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

birth." I heard the bitterness in his voice. It was common knowledge that Rathad considered his sister's self-sacrifice
ill-conceived, and had urged her to abort me. Because it was his chaldra to do so, he had brought me up. I am sure he
would rather have drowned me upon the day of my birth, so great was his love for my mother, Hadrath.
"And this," he continued, fingering the yellowed envelope, "this comes to us through the kindness of Day-Keeper
Ristran, who attests to its authenticity, and bids me to tell you it has lain in the Hall of Records these eight hundred
and forty years, await-ing your maturity.
"I have not opened either of them, nor do I have any information as to their contents. I have my sup--positions, of
course, the validity of which we will as-certain here together." Again that deeply seasoned face smiled at me. Rathad's
smile has always made me nervous. It is the smile of the predator upon a new kill.
His hand closed about the silver cube, and he shook
it. A dull rattle dame from it. "As is often the case with such containers, there is something within." He placed the cube
carefully beside the envelope.
"Which one, which will you explore first, Estri?"
I grabbed for the silver shape so fast I brushed his retreating hand. He had not made clear to me the significance of the
letter, except that it was old and that it had been in the possession of the Day-Keep-ers, those among us who study
the past and keep its legacy. In any case, I, who had never seen my moth-er's face or heard her voice, had in my hands
that which she had meant for her daughter to hold. Emo-tion roared through me like the Falls of Santha. My hands
shook and my tongue attached itself to the roof of my dry mouth.
I held it, turning the metal cube in my fingers. My mother's name rang in my head. I searched for my voice.
"How does it work?" I asked finally. I had seen two small circular insets, and above them a larger tri-angular one, all on
one side of the object. The other sides were, as far as I could determine, featureless. I was afraid, suddenly, that I might
somehow damage it before its long-held secrets could be revealed.
"Hold the cube with the circles uppermost." I did so.
"Farther away from you. Now, press once firmly upon the triangle." I did this also, and a rectangular section halfway
down the cube's surface slid back, and then from the opening extruded a dished bar, metal on all sides but the one
facing me, which was composed of two lenses recessed in a metal frame.
"Put the eyepiece against your eyes so that the metal bar between is in contact with the bone at the bridge of your
nose. Now, press the left-hand circle, once only."
I held the expanded cube before my eyes. It was contoured so that it rested against the bones of my face snugly,
letting in no light. I pressed the left-hand circle.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then I saw her.
She was standing before a window set into umber gol, the same shade as Rathad's keep. Her dress was the simple
wide-sleeved white and silver of the Keepress, chald-belted, and flowing translucent to the floor. Her belly seemed a
trifle rounded, but her breasts were high and firm, the nipples standing well up. I thought her much more beautiful than
I. Her skin was the rare Silistran white, transparent and delicate. Her eyes were the gray-green of the predawn sky. Her
hair was the color of the finest northern thala, black, blue, and glistening silver. She was smaller than I, wider-boned.
Otherwise we were much alike. Her nose was as mine, deliciously straight, chiseled, and haughty. I could see her
nostrils flaring as she breathed. Her mouth, also, was like mine, full, sen-suous, with a touch of cruelty at each
indented cor-ner. Her cheekbones were high and wide, her chin tiny yet firm, with the subtlest hint of a cleft in its
middle. But for the size and coloring, her stamp was heavy upon me.
She raised a fine-boned hand to her forehead, and then I heard her voice, musical and breathy.
"Little one, spark of life that kicks and twists in-side me, now that the moment is here, I do not know how to say what I
must. Since you have received this, my life has been well-bartered." My mother cleared her throat, rubbing her belly
absently with her hands.
"I have some fear that Rathad and others may press guilt upon you. Let me assure you, by my own mouth, that you
were conceived in love, with full understand-ing of the consequences, and, values weighed, that my Me for yours is
little to give.
"Oh, Estri, for that is the name you will bear, at this time in my life, when I most wish to be warm and loving, to give
you all of motherhood and sus-taining purpose in a few short moments, I find my-self cold with fear and stiff with
self-consciousness. How will you see me, daughter? I did not desert you willingly. The arrangements for your