"L. E. Modesitt - Recluce 10 - The Magic of Recluce" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

A tray sat on the table. On it were two icy glasses, some slabs of fresh-baked bread, cheese,
and several sliced apples. The bread was still steaming, and the aroma filled the small room.
Uncle Sardit eased himself into the chair nearest the kitchen. I took the other one. Something
about the tray being ready bothered me. It bothered me a whole lot.
The soft sound of steps caused me to look up from the tabletop. Uncle Sardit put down his glass-
iced fruit punch- and nodded at Aunt Elisabet. She, like father, was fair-skinned, sandy-haired,
slender, and tall. Uncle Sardit was smaller and wiry, with salt-and-pepper hair and a short-
cropped beard. Both of them looked guilty.
"You're right, Lerris. We do feel guilty, perhaps because you're Gunnar's son." That was Aunt
Elisabet.
"But that doesn't change anything," added Uncle Sardit. "You still have to face the same
decisions whether you're our nephew or not."
I took a gulp of the fruit punch to avoid answering, though I knew Aunt Elisabet would know
that. She always knew. So did my father.
"Have something to eat. I'll do some of the talking. Elisabet will fill in anything I miss." He
took a wedge of cheese and a slab of bread and chewed several bits slowly, swallowed, and finished
up with another gulp of fruit punch.
"Magister Kerwin should have taught you, as he taught me, that a master or journeyman who
instructs an apprentice is also responsible for determining the apprentice's fitness for
practicing the craft."
I took some bread and cheese. Obviously, the master was responsible for the apprentice.
"What he did not tell you, or me, is that the craft-master must also determine whether the
apprentice will ever be ready for practicing a craft, or whether the apprentice should be
considered for dangergeld or exile."
"Exile . . ."
"You see, Lerris, there is no place in Recluce for unfocused dissatisfaction," added Aunt
Elisabet. "Boredom, inability to concentrate, unwillingness to apply yourself to the fullest of
your ability-these can all allow chaos a foothold in Recluce."
"So the real question facing you, Lerris, is whether you want to take the dangergeld training,
or whether you would rather just leave Recluce. Forever."
"Just because I'm bored? Just because I put a little too much pressure on a wood clamp? For
that I have to choose between exile and dangergeld?"
"No. Because your boredom reflects a deeper lack of commitment. Sloppy work on the part of
someone who is doing his best is not a danger. Nor is sloppy work when the honest intent is
perfection, provided, of course, that no one has to rely on the sloppy work for anything that
could threaten their life if it failed." Aunt Elisabet looked somehow taller, and there was a fire
behind her eyes.
I looked away.
"Are you saying that you have honestly been happy trying to achieve perfection in woodwork?"
asked Uncle Sardit.
"No." I couldn't very well lie. Aunt Elisabet would catch it.
"Do you think that it would become easier if you continued to work with me?"
"No."
I took another slice of bread and a second wedge of cheese. I didn't remember eating the first,
but I must have. I sipped the fruit punch only enough to moisten my mouth, since I was cold enough
inside already.
"Now what?" I asked before taking another bite.
"If you decide to take the dangergeld training, the masters will work with you for as long as
necessary, in their judgment, to prepare you for your dangergeld. After training, you cannot