"Glenda Larke - Heart of the Mirage" - читать интересную книгу автора (Larke Glenda)

temple and went on into the sanctum. I gave the oil to the priestess on duty,
and she used it to fill one of the votary lamps for me. I lit it and knelt in
prayer before the statue of Melete, and then, as countless thousands before
me, kissed the cold marble of her feet. My prayers were for the success of my
endeavours, and even more for my own safety. I'd long ago decided it was not
much use being a hero if you were also dead.
Yet even as I prayed, I wondered if it were any use. The statue appeared
lifeless, and so very manmade. A. man's vision of the perfect woman: mother,
whore, temptress. If deities were so powerful, why did they not visit us in
person, as legend told us they had once done? The old tales were full of
stories of people who spoke to the gods, but I'd never met anyone who admitted
he'd seen a deity face to face. I had a sneaking suspicion the gods had
vanished. Or that they were man's invention in the first place. Sacrilege, I
knew, for the temple told us we were all the creation of the gods, not the
other way around ...
'Domina Ligea?'
Startled, I turned my drifting thoughts to the woman who stood before me:
Antonia, the temple's High Priestess. I had never spoken to her before, and
she did not normally chat to devotees. I remained kneeling and inclined my
head. 'Reverence?'
I'd heard she was brought to the temple as a young girl, selected because of
her great beauty and virtue. Now she was more matronly than beautiful, but
regal nonetheless. And powerful. Had she withdrawn the support of the Cult of
Melete from the Exaltarch, she could have threatened his power base тАФ
although, knowing what I did of Exaltarch Bator Korbus, he would have had her
assassinated first.
'The Oracle requests your presence.'
She could not have astonished me more. The Oracle7, The Oracle did not speak
to Ligea Gayed. In fact, the Oracle rarely spoke, and when it did, it was to
kings and emperors or the very rich, not Compeers of the Brotherhood or even a
general's daughter. For one mad moment, I even wondered if the High Priestess
had mistaken me for someone else.
I stood, still puzzled. T am deeply honoured, Reverence.'
'You are indeed,' she said. Her voice was as dry as grape leaves in autumn.
She found my summons hard to believe too.
CHAPTER TWO
High Priestess Antonia took me behind the altar to the sanctum, that area of
the temple not open to the public. Deep inside the building, we entered a
small unoccupied room. 'I must blindfold you,' she said, taking a cloth from a
hook. She meant me no harm, I could sense that much, so I acquiesced. However,
with the blindfold on, I could see nothing and began to feel uneasy.
There was an odd noise, like the turning of a millstone grinding wheat. I
thought, Some kind of opening mechanism for a hidden entrance, and filed the
information away. Then she spoke again. 'There are stairs.' She hooked her arm
into mine to guide me. I resented her touch, disliking my dependency on her,
loathing my sudden sense of vulnerability.
A strong scent tickled my nostrils, redolent of some kind of incense, and
after that I lost time, and touch. I floated, weightless. I saw colours тАФ all
shades of red, orange or yellow, each shade with its own smell: essence of
poppies, wine, sulphur, wet earth, fermenting yeast. I think I laughed,