"McCay, Bill - Stargate Rebellion" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCay Bill)

have challenged for her position-and with a single murder doubtless not
only won back her office, but gained a staff of servants and warriors as
well. Having no successor closed off that path to getting aid. She
stared at this Thoth, so many generations removed from the First Time.
What did he think her capable of? The Thoth of her days had been a
scribe and an intriguer-his weapon of choice the pen rather than the
sword. She doubted that this soft-bodied Thoth could offer her much in
the way of backup-his servants would not be skilled in physical force.
Did he count on her to take on the entire warrior caste single-handed?
She turned to him and put her question into words. "What do you expect
of meRa it seems, is gone," he said. "Someone must put his house in
order." Ah, Hathor thought, the dangers of legend. He does expect me to
vanquish these would-be successors alone and unaided. Still, she felt
the promptings of her own ambition. She had thought to create the House
of Ra by way of the path of love. Would it be so different to create
the House of Hathor by way of the paths of war? "We have much to speak
of." She sniffed and frowned. "And already the air here grows stale."
Thoth gestured to the pile of gear at the entrance to the mastaba. "I
have here another suit for traversing the airless plain. And I have
arranged apartments-" he made a self-disparaging gesture. "Humble
apartments for one of your stature. But they're secure, and in a
little-traveled area of the old palace." Hathor nodded. After more than
eight millennia in a stone box, her physical needs were modest enough.
And it would certainly be better to retain the element of surprise.
"Speak to me of leaders," she said. "What factions contend for Ra's
throne? Which of the viceroys has the greatest personal strength? Which
the largest following? Is there yet an Anubis? Or did he follow Ra
into the void?" Thoth began the briefing even as he presented the
atmosphere suit. Hathor had worn these suits before. She knew their
limits. And, of course, in the timeless workings of Ra's empire,
technology did not change. She was ready to leave by the time Thoth had
sketched out the short list of candidates most likely to achieve
ultimate power. Hathor was most interested in his description of his
old criche mate, Sebek. She had never liked the crocodile god of her
days. And this Sebek not only had a reputation as a fierce fighter, he
had a strong and well-trained entourage. In Hathor's eyes that made him
a prime target. "Enough," she finally said. "Let us be out of here."
She activated her own headdress, and for the first time in eight
thousand years, the face of the Cat was seen once again. It was well,
Hathor thought. The cat, with its supple body and soft purr, was
dismissed by many as a creature of mere sensual pleasure. So it had
been in her career. Too late, those dismissing her had discovered that
this cat had much in common with her cousin the lion. Perhaps it would
be so for this Sebek, and the other godlets who would be Ra. On the
other hand, they might be like this Thoth, believing in legends that
gave her an overblown reputation. That could be useful as well. She
could make an example of a front-runner, this Sebek perhaps-and
terrorize the rest into submission. Kill one, frighten a thousand. She
had learned that equation on Ombos, extirpating the rebels there. Now
she would bring this same equation to Tuat. Although, she realized, it