"L. E. Modesitt - Corean Chronicles 4 - Alector's Choice" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

"Oh, yes, I'm sure--"

"Viencet!" barked Olent, turning his broad and muscular frame.

Viencet lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry, Father."

His voice wasn't that sorry, Mykel reflected, but, as the old saying went,
Viencet listened to the windsongs of the ancients. Not that anyone even
knew if the ancients had even sung. After an awkward silence, he asked,
"What are you thinking of doing when you finish your studies next
Quintem?"

"I don't know. I don't want to work for any of the artisans' or engineers'
guilds. If you're a lander, you do the hard work that takes brains, and if
you're indigen, or if the alectors think you're stupid, you end up in the coal
mines or as a laborer and die young."

"You're anything but stupid." Viencet was bright--but lazy and
stubborn, not that Mykel was about to say that, although his grandfather
had--often and loudly--before his sudden death.

"Besides, in most of the respected guilds, you can't ever say a word
about what you do."

Mykel understood that. He'd never liked the guilds' si-lence rules,
either. "There are still the building crafts and trade, even factoring."

Viencet shrugged. "I'll never be a master tiler like Grandfather or
Father. When I see the mosaics Father does... The head of the Structural
Engineers had his last one turned into eternastone."

Mykel pursed his lips. His father had never mentioned that.
Supposedly, the transformation process--kept to the recorders of deeds
and the highest of alectors--cost hundreds of golds and was used for great
works of art, or for the most important buildings, and, of course, the high
roads of the Duarchy. He turned to his father. "You never told me that."
 "It was good. It wasn't that good," replied Olent. "They wanted it
eternal because it's in the receiving hall of the artisans and displays their
seal."

"Does that make it eternal?" asked Sesalia, Mykel's older sister, who
had stepped through the archway carrying a large covered casserole on an
enameled bronze tray.

"The Hall of Justice in Elcien has been standing for more than three
centuries, and it looks like it was finished yesterday. I won't be sticking
around long enough to find out if my poor mosaic will last that long."
Olent laughed. "Like my own da said, you have to take pleasure in what
you do, not in what people might think about it years from now."