"Rachel Pollack - Immortal Snake" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pollack Rachel)

beginning of the feast, when the slaves were about to bring the first dishes
and pour the first glasses of wine. Music announced him, reeds and drums
and flutes. According to tradition, God gave these to the first musicians
when Immortal Snake descended from the Great Above to the Sad Below.
Since then, countless musicians had lived and died, servants of the eternal
song, for a musician is nothing more than a body in this world of suffering
and death, while music itself, like Immortal Snake, is unending, the voice of
the Living World. There were no trumpets, however. These belonged to the
Readers.

The Snake looked at his Companion and was startled to see how
beautiful he was as he stood among the torches. Tribute of Angels was
taller than the Snake remembered. His hands were long, with tapered
fingers. His hair had been tied in a slave knot the only other time the ruler
had seen him; now it was brushed back and decorated with tiny purple
stones. Its color was a coppery gold, but there were black strands as well,
dark streams in a river of light. His face was both strong and delicate, as if
angels flowed into his body. He wore a tunic of yellow and blue silk,
perfectly fitted yet not too ostentatious for a slave.

For a long time the Snake just stared at that graceful body, that
serene face. But then the smell of lamb cooked in figs returned him to his
feast, and he laughed happily. тАЬCome,тАЭ he said, and patted a cushion near
his feet. тАЬCome tell us your story.тАЭ

тАЬGreat Lord,тАЭ his slave and Companion said, тАЬyour command is my
blessing.тАЭ He sat down, his back straight, his hands in his lap. Immortal
Snake raised his wine glass, painted with peacocks and lions. All the
guests raised their glasses at the same time, for it was impolite to drink
before Immortal Snake, who waited for the opening words of the story
before that first cup of wine would delight his mouth.

Tribute of Angels began to speak, his voice soft yet somehow
touching every ear, like perfumed smoke. They listened and closed their
eyes, and slowly they put down their glasses and leaned back in their
chairs. The slaves stopped serving and sat down on the floor; there was no
harm, for no one was eating. The musicians set down their instruments, and
everyone closed their eyes and smiled. Tribute of AngelsтАЩs voice wound
through them like the river that once flowed from Paradise until it became
lost in the dark woods of human suffering.

It was a tale of a boy and girl who swear their love for each other, only
to be separated just as they are about to kiss; separated first by the boyтАЩs
uncle, for there was no dowry, and then by demons jealous of their beauty.
At last, after decades of trials, they find each other in old age and discover
that their long-delayed first kiss restores them to the perfect moment of
their youth.

Immortal Snake, and all his guests, and his slaves and his musicians
and his dancers and his cooks all closed their eyes, and smiled, and