"Paul McAuley - The Book of Confluence 02 - Ancients of Days" - читать интересную книгу автора (Mcauley Paul J)

 Syle said, "The pythoness entered a trance today. If she has said little to you, it is because
she is exhausted. You will see how hard divination is in two days' time, at the public inquisition."
"Syle likes to explain things," Luria said. "You will show him the progress you have made.
He will then explain it to me."
"Oh, pythoness, you should see how the thralls march!" Syle said again, and began to
describe the precision of the martial drills at length, falling silent only when the last course, iced
fruits and sweet yellow wine, was served.
Luria ate a token mouthful, then rang her bell. The praise-sayer fell silent. The meal was
over. Luria's chair arrived and she was helped into it by two tall strong attendants and carried
away. Another attendant took Daphoene's arm, and she rose and followed him with the childlike
trust of a sleepwalker. Her mouth hung open and there was a slick of drool on her chin.
As the thralls began to move out of the hall, followed by flocks of faint fireflies, Rega told
her husband, "You are kinder to Luria than she deserves. Certainly kinder to her than she is to
you, who works so hard for her."
Syle said mildly, "She worries all the time about the quit claim, and of course about the
public inquisition. We are all a little short of patience, these days."
Rega said, "Luria has her fine troops, who can march in formation all day long without
missing a step. Why should she worry about the quit claim?" She smiled sweetly at Tamora and
said, "You're doing your best, I'm sure, but you must wish for proper soldiers."
"We only have what we have," Syle said, again gazing at Yama. "I'm sure the thralls will
fight to the death."
"I'm sure they will," Rega said. She held out her hand, and her husband helped her to her
feet. Her round belly swayed, stretching the panels of her satin dress. She added, "A very quick
death it will be, too. Yama, Tamora, I don't blame either of you. Our good pythoness has said that
there will be victory, and so she does not trifle to provide the means to ensure it. Of course, it
isn't possible to sell even one tenth of her jewels and trinkets. Although she does not wear or use
any of them, they are heirlooms and cannot be sacrificed for anything as trivial as the defense of
the Department. And so we must make do, with the fate of the Department in the balance."
Tamora drew herself up. She was very angry. She showed her sharp white teeth and said, "If
you find anything I have done that does not satisfy you, then I will resign at once."
Syle made fluttering motions with his hands. "Please. Nothing of the sort is intended. I
myself have seen how well you have drilled our thralls. A thrilling sight, to see them march!"
"Then perhaps your reports have been misunderstood," Tamora said. "Excuse me. I have
work to do."
Syle caught Yama's arm and said quietly, "Walk with me, if you will."
Yama looked after Tamora, but she had leapt from the platform and was already halfway
across the refectory, the crowd of thralls parting before her as rice parts before the scythe. He
said, "Of course."
Syle's touch, its implication of familiarity, excited him.
 He felt the same quickening nervousness which had possessed him whenever he had
attempted a dive off the end of the new quay into the strong river currents in which the children
of the Amnan sported so easily. Not precisely fear, but an anticipation that heightened his senses.
He liked Syle too much to be afraid of him, and not only because the tall, slightly built man, with
his delicate bones, fine features, and white, feathery hair, reminded him of his sweetheart, Derev.
Syle had taught him much about the history of the Department of Vaticination and of its
trade of prognostication. There were very many ways of gaining foresight, Syle said, but almost
all of them were false, and those that remained could be divided into no more than three types.
The least of these was sortilege, the drawing of lots, or astragalomancy, the use of dice or buckle-
bones or sticks, neither of which, as Luria had pointed out, were practiced in the Department,
although they were much abused by charlatans. Of more merit were those methods classed as