep him bound. Those whom the River blessed were given their power for a purpose,
so that he might walk the land rather than live torpidly within his banks—so that the god of the River
might roam free. And the priests bound the River’s children, though they pretended to worship him. If
one worshipped a god, would not one help it realize its dreams? What matter to the River if a few
buildings were crushed in the pangs of birth, a few Human Beings died? The River took in the souls of
all when they died anyway; he drank them up. All belonged to him.

Far from worshippers, Ghe could see now, the priests were the enemies of the River. They had fought
for centuries to keep the Royal Blood checked, diluted. That was why they had set him to kill Hezhi, the
emperor’s daughter—kill that beautiful, intelligent girl. And he would have done it, had not her strange
barbarian guardian been unkillable! Ghe had stabbed him in the heart with a poisoned blade, and still he
stood back up, chopped off Ghe’s head— He flinched away from that thought. Not yet. However it had
happened, it was fortunate that he had not slain Hezhi. Much depended upon her, he realized. The River
had many enemies plotting against him, and now Ghe, the River’s only true and loyal servant—now he
had those enemies. And he knew his task with a wonderful, radiant certainty. His task was to save Hezhi
from her foes, for she was the River’s daughter, and more. She was his hope, his weapon. His flesh.

Soon enough, Ghe knew, he would open his eyes, would creep back up to the light, take up his weapons,
and make his way where Rivers do not flow. A wrong would be righted, a god would be served, and

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 THE BLACKGOD

perhaps, just perhaps, he would once again kiss a princess.




PART ONE

Mansions of Bone


I

The Mang Wastes

Hezhi Yehd Cha’dune, once-princess of the empire of Nhol, yelped as what weight her small body
possessed was suddenly stolen from her in an explosion of force and wind as the thief— her horse Dark
—shook all four hooves free of the earth. For a moment they hung almost still above the uneven slope of
shattered stone and snow, but Hezhi knew—knew in her belly—that when they struck back down the
mare would just keep falling, tumbling head-over-tail down what seemed almost a sheer grade. She
doubled her hands in Dark’s mane and leaned against her neck, straining to hang on to the barrel-shaped
torso with her legs, but when the horse’s hooves were reunited with the ground—first front and then