"George R. R. Martin - WC 4 - Aces Abroad" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin George R R)

intense gaze snared her. "It's Allah's presence that gleams," he said, his voice
gruff with habitual arrogance. "You've never heard me complain, Misha, even in
the heat of summer. Do you think me a woman, wailing my futile misery to the
sky?"
Above the veils, Misha's eyes narrowed. "I am Kahina, the Seer, Najib," she
answered, allowing a hint of defiance into her voice. "I know many hidden
things. I know that when the heat ripples over the stones, my brother Najib
wishes that he were not Nur al-Allah, the Light of Allah." Najib's sudden
backhanded cuff caught his sister across the side of her face. Her head snapped
sideways. Scalding hot tea burned her hand and wrist; the cup shattered on the
rugs as she sprawled at his feet. His eyes, utter black against the luminescent
face, glared at her as she raised her hand to her stinging cheek. She knew she
dared say no more. On her knees she gathered up the shards of the teacup in
silence, mopping at the puddle of tea with the hem of her robe.
"Sayyid came to me this morning," Najib said as he watched her. "He was
complaining again. He says you are not a proper wife."
"Sayyid is a fatted pig," Misha answered, though she did not look .up.
"He says he must force himself on you."
"He doesn't need to do so for me."
Najib scowled, making a sound of disgust. "Pah! Sayyid leads my army. It is his
strategy that will sweep the kafir back into the sea. Allah has given him the
body of a god and the mind of a conqueror, and he is obedient to me. That's why
I gave you to him. The Qur'an says it: `Men have authority over women because
Allah has made the one superior to the other. Good women are obedient.' You make
-a mockery of Nur al-Allah's gift."
"Nur al-Allah shouldn't have given away that which completes him." Now her eyes
came up, challenging him as her tiny hands closed over the pottery shards. "We
were together in the womb, Brother. That's the way Allah made us. He touched you
with His light and His voice, and He gave me the gift of His sight. You are His
mouth, the prophet; I am your vision of the future. Don't be so foolish as to
blind yourself. Your pride will defeat you."
"Then listen to the words of Allah and be humble. Be glad that Sayyid does not
insist on purdah for you-he knows you're Kahina, so he doesn't force your
seclusion. Our father should never have sent you to Damascus to be educated; the
infection of the unbelievers is insidious. Misha, make Sayyid content because
that will content me. My will is Allah's will."
"Only sometimes, Brother..." She paused. Her gaze went distant, her fingers
clenched. She cried out as porcelain lacerated her palm. Blood drooled bright
along the shallow cuts. Misha swayed, moaning, and then her gaze focused once
more.
Najib moved a step closer to her. "What is it? What did you see?"
Misha cradled her injured hand to her breast, her pupils wide with pain. "All
that ever matters is that which touches yourself, Najib. It doesn't matter that
I hurt or that I hate my husband or that Najib and his sister Misha have been
lost in Allah's roles for them. All that matters is what the Kahina can tell Nur


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