"Friesner, Esther - Star Trek - TNG 46 - To Storm Heaven(1997)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Friesner Esther M)

Prologue

"DEATH!" OLD SE'AR MOANED, writhing in pain on her
pallet. "Ay me, death is coming!"
"Hush, you're ill. Lie quietly," the maiden soothed,
kneeling on the hard floor of beaten earth. "You must
save your strength if you want to get well, Mother
Se'ar, you know that."
"Well..." The old woman repeated the word as if
it were one of the local oberyin's magical healing
chants. She shook her head. "Do not lead me astray
with false hopes, child. I am old. I know what I know;
and I have always known when death would come." A
hollow chuckle escaped her fever-cracked lips.
Yes, she thought wearily. Death has been to me the
best of friends. The best of husbands as well. Has not:
death himself fed me, clothed me, provided for me all
these years? I know when it will come, when the soul
will leave the shell and find the glories of distant
Evramur. Always before I have been right in my
predictions, but always before it was another's death I
saw approaching. Aloud she said, "Now it is my turn
at last."
"Don't speak of that," the maiden insisted. "Your
time has not yet come."
"And how would you know?" A sudden burst of
indignation flared up from the old woman's fading
spirit. She made a great effort, heaving herself up on
one elbow, and stabbed an accusing finger at the girl
beside her. "Don't give yourself airs, just because I've
taken you in. For your mother's sake I've let you share
my roof, my bread, the fear-offerings of our friends
and neighbors, but you don't share my gift! How dare
you presume--" A sudden fit of coughing racked her
bony body and she sank back down onto the sweat-
stained sheet. The reeking straw beneath the coarse
cloth crunched and crackled.
The maiden got up swiftly, gracefully, and fetched a
clay bowl full of fresh milk, the cream beaten back
into it to fortify the sick woman. She set it to Se'ar's
lips and helped her drink. Only when the old woman
had had enough and waved her off did she say, "I
didn't mean it that way, Mother Se'ar. I know I have
no gift like yours." She lowered her head as if in
submission to the will of the gods, but beneath the
.fringe of blue-green hair, her eyes blazed with resent-
ment.
The old woman seemed not to have heard the girl's
words. Outside the hut the sun was setting, staining