"Morris, Janet - Silistra 03 - Wind from the Abyss UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (Morris Janet E)

Khys went and secured the locks, and when he turned, he was grinning widely.
He came and stood over me, fists upon his hips.
"Still dreaming of Sereth, are you? Perhaps I will give you to him for a night. Would you like that?"
I shuddered and crept through the cushions, back against the window. I shook my head repeatedly. I wondered what was going to happen to me. Had I been assessed? Would the recommendation upon my papers be the same as the arrar Sereth's? I had no hope but Khys's protection. I thought of Vedrast, trembling.
"Speak to me," he ordered, squatting down, his bulk closing the alcove into a cube.
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"No, dharen," I whispered, cowering amid the rust and evening cushions.
"What?"
"No. I would not like it. Yes, I will serve you however you wish." I would not cry or scream. I dug my nails into my palms and took deep breaths. I thought what it had been like without the band, then I tried not to think.
"Your life," he said, stretching out among the cushions, "rests in my hands alone. Such decisions have always rested with me. They might recommend. But they, in their turn, are also assessed. The council had no power but what I have given it. Over you, I have given it none."
And I looked at him, turned sideways, and knew that he was a man who gave away nothing. He had ruled Silistra so long, so well, so silked was the hand of steel, that few upon the outside conceived him to be a living being. They quoted him, venerated chaldra, threw yris-tera to guide them in their lives. They thought him more a force than a man, some long-dead priest of justice and truth.
And that priest of justice and truth cornered me against the window, that I might testify to his manhood and be blessed by his use.
When it was over, he slept, and I lay beside him, rubbing my hipbones. I thought long of fear and love, and wondered how I would have felt about him had things been otherwise. But they were as they were, and I found no solace in such speculation. I turned and laid my head against his shoulder. He growled in his sleep, and my heart scrabbled for escape. Partly wakened, he put an arm across my chest, pulled me to him. Half-thrilled, half-terrified, I lay hardly breathing. Alone so long, I had dreamed of just this. Yet, he had structured my experiences to suit him. Doubtless, how I felt now was more his choice than mine. I fell asleep finally, upon the uneasy conclusion that love, no matter what its
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roots, feels real when it is upon one. There seemed to be, then, no way to test it, for I loved my life the most. If Khys had taught me not all of love, he had taught me what he desired, and that would keep me alive. If he kept me alive, he could have my body, my mind, my love. I would deal, somehow, with my fear. Perhaps, I thought, drowsing, I might even wake up free of it. And I dreamed I saw with the Keepress, she all I had ever envisioned herЧ magnificent, haughty, her skin and eyes aglow with the father's fire. Upon a barren crag, she sat with me. Khys, she said, deserved better. I, she judges, shortchanged us both, with my conception. I argued that it was not my conception, but that put upon me by others, those around me. And she stood and stalked about that peak, vital, uninhibited. She demanded to know the identity of her who inhabited my body. I was a woman, born to flesh, she stormed. Female by birthright, she called me, and deaf to the law within. I am no animal, I raged. Then you are not of the living, she said, and knelt down, her wide-set molten eyes glowing, her tiny winged brows knit with concern. The wind whipped around her, keening. It reminded me of my place, and before whom I sat.
So did the Keepress come to me, and adjure me not gainsay myself. Live your heritage, she demanded fiercely. Do not make judgment, only listen, and live. Make no less of yourself than you are, and she turned me within, to see the fullness there.
And when Khys woke me, entering me from behind, I found a different way to move against him. As the Keepress, I leaned into his cupping hands, clutched him, let my body couch him, unconstrained. I was not disappointing, to him or my brazen self.
"Perhaps one should not query such a gift," he said, wiping sweat from his upper lip, "but one
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may surely remark upon its quality." His eyes narrowed to slits.
"Did I not please you?"
He laughed. "Is that what you call it?"
"I love you," I reminded him, running my hands over my taut belly.
"You assured me of that before we slept." His finger touched my lips. I nipped it.
"I had a dream," I said, remembering.
He cocked his head. "May you have them more often," he said, after a pause. But he stared at me, disquieted. He reached out a hand, caressing, and my body leaped, joyous to his touch. He took his hand away and rose up on his knees.
"Sit up," he said.
I curled my legs around me, leaned upon one straight arm. It was not my way of sitting, nor a way Khys had taught me. My breasts and belly, and the curves of my hips and waist, were well displayed. I threw my hair over my right breast, and it fell between my slightly parted thighs.
He surveyed me minutely. I found it exciting, that he looked at me so.
"I have meetings," he said finally. "They will take the rest of the day and most of the evening." His voice was level, only.
"Take me with you, please," I begged, wide-eyed, leaning forward. "I would not be here alone. I will do nothing to displease you."
He rose up without answer. I waited, following him with my eyes, my breath held. Near the hidden bookshelf, he pushed back a thala panel. From within it, he took a night-blue robe, and dark breech, and sandals. I wondered how many of the common-held forereaders he had couched. Doubtless, many. I found a joy in his movements, that of a woman's eyes upon a fine male.
Belting on his chald, he came around to face me, his arched brows slightly raised.
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"I think, upon another thought, that I will allow you to accompany me. What rises within you has taken my interest. Clothe yourself."
I bowed my head, smiling, and went searching my one garment. When I had tied it at the neck and hips, he beckoned me close.
Amusement flickered in his eyes. He looked me up and down and bade me turn.
Then he untied the s'kim's strap, knotted behind my neck, and relied it loosely. He pulled the second tie tighter across my hips.
"It will have to do," he said. "I must get you some other garment if you are going to sit to council." His manner drove me deep into my meager store of Stothric teachings, where I searched the ice of distance to soothe my indignation. He did not fail to mark it.
"Be silent," he admonished. "Be obedient. If you do not perform creditably, I assure you, you will regret it." His hand went around my throat. By it, he pulled me roughly against him, into those arms that could have crushed me lifeless.
"Yes, dharen," I breathed when he released me. I shivered.
Beside him, I walked with attention, proudly. Unaccountably, I laughed at my fears. Doubtless, he might kill me. Rightfully, I feared him. All women fear such men, who know them. Such men, who do not fear themselves, must always be feared. But that, also, is the attraction of them, the fearsome ones, who take from us what is only such men's to take, and not a woman's to give. A woman may give her body, but a man must demand the rest, that which is his alone. A woman, Khys once said, is like owkahenЧthe time coming to beЧ which is either what a strong man may make of it or what a weak one wiil be made by it.
"Heed yourself, Estri," he advised, cryptic, as he stopped before a door and reached across me to
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push it open. His robed arm brushed my breasts, and they responded. I had been considering myselfЧ walking the most priveleged keep at the Lake of Horns, beside the dharen of all Silistra. At the will of such a man, my best would never be too much. Even Estri the Keepress, my namesake, who had found herself often overqualified in her dealings with men, had, before this man, fallen. She would, I was sure, have approved of me, in my new perspective. My freshly wakened body preened itself, much aroused.