"Shirley Meier & S. M. Stirling - Fifth Millenium 05 - Shadow's Son" - читать интересную книгу автора (Meier Shirley)

usual; he didnтАЩt look like one who carried hidden knives, though, and the place was full, so Megan said,
тАЬCertainly.тАЭ They all swapped names, and she forgot his immediately.
тАЬYou are going to join the army, I guess,тАЭ he said, ordering wine. His Enchian was crisp and
accentless. тАЬSpirit infuse you.тАЭ
тАЬThank you.тАЭ Megan leaned back. тАЬWhere are they now?тАЭ
тАЬComing up fast on Roskat was the last I heard.тАЭ
ShkaiтАЩra whistled through her teeth. тАЬAt that rate, theyтАЩll be halfway to Arko before we catch them.
He moves, that king of yours. WeтАЩll have to stop lolling about and really ride.тАЭ
As Megan moaned, the Yeoli grinned, and made the hand-sign: palm up, itai, their word for chalk,
meaning yes. TheyтАЩd already gone through the old joke, How do you gag a Yeoli? Tie his hands
behind his back. тАЬHe always does things fast.тАЭ Almost religiously he added, тАЬItтАЩs not king, though. ItтАЩs
semanakraseye.тАЭ The-people-wills-one. Every Yeoli, without exception, would make that correction;
one was almost tempted to say тАЬkingтАЭ just to get a rise out of them.
TheyтАЩd heard no Invincible or Immortal, though; his own peopleтАЩs only nickname for him was
amiyaseye: beloved. Mostly they just called him Chevenga, as if they knew him personally.
 тАЬYou are fighters by trade?тАЭ he asked.
тАЬShkaiтАЩra here could say yes to that,тАЭ Megan answered, тАЬbut I am a merchant. I own the Slaf
Hikarme, FтАЩtalezon. And for now: horse-dealers. My aching calvesтАФserver! More painkiller.тАЭ
тАЬMy craft is one that didnтАЩt exist here two years ago,тАЭ the Yeoli said, somewhat proudly.
тАЬBrickmaker.тАЭ
The sleeve of his brown cotton shirt caught on the table and slid up slightly, showing a wrist scarred
in a way Megan knew: from a manacle.
тАЬYes ... I learned it under their whips. They made us work so hard people died, broke their backs,
their hearts ... thereтАЩs not just sweat mixed into what this cityтАЩs built out of, but blood too, lots of blood.
The mark Arkans leave on a land, wherever they go. A year, it was. They wanted to make me an
overseer, but I said IтАЩd die first. I ended up a sort of manager.тАЭ
тАЬWhen the city was liberated, the warriors broke our chains. We were so happy, we decided we
would torch the works. Smoky black torture-chamber, where we lost so many friends ... But the
warriors said no, there were orders, no sacking was allowed. We began arguing, someone got the flat of
a blade on the head that cut him somehow, and next thing we knew it was a fight, bricks flying
everywhere, Yeoli against Yeoli. When there hadnтАЩt even been a fight for the city ... so senseless. I guess
being treated like a beast makes you think like one.тАЭ
тАЬThen there are warriors among us, talking calm, getting between people, and we hear this hoarse
voice in the middle of it. тАШChen! Stop! You lunatics, what are you child-raping doing? WhereтАЩs the
God-in-you? Yeoli, you want to hit a Yeoli with a brick, hit me!тАЩ Everything goes quiet all of a sudden.
Everyone who doesnтАЩt know his face knows the official collar. Or justтАФwell, thereтАЩs just something
about him that says heтАЩs him. Aiigh, did we feel like idiots!тАЭ
тАЬHe jumps up on a stack of bricks, calling for his herald. We all want to explain ourselves, I guess, so
the chant starts, тАШBurn the works! Burn the works!тАЩ He holds up his arms for silence, yells, whistles
war-codes, nothing works. Finally he pulls one brick out of the stack, and underhands it high up into the
sky over us; everyone gets a little quieter then, trying to see where that brick is going to come down. тАШ
Listen!тАЩ he yells in the meantime. You are slaves no longer! YouтАЩre a workfast, if you want to be!тАЭ
тАЬтАШYou can work the time you want to,тАЩ says he, when we shut up, тАШset up the place your way, sell at
your price and the profitтАЩs all yours. No one will ever crack the whip on you again. ThereтАЩs nothing
wrong with these things; theyтАЩre made of good Yeoli clay and straw, the Arkans just have a good trick
for building that theyтАЩve generously passed on to us. And you are the only ones who know it.тАЩтАЭ
тАЬтАШBut itтАЩs torture to work in there!тАЩтАЭ someone cuts in.
тАЬтАШAre you awake?тАЩ he says. тАШHavenтАЩt you noticed, youтАЩre free? You can change that, make it good!
Or walk away and do something else. But think of all the rebuilding that needs to be done all over the
plains, where thereтАЩs not much stone or wood. Whoever stays is going to be making money hand over