"Brown,.Mary.-.Unicorn's.Ring.2.-.1994.-.Pigs.Don't.Fly" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brown Mary)

to lose my mother, the shreds of my father's reputation and also find I
possessed a ridiculous name, then to be turned out into an unknown world with
nothing to my name and nowhere to goЧ
I burst into tears; angry, snuffly, hurt, uncontrollable, ugly tears. Now Mama
nad always taught me that tears were a woman's finest weapon. She had also tried
to teach me how to weep gently and affectingly, without reddening the eyes or
screwing up the face, but all my tears produced were embarrassment, red faces
and a rush for the door, just as if I had been found with plague spots.
"Back at dawn," called out the mayor. "We'll bring a hurdle for the body...."
The priest was the last to leave. "Not even one coin for the Masses?" I shook my
head.
I heard their footsteps retreating, then one set returning. The miller poked his
head round the door.
"Just wanted to sayЧwill miss your Ma. She was a lady. Sorry I can't take you in
like your brother, but the wife wouldn't stand for it." He turned to go, then
stopped. "Thought you might like to know; years after your dadЧdied-Чsomeone
else confessed to planting those stolen goods. Said he was jealous. Dead and
gone, now ... Hey there: no more tears! Could never abide to see a lass cry.
Here, there's a couple of coins for your journey. And don't worry, you'll ao
fine. I'll see the grave's kept nice," He sidled out through the door. "Sorry I
can't do more, but you know how it is...." "Yes," I said. "I know how it is...."
Alone, I sank to my knees beside the dying fire, my mind a muddle. Shock and
grief had filled my mind to such an extent I was incapable of thinking clearly.
All I
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wanted was for Mama to be back to tell me what to do, for I felt an itching
between my shoulder blades that told me I had forgotten something, and could not
rest till it was seen to.
A log crashed in the hearth and I started up. Mustn't let the fire die down,
tonight of all nightsЧBut why? Of course: tonight was All Hallows' Eve, the eve
of Samhain. Tonight was the night when the unshriven dead rode the skies with
the witches and warlocks and the Court of Faery roamed the earth... . Tonight
was the night that, every year, Mama and I closed and locked the shutters and
doors early, stoked up the fire and roasted chestnuts and melted cheese over
toasted bread, thumbing our noses at those spirits who moaned and cursed
outside, wanting to take our places and live again. But it was the fire that
kept them away, so Mama said, that and the songs we sang: "There is a time for
everything," or "After Winter cometh Spring," and "Curst be all who ride abroad
this night."
I rushed outside and brought in all the wood I could
father. Why bother to save any for the new whore? Let er seek her own. And she
had no daughter to fetch and carry as Mama had done: they would soon be sick of
her. I even emptied the lean-to of our emergency supply, running back and forth
under an uneasy moon, till the room was overflowing with faggots and logs.
Tonight we would have the biggest blaze ever, Mama and I.
By the time I had finished I was quite light-headed, even addressing the still
figure on the bed. "There you are, Mama! Enough to set the chimney alight!"
"And everything else ..." came a voice in my head. "Everything must go with
me.... Nothing left."