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

hear about this trip.тАЭ
тАЬArko,тАЭ Megan said. тАЬBusiness. Is Shyll home yet? I want to talk to everyone about this.тАЭ
Rilla put the basket down. тАЬNo, heтАЩll be back for the evening meal. Do you mean business in Arko,
Meg? Nobody does that who isnтАЩt Arkan.тАЭ
тАЬMy agentтАЩs found Lixand.тАЭ
Rilla froze, silent, then nodded.
Megan turned away up the stairs, the soft sigh of the door closing cutting off a question of SovaтАЩs,
and walked back to her office. The setting sun shone red through the west window, touching the rim of
the city over the Lake Quarter. She would come out when Shyll came home, she decided. She shuffled
the papers with one hand, staring at the words without reading them, looking at the bloody light from the
setting sun on her fingers, remembering.
Lixand, my son. SheтАЩd borne him at fourteen, on the old Zingas Brezhani, River Lady, docked in
Bjornholm. I swore youтАЩd be my son, with nothing of him in you. Baby, born in blood and pain, I
nearly gave my life for you. Too big for me, you were, my firstborn, ensuring you would be my last
. Soft blond hair under her fingers as he nursed, eyes that were blue like his at first, because he was an
Arkan, but then turned dark like hers, thank Koru, blinking sleepily ...
Sarngeld, the captain, her owner. Atzathratzas was his real name, or part of it, every Arkan tacks
on all the formal-sounding titles he can dig upтАФbut no Zak could pronounce all those consonants.
Solas, warrior caste. Nursing, sheтАЩd had too much of a womanтАЩs rounded shape to interest him.
Ex-Arkan, ex-soldier. May your soul freeze and burn at once in Halya.
My son. The day you were weaned, how you were weaned ... HeтАЩd been two, both running and
speaking, knew already to avoid the captain. He was on deck, dealing with another Arkan, in their
clipped, snobbish tongue, hands hidden in gloves. The baby heard his tread before she did, looking away
from the wood and string rattle she was dangling for him. She gathered him into her arms and stood up,
big toddler though he was.
SarngeldтАЩs face was twisted in a frozen sort of smile she couldnтАЩt read. тАЬCome, girl.тАЭ I couldnтАЩt fight
him anymore: for your sake, my son. You were his hold on me. The wooden slave-links locked
around her wrists, the chains, to the staple in the floor of the cabin, which he hadnтАЩt used for a year ...
Lixand had screamed a babyтАЩs bird-high shriek as Sarngeld tried to pull him from her
chained-together arms. The black crash in her head as he hit her, the only way to make her let go. My
son. You couldnтАЩt know what he would do.
тАЬSarngeld, master, leave me my baby, please donтАЩt drown him. Please, heтАЩs your son, donтАЩt kill him.
Please, heтАЩs only a baby. DonтАЩt, please, master.тАЭ She begged in a way she had never begged before.
SheтАЩd never willingly called him master, got down on her knees, on her face. My son. I would have
done anything.
тАЬKill the brat?тАЭ He laughed at her. тАЬHeтАЩs worth money!тАЭ
Maybe I knew what all that would mean, for the years ahead. SheтАЩd screamed and lunged to the
end of her chain. All she could do was tear her fingers bloody on the wooden links, maddened, and
scream her childтАЩs name as his father carried him on deck. To the other Arkan, just before the ship cast
off for the day. тАЬLixaaaaaaand!тАЭ If she screamed it enough, maybe he would remember it.
Later that night, Katrana the healer had stolen his keys, freed Megan, got her knives. I killed him,
and took the ship. But that was too late to get you back. You were gone, into the Empire, where I
couldnтАЩt go, sold Dark Lord knows where to Dark Lord knows whom. Eight years ago.

The family sat down for dinner, in the atrium near the fountain, with candles floating over the flocks of
eye-sized jewelfish. The big lamp overhead threw shadows from the plants over the tables and cushions.
Gar-soup with dumplings, тАЩmaranth bread, roast beef, vegetables and hot sauce, cloudberry tart ...
 Megan pushed her food around her plate with her eating-pick. IтАЩd have killed for this much food,
when I was eleven and on the street. ShkaiтАЩra was working on seconds, and another stein; she had
been out on the estate with Hotblood yesterday. How she could stand riding a cross between a horse