"Sheri S. Tepper - Shadow's End" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tepper Sherri)

Grandpa, who until yesterday would have put arms about me, holding me.

Am I different today from yesterday? I am still Saluez, granddaughter of his heart, so songfather has said
to me, manytime, many-time. Am I changed? Am I not still myself, the self I grew to be? Until yesterday,
I knew who Saluez was. Until yesterday, when Masanees told me it was certain:

"You are with child," she said, gripping my shoulders to help me control my shaking.

I cried then. I was too proud to scream, but I cried, and Masanees wiped my face and cuddled me
close as only women will cuddle me close now, only women who know. I had not wanted to be this way.
I was not ready for this. Some say there are herbs one can take, but such things are only whispered. The
songfathers do not allow it; they say we were made for fecundity, such is the purpose of the pattern, so
the Gracious One has spoken. They tell us how all nature is made the same, every tree with its fruit, every
blossom with its bee. So every girl must take a lover, once she is able.

I said no, no, no. My friend Shalumn said no, no, no. We were enough for one another, she and I. But
this young man said yes, yes, yes. And that young man said yes, yes, yes. And Chahdzi father looked at
me beneath his eyebrows, so. So, I picked the one who was least annoying, and it was done. I had a
lover. If all went well, soon I would have a husband. When the seed sprouts, Dinadhis say, then the
gardeners join their hands and dance. Their hands, and other parts as well. I take no great pleasure in
that thought. First loving is, as the old women say, fairly forgettable. Nor is there any pleasure in the
thought of what comes between.

So, now I am with child and am no longer favorite anything to Hallach, songfather. Now I become part
of the promise, part of the covenant, part of the choice. For this time between the planting and the
dancing, only that. Nothing more.

"A day has been appointed for you," says songfather, not looking at me.

I feel myself shake all over, like a tree in wind, like a newborn little woolbeast experiencing the coldness
of air for the first time. Is it fear I feel, or is it anger at their pushing me so? "Soon you will be old enough.
Soon you will have a lover. Soon you will have a husband. It is the way of Dinadh." I learned these
words when I was first able to talk. Now it is all I can do to stand until the shudder passes, leaving me
chilled beneath the sun.

"You are prepared?" It is the ritual question.

"Songfather," I say, "I am prepared." The words are the correct words. I have been trained since
babyhood to say those words, but no amount of training has made them sound sincere, not even to me!
What is it I am supposed to be prepared for? No one will say. They whisper. They hint. But no one ever
says!

"You were made for this," he says solemnly. "As the Gracious One has told us, you were made for the
giving of this gift. Who will go with you?"

I say, "Masanees, sister-mother." Masanees has done this thing before, several times, successfully! She
is of my mother's generation, though my mother is gone.

Hah-Hallach knows all this. "She will watch over you," he says, approvingly.