"Recluce - 07 - The Chaos Balance" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

often anymore. Then, after almost two years, he'd adjusted to a lot of
heavy labor, from smithing to practicing with metal weapons designed to
inflict maximum damage on other individuals-preferably while escaping the
receipt of similar injuries.
аа "Like the songs . . ."
аа ". . . some of them . .."
аа "... singer makes them sound so good . .."
аа Ayrlyn did make them sound good-if she'd just refrain from ever
performing the song she'd composed about the mighty smith Nylan. That
one, reflected the silver-haired man, was truly awful. He shifted his
weight on the bench and took another sip of the cold water, glad that
he'd had a chance to take a warm shower-warm for Westwind, anyway-before
the evening meal. His self-designed water system had not frozen once
during the winter, and all the recruits who had helped with the repairs
were even gladder than he had been. They hadn't been so glad the previous
fall when he'd insisted on greater cover for the water lines and a few
other laborious details.
аа Ayrlyn slipped back into the great room almost unnoticed until she
stood at the hearth, her flame-red hair glinting with a light of its own.
Istril eased up beside her.
аа The two strummed a few chords, looked at each other, then began to
sing.
а
аа "On the Roof of the World, all covered with white,
аа I took up my blade there, and I brought back the night.
аа With a blade in each hand, there, and the stars at my boots,
аа With the Legend in song, then, I set down my roots.
аа The demons have claimed you, forever in light,
аа But the darkness of order will put them to flight,
аа Will break them in twain, soon, and return you your pride,
аа For the Legend is kept by the blades at your side.
аа The blades at your side, now, must always be bright,
аа And the Legend we hold to is that of the right.
аа For never will guards lose the heights of the sky,
аа And never can Westwind this Legend deny . . .
аа And never can Westwind this Legend deny. "
а
аа "Good!" offered Ryba, amid the scattered applause. "Each time it gets
better."
аа Nylan had to agree with that, although he knew that Ayrlyn had more
than mixed feelings about creating songs to fuel a female militaristic
culture. So did he, but given the reception they had gotten from the
locals, there weren't many options, not on a planet where women had
virtually no rights-at least anywhere the angels had heard of so far.
аа At the same time, Nylan reflected, he had, in some ways, even fewer
options. His guts tightened, reminding him that he was deceiving himself.
In Candar, any man had some options. He swallowed, wondering why his
growing mastery of the local order fields was accompanied by an equal
vulnerability to the pain of death and increasing discomfort with
deception and untruth. And by increasing uneasiness with Ryba, he