"Angus Wells - Exiles 01 - Exile's Children" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wells Angus)

Arrhyna, as if his first sight of the Tachyn girl had hooked his heart and bound it firm. Had Morrhyn not
known better, he might have wondered if the maiden had entranced Rannach, delivered him some love
potion that enslaved him with ropes of blind desire; but from Matakwas past he knew her for a modest girl,
seemingly unconscious of her beauty. He did not believe she had worked some magic on Rannach but
only been herself, and Rannach had fallen honestly— and totally— in love with her. Which, of course, was
the strongest magic of all, and in the circumstances perhaps the worst.
Morrhyn grunted as he straightened, absently cursing the years that tolled their count in the stiffening of
his limbs, and nodded greeting as Rannach smiled and waved, hoping his silence should indicate to the
warrior his aversion to conversation. He had no desire at that moment to speak with the young man: he
knew where the conversation must go, what he would say and what Rannach would reply, and that it must
leave him further troubled. He needed to think, to ponder his dream and the days to come, to determine
what part Rannach and Arrhyna might play in the future of the Commacht; indeed, in the future of all the
People.
It would all, he thought as he burrowed deeper into his robe and turned from the stream, be so much
easier if Vachyr did not court the girl: if Vachyr were not Chakthi’ s son, or Chakthi so intransigent. But
these things were immutable as the Maker’ s Mountain. Intermarriage amongst the clans was not unusual,
and if Rannach paid court to any other Tachyn maiden, likely Chakthi could find no cause for objection.
The Maker knew the Tachyn akaman held little enough love for the Commacht, but he would likely not
argue Rannach’ s pursuit of some maiden other than Arrhyna, only urge the parents set an exorbitant
bride-price. That his only child pursued the same maiden changed everything: Chakthi would bring all his
influence as akaman to bear, seeking to deliver Vachyr whatever— or, in this case, whoever— the warrior
desired. Chakthi’ s love of his son was blind and, since his widowing, untempered by feminine influence.
Nor did Morrhyn believe Hadduth likely to do other than second his akaman, even though it was the
wakanisha’ s duty to consider the greater good, the welfare of all the People. Hadduth, he could not help
thinking, was a cringing dog to Chakthi’ s wolf: when Chakthi howled, Hadduth barked his support. It
needed no dreaming to prophesy this looming future. Rannach was headstrong in his pride, and should
Vachyr contest with him, should it come to a challenge…
That, Morrhyn thought, he had rather not consider. Save he must, for he was wakanisha of the Commacht
and his burden was the contemplation of fate’ s weaving. It was a burden he accepted, delivered when
Gahyth saw him for a Dreamer, but it brought him little pleasure. Its weight sat heavy; nor was it shared,
for amongst the young men of the Commacht he could discern none with the talent. He was not yet so old
he need worry about that absence, but the time must surely come when he need teach another the art. He
thought that then he must perhaps turn to another clan, to persuade some likely candidate to take the
oaths and vow fealty to the Commacht. And did it come to that, he would not look for his successor
amongst the Tachyn.
A voice intruded then on his musings, and he saw that he had come absentminded amongst the lodges.
Lhyn called to him from the mouth of Racharran’ s tent and he smiled at sight of her, old memories, old
longings, stirring ruefully. Gray strands wove through her hair now, but they seemed only to make the gold
glow brighter, as if silver joined the molten flow; and were there lines upon her face, they served only to
emphasize her beauty. Once, perhaps… But Morrhyn shoved the thought away. Lhyn had made her
choice and he would not argue it; had not then, when he saw her eyes grow moist as she denied him and
told him she went to Racharran, and could not now, when he saw her happy. He raised a hand and went
toward her, still not quite able to stem the swift thudding of his heart. Perhaps, he thought, I am not so old
after all.
“ I’ ve pan bread readying,” she told him, “ and Racharran brought home a deer. Shall you eat with us?”
She held the lodge flap open as she spoke, knowing he would not demur.
Morrhyn beamed as the smells wafted tempting to his nose and said as he entered the lodge, “ Our
akaman is, indeed, a great hunter of deer.”
“ As our wakanisha is of dreams,” Racharran answered, chuckling from across the lodge fire. “ Sit, my
friend, and fill your belly.”