"James C. Glass - Shanji" - читать интересную книгу автора (Glass James C)

from fearтАФand anger. A foreign seed lay within her; she could feel its fluid excess oozing. She felt
humiliated, dishonored, contaminated, unfit to be called Tumatsin. It seemed as if her vagina was
suddenly on fire, and tears came to her eyes. She suppressed a sob, lest ashizi be near. In her present
state, there would be no doubt which of them was the dominant animal.

When she was satisfied the men were gone she sat up shivering, removed the gag and pulled up her
pants. She cradled the knife in one hand, and for one brief instant considered plunging it into her own
heart. She was stopped by a single thought; her life had been spared, her humiliation a thing forced upon
her by another. Of what was she guilty?

Her feeling of self-disgust returned in moments, but by then the knife was returned to its sheath. She
breathed deeply and adjusted her clothing, crept out from the trees and sought a deeper calm by carefully
picking up the scattered threads of glowing fungus on the ground. One delicate thread at a time, she
refilled the sack, her normal night vision returning by the time she finished the simple task.
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She began to walk, and her momentary self-control dissolved again. She was suddenly shaking, her
knees giving way so that she fell twice before reaching the broad ridge trail. Her muffled sobs were of
shame, and grief, the grief of a woman violated and despoiled by the Hansui seed burning within her. Her
people would grieve with her, but Tumatsin law was clear. She would keep her status in society, but
there would be no marriage to Temujin, no children of his body for her, a life without family, a maiden
aunt to the children of others. Her hand went to the hilt of her knife, but again there was hesitation, an
instant of anger, and her knees stiffened.

Now she was running the trail, knife in hand, and it was as if daylight had come early. She growled low,
suddenly hoping ashizi would come after her, attacking within sight of the signal fire. She thought of
plunging the knife into its open mouth, the claws tearing at her stomach and groin, the foreign seed spilling
out with her blood as she stabbed again into an eye and through to the brain. Quite suddenly, Toregene
did not want to die. She wanted to kill. And with that thought came resolution not to so easily give up her
heart's desire, even if it meant giving up a virtue she'd been taught as a child. The virtue of honesty in all
things.

The signal fire was less than a kilometer ahead, and a shadow moved before it. Temujin? Had he waited
up for her? She was desperate for his embrace, his touch, that sweet breath in her ear as he held her. She
ran harder, dislodging skree that tinkled like broken porcelain down the steep slopes on either side of the
trail. More shadows around the fire, men standing up, watching her approach.

Three menтАФand Temujin was not one of them. She stumbled into the glowing circle of firelight, and fell
to her knees, gasping for breath as the men clustered around her.

"ShiziтАФchased meтАФI fell," she gasped. "On the far ridgeтАФtwo of themтАФand troopersтАФI don't know
how many. They saw meтАФcame afterтАФI ranтАФthen theshizi тАФIтАФ" Her breath exploded in a burst of
tears.

A man knelt before her to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. It was Kuchlug, Temujin's closest
friend. He pulled the knife from her clenched fist, and put it back in her sheath. "You're safe, now. The
cats have given up the chase. We saw the flyer over there a few moments ago. Temujin has gone down