"Sean Russell - The Initiate Brother 2 - Gatherer of Clouds" - читать интересную книгу автора (Russell Sean)

to a hush. It seemed only the chanting of the young monk moved the air, and the pedestrians hesitated as
though they’d suddenly forgotten the purpose of their outings.

There was a long moment of this eerie stillness, and then a deep roll of thunder shook the walls of
Rhojo-ma, seeming for all the world to have originated in the depths of the earth, so substantial did it feel.
The air took on form and turned to white as hail palted down in a sudden torrent. The staccato of ice stones
drumming on tile drowned out all other sounds, but in moments it reduced its volume to a mere drizzle, then
turned to rain.

At the first crash of thunder the residents of Rhojo-ma hurried to cover, leaving the monk alone on his wall,
still chanting, apparently oblivious to the pelting hail despite the thinness of his robe.

The monk’s recent benefactor stood under the bridge, hoping the downpour would not last and
contemplating the timing of his offering with the bursting of the clouds. It was not the blessing he had hoped
Botahara would bestow. He shook the hailstones from his robe, brushing the white pebbles off the shinta
blossom and flying horse emblems embroidered over his heart.

Several of Seh’s more humble residents shared the man’s refuge, but they stood apart from him and had
bowed deeply before stepping into the shelter, waiting for his invitation. Though still a very young man,
Corporal Rohku was a member of Governor Shonto’s personal guard and, as such, a person of some
importance despite his lack of years and low rank.

The corporal’s father was the Captain of Lord Shonto’s personal guard and it was the young man’s secret
hope to bear this rank himself in his time. Even more, it was his dream that the Rohku name would be
bound to that of the Shonto over generations of important service—as the Shigotu of old had attained fame
for their service as elite guards to seven generations of Mori Emperors. For the time being he would have
to accept a more humble position, for he was not sure that Lord Shonto even knew his name.

Beyond the shelter of the bridge, hailstones flowed down tiny rivers that ran between cobbles, disappearing
before they made their circuitous way to the canal. Cor-

poral Rohku found himself following their progress, trying to decide where the stones ceased to be ice and
became part of the water. A second rumble of thunder shook the earth and, as though this were a signal, an
ornate barge took form in the mist that hung over the canal. Before Rohku truly registered this, the barge
faded again, reappeared, and then disappeared wholly into the clouds as though it had been only a specter
of mist shaped by an errant eddy of wind.

Rain and hail forgotten, the Shonto guard mounted the stairs back to the avenue three at a time and ran out
onto the bridge. So absorbed was he in trying to part the clouds with an act of will that he failed to notice
the Neophyte monk was now standing at the bridge’s far end staring into the fog with equal focus.

They did not have long to wait, for the barge appeared again, this time in more substantial form. It was
intricately carved, painted crimson and gold, with banners hanging limp in the teeming rain.

One pennant did not need to stretch itself in the wind to be recognized for it was Imperial Crimson. A
five-clawed Imperial Dragon would circle the sun within those folds of silk. The other pennants were
unrecognizable.

Corporal Rohku waited with all the patience his young spirit could summon. A second barge, a typical river
craft, appeared in the wake of the Imperial Barge, for that is no doubt what it was. Just when the young