"Martha Wells - Wheel of the Infinite" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wells Martha)

walk was a minor annoyance. He had seen what the priest-shamans of the Sintane were like. But she had
saved his life, and it wasn’t as if he had anything to lose. Nothing matters, remember? You gave up
your honor, he reminded himself. At least she could have the courtesy just to admit that she was a
powerful wizard, but from what he had seen of the Kushorit and their Koshan priests since crossing the
Empire’s boundary, they were none of them entirely sensible people.
The leader of the Ariaden had come back from disposing of the puppet’s box and now stood staring
at Rian, his expression a grim glare. Considering that he was nearly a full two feet shorter, Rian didn’t find
it a particularly daunting sight. Rastim said, “I don’t know who you are, but you watch your step. She’s
an important lady in the Celestial Empire. A powerful lady.”
Rian shook his head and looked away to conceal his grin. No, really? When the obvious eluded him
to that extent, he would lay down in a hole and the little actor would be welcome to cover him up.
“What’s the Adversary, and how is it different from a Voice of the Ancestors?” He had been hearing
people swear by the Adversary most of the way through Gidale Province and more and more since he
had crossed the border into the Empire proper, but he had never heard what it was or that it had a voice.
Rian had learned Kushorit back in Riverwait, to speak to the provincial traders who travelled across the
Sintane to the mountain caravan trails, and who often brought important news of what the other Sitanese
Holder Lords were up to. He knew enough of the language for everyday conversations, but had never
learned the subtleties, and he had been unable to tell if the people were afraid of the Adversary, or
worshipped it, or both.
Rastim looked cautious, as if the question held a hidden trap. “What are you talking about?”
“You heard me. To the priests at the big temple, she said she used to be the Voice of the Adversary.
What did she mean?”
The Ariad’s face went still and sincere, by which Rian took to mean that he was about to hear a very
big lie. He wasn’t disappointed. Rastim glanced around, as if checking for hidden watchers, as if the rest
of the Ariad weren’t staring curiously at them from across the little circle of wagons, and said in a
whisper, “The Adversary’s a demon, the demon of all demons.”
Rian folded his arms and looked bored, because he knew that would annoy the little man more than
anything else. “That’s pig shit. The Koshans don’t believe in demons. We know that even in the Sintane,
play actor.” Nobody was really sure what the Koshan religion was, but they knew what it wasn’t, and it
didn’t have anything to do with the grubby cult of demon worship that had spread in some of the outer
provinces, with its curses and witching dolls and trading blood for supernatural favors. The odd thing was
the Koshan temples in the provinces hadn’t tried to stamp it out, the way the Dial priests had. The
Koshans had simply treated it with a supreme indifference that was more damning than any attack.
Rastim glared. “All right, all right. It’s some Koshan thing, like some spirit of bad luck and vengeance,
or something.”
“Bad luck?” Rian sounded skeptical, though he thought Rastim might be telling the truth now, at least
as he saw it.
“Bad luck and bad things that happen, something like that. And taking revenge on people. And
justice. If it was part of any sensible religion, they would call it a demon. They all get together and draw
lots for who has to be its Voice. A symbol for it is carved into the base of every doorway of every
temple, to scare other demons away.”
The last part sounded inexplicable and Koshan enough to be true, at least. Rian drew breath to
pursue the question, but from across the camp Maskelle said, “Rastim, we can’t stay here.”
She was standing by the banked fire, her arms folded, staring off into the night. Rastim muttered, “I
was afraid of that,” and went to her.
Impatiently she pushed her dark hair back from her face and in the glow of the firelight Rian could see
the loops and whorls of the Koshan tattoo, just at the edge of her hairline. She said, “We have to push on
to Illsat Keo tonight, or we’ll just have more trouble.”
 Rastim shook his head. “What good will that do? It will be just as bad there as here.”
“Not there. Illsat Keo is a Temple of the Adversary.”