"Mercedes Lackey - Alta" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

Perhaps they were neither; it was altogether possible that they were a kind
of eunuch. He didn't find that idea as discomfiting as he might have once;
if the Mouths were a sort of eunuch, it was not something that had
happened against their will. And certainly there were priests of certain
obscure gods even among his own people who volunteered for such a
sacrifice. Some believed that those who had done so obtained the special
favor of their god; others that to remove sex from one's life opened one to
visions, or granted great magical power. For some, such a sacrifice was
worth the gain.

This particular Mouth was regarding Vetch from the other side of a
smaller fire than the one that had heated Avatre's rocks, watching with a
direct and clear-eyed gaze over the veil. The Mouth had asked Vetch to tell
his tale in full, and now had been simply regarding him quietly for some
time now, but Vetch hadn't made any effort to ask why. The Mouth would
tell himтАФor notтАФin good time. Vetch still wasn't entirely certain what role
the Mouths played in the lives of the Veiled Ones; they didn't seem to be
priests, quite. They weren't exactly magicians, either, although they did
work magic, the magic that created the talismans that guided him from
clan to clan, for instance. They certainly were the only ones who spoke to
outsiders, but they weren't precisely interpreters, nor were they
ambassadors. All bargaining with outsiders was conducted by them, yet
they were not traders. And they weren't leaders of their people either.

In fact, if he could have guessed anything at this point, it would have
been that they were, literally, the voices of their clans, that somehow they
knew what everyone in the clan thought, or wanted, with regard to an
outsider, and they were the tool through which these wants, thoughts, and
needs were expressed.

But they certainly had their own personalities, for every single one he
had encountered so far was as different from the last as any two
individuals could be. Some had barely spoken at all and held themselves
coldly aloof from him; others had been positively garrulous, interested to
hear whatever of his own story he cared to impart, and forthcoming with
news of the world outside the desert, if not of details of their own lives and
customs. Some had been terrified of Avatre, others treated her like a kind
of giant falconтАФwith the respect that talons and teeth deserved, but no
fear at all.

This one was somewhere in between, but operating on the "helpful"
side of the accounting. The Mouth had been wary of Avatre and inclined
to keep Vetch and his charge far away from the Bedu camp, but otherwise
friendly enough. The Mouth had asked careful questions about Vetch's life
as a serf as well as his treatment by the Tian JoustersтАФAri in
particularтАФand about the journey that had brought them here. Perhaps
Avatre's gift of meat had paved the way for that. And this Mouth sat at
Vetch's fire now as if wishing to be there, and not as if mounting guard
over the "outsider."