"Kate Elliott - Jaran 4 - The Law of Becoming" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elliott Kate)

He swallowed the tears, forcing them down as he came back into camp. His throat choked on
them. Never cry, his mother had said, you are a prince's son. Don't play with those Vysotsky
boys; they aren't good enough for you. When your father comes, then they'll understand exactly
who you are and how much power you have. Well, they did understand who he was: He was a
bastard, the only child in the tribe who had no father and who never had had a father, despite what his
mother claimed. They understood exactly how much power he had, which was none.

Mother Kireyevsky used him as a servant, and the elders themselves had refused to make his
mother headwoman of the tribe, as she should have been after her own mother, his grandmother, had
died. Because they had all despised his mother as well. They had rejoiced when she had died two
winters ago. And he had learned how to survive their contempt and to endure alone.

As he crossed behind Mother Kireyevsky's tent, he heard messenger bells and saw, out beyond
the other tents, a figure swinging down from a spent horse. He would have liked to stop and look, but
he knew someone would tell on him if he faltered at all, so he walked on.

"Vassily!" His cousin Tamara called to him. "Give me those flasks. Go to Mother Kireyevsky at
once!" Her face was flushed.

He was too shocked to do anything but obey, but as he circled the tent and ducked under the
awning a sudden foreboding washed over him. Now what had he done wrong? What was she
going to punish him for?

"Aha!" said Mother Kireyevsky, catching sight of him. "You will attend me here, Vasha. You will
do exactly as I say, you will not speak one single word, and you will serve komis to our guest. Do
you understand?"

He nodded, mystified. She hurried away, and he knelt down and waited. What could this be
about? When guests came to visit at Mother Kireyevsky's tent, he was banished from the family circle
because he represented a shameful stain on the Kireyevsky line.

Mother Kireyevsky soon returned, bringing with her the messengerтАФwho was a woman! Dressed
in soldier's clothing, too! Vasha dutifully offered the woman a cup of komis, which she accepted
without looking at him. Tamara brought her food, and she ate with relish and politely complimented his
cousin on the meat and the fine texture of the sweet cakes.

Then, just as Vasha moved to offer her a second cup, Mother Kireyevsky said the fateful words.
"Ah, you are Bakhtiian's niece."

Vasha almost dropped the cup, but the woman took it from him as if she did not notice his shaking
hands. As the rest of the cousins and aunts and old uncles filtered in to listen, they lapsed into a long
discussion of the disposition of the Kireyevsky riders in the great jaran army, the army led by the great
general and prince, Ilyakoria Bakhtiian. This dragged on endlessly while Vasha stared surreptitiously
at Bakhtiian's nieceтАФNadine OrzhekovтАФfrom under the screen of his dark hair. As if by examining
her he could divine somethingтАФanythingтАФabout the man who was the greatest leader the jaran had
ever had, the man who commanded the combined jaran tribes in their war against their ancient
enemies, the khaja, the settled peoples.

"Vasha!" said Mother Kireyevsky tartly, no doubt divining his purpose in her turn and deciding