"Cook, Glen - Darkwar 03 - Ceremony" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cook Glen)

The three bath reported immediately. The Mistress of the Ship delayed a few minutes. Marika was irked by the delay, but said nothing. Mistresses of the Ship were that way, even when they served a most senior. They felt compelled to assert themselves.

She was tempted, briefly, to take the command position herself. She did not get to fly as much as she liked now that she was trying to drag an entire Community out of the despair brought on by the destruction of TelleRai.

The darkship dropped into the landing court of a packfast hidden far to the north, in territories all other meth believed had been abandoned to the ice. Senior Edzeka came out to meet Marika. She did not have much to say. Just another example of the widespread emotional paralysis Marika encountered everywhere.

"How may we serve you?" Senior Edzeka asked, and when Marika told her she wanted to see her friend, the tradermale Bagnel, the senior assigned her a guide and disappeared.

Following Marika's instructions, Bagnel had been treated as an honored guest. "Really more an honored prisoner," he said. "But I should complain? If I hadn't been here I'd probably be among the dead."

"They have kept you posted on the news?" Marika asked.

"Those two arfts still shadow you, I see," Bagnel said, nodding toward Grauel and Barlog. "Yes. It was a form of taunting, I suspect. They were certain whatever favor I enjoyed would be withdrawn." The male looked haggard for a moment, betraying the fact that he feared that might be why Marika had come.

"I have come to bring you out of hiding, to send you back to the brethren. Those who destroyed your bond, and Maksche and TelleRai are dead, scattered, or on the run. The brethren need new leaders-rational and reasonable leaders."

"I would be no puppet."

"We have been friends long enough for me to know that, Bagnel. If you pretended to be I would become more suspicious of you than I normally am."

"Of me?"

"Of course. You are brethren. I am silth. There is no way our interests will ever approach identity. But we can live together amicably. We have done before."

Bagnel looked at Grauel and Barlog for a moment. Marika had the distinct feeling that, more than ever, he wished her two old packmates elsewhere.

"So," he said. "Tell me Marika's plans. I hear you are most senior of the Reugge now."

"A temporary inconvenience. I will shed the mantle as soon as I can. I have another destiny. Out there." She pointed skyward. "My dream." She had shared her dream of the stars with no one but Grauel, Barlog, Bagnel, and a few meth whose goodwill would be critical in achieving it. Only the named three knew how much an obsession the stars were.

"I see."

"I have made certain arrangements on your behalf. Wherever you go when you return to the brethren, a small number of aircraft will remain available. The arguments were bitter, and I had to lie to convince some members of the convention, but the fact is, they're there for you. Because I know what my life would be like if I could no longer fly."

Bagnel bowed his head and said nothing for a long time. Then, "I am sure they have said terrible things about you, Marika. After what you did at the base at . . . But they do not know you. Thank you."

"I remember my friends as well as my enemies. The sisters here have instructions to see you prepared for the journey. I have a few things to do here before we depart. I hope you do not mind traveling blindfold."

Bagnel snorted. "I expected nothing else. This place, with its secret manufactories, would be too precious to you for you to do otherwise."

Marika shrugged. "Darkships are too precious to we silth to allow control of production or distribution to rest in outside paws. Were it not for this place the Reugge would have none left but mine after the battles in the Ponath and the destruction of Maksche and TelleRai.

"I will see you later. We will fly together again, as we did when we were innocent."

Marika was barely out of Bagnel's hearing when Barlog remarked, "You told Grauel you were no longer interested in Kublin's fate."

"I said nothing of the sort. I am no longer interested in making special dispensations for him, but he is still my littermate, even though he turned rogue. He is still the meth who was closest and dearest to me during my puphood years. Those days cannot be regained, but they need not be discarded."

The two huntresses exchanged glances. Marika knew they were thinking they would never understand her. To them she must seem an incongruous and incompatible mixture of sentimentalism and deadly cold ambition, too often subject to masculine weaknesses.