"Janet Morris - Silistra 1 - High Couch of Silistra" - читать интересную книгу автора (Morris Janet E)

chain after the child has ~been produced. Also the chaldra of the mother and father, the task set by the parent of the
same sex, symbolized by the red chain before completion
and the blue when the task is done. The chaldra to the Stand of Well is high also, and the chain is al-ways silver.
Low-chaldra are such as the chaldra of couch-bond between a man and a woman, recog-nized by the pinkish titrium
chain, or of skill, such as the black-iron Slayer's chain, or of vocation or avocation, as the Day-Keeper's slate-colored
chain or the golachit breeder's brown. There are over two hundred chaldric chains, if one counts both high and low.
I still wear my chald of eighteen intertwined chains. Once it lay snugly across my navel, but I have lost much weight in
this dreadful place, and now it slaps annoyingly about my lower abdomen as I labor at the senseless tasks set me by
my inscruta-ble masters.
I was marked from birth for this end, and all saw it, but none understood. I was born out of couch-bond to
Well-Keepress Hadrath Banin diet Inderi by an out-worlder known only as Estrazi. My mother carried me thrice the
normal term, and died birthing me on the twenty-five thousandth anniversary of Well Astria.
How much my mother knew of my fate is still open to conjecture, but until I received her legacy, and another, on my
three hundredth birthday, I thought myself little different, if more favored, than my couch-sisters. The second bequest
came in the form of a let-ter from my great-grandmother Astria, to be opened upon the three hundredth anniversary of
my birth. The letter, which I received in the office" of Rathad, my dead mother's half-brother and adviser to my Well,
had my full name upon it and the date, Macara fourth seventh, 25, 693, and was written eight hun-dred and forty years
before I was born.
The letter lay between us on the table of thala-wood that I had shipped down from the northern forests as a gift to my
mother's brother almost a full year ago. A silver cube lay beside the envelope, yel-low with age, upon the night sky of
the thala. The reflections deep within the wood seemed to go on for-ever.
Musicians tuning, laughing, limbering through their scales mixed with kitchen clank and the gol-master's hoarse calls
as he set the golachits to their building. I did not rise from my seat to watch them at work in the Inner Well amid the
bustle of the Well as it is rising, as I might have on another day. Nor did the smells of the morning meal, of baking
bread and roasting meat, entice me. My appetite had dis-appeared with Rathad's summons. My recalcitrant
precognitive gift had given me no warning, nor any information as to why, on this, the one day of the year on which I
habitually secluded myself, seeing and speaking to no one, he had sent for me. On this day had he sent a messenger to
summon me from my solitude. I had run the distance here to Rathad's keep, filled with foreboding, leaving the
messenger in the exercise hall staring, undismissed, openmouthed at my undignified haste.
When I reached the mirrored doors and burst through them, I was badly winded. Rathad did not so much as raise his
grizzled head to me in greet-ing, but waved me to the dark carven chair, silent, staring fixedly at the two objects on the
table between us.
My breathing was no longer labored when Rathad, his fingers upon the silver cube, raised his eyes to mine.
"Daughter of my sister," he said, "have you, per-haps, knowledge of these things before me, that you have arrived
here so swiftly?"
I shook my head no, and his jibe passed unan-swered, though at any other time I would have be-rated him for
disturbing me.
He sighed. "One might hope that the foreseeing abilities of your mother, and, it seems, your great-grandmother"—his
hand was on the envelope— "might someday manifest in you. You have no idea, then, why I sent for you today, or
even why you showed such uncharacteristic haste in presenting yourself to me?"
"None at all." I am a very weak foreseer. "Did you call me to discuss my psychic debilities? If so," I said, rising, "I will
return to my day's undertakings." I did not care for the amused condescension in his voice.
"Will you indeed? I doubt it. Now, sit back down. Good. It would be a sad thing, Estri, if you let our personal
differences prevent you from receiving this message from your mother, and this ... ah, shall we say, unusual
communication from the Foundress of the Well herself." He was leaning back in his chair, fondling his chald, a smile
playing around his lips.
"What mean you, Rathad? Do not toy with me."
"I mean but what I say, Well-Keepress. This," he said, picking up the silver cube, each side of which was the length of
my middle finger, "is a recording device, popular in the days of my youth. When your mother knew herself pregnant
with you, she came to me with it and asked that I deliver it to you at this time. She knew she would not survive your