"Joanna Wylde - Dancing With Dionysus" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wylde Joanna)

he wouldn't. In another place he sensed two teenage boys. They had snuck out
of their parents' homes, daring each other to spend a night in the forest
during the festival. Sabiniano wondered idly if they would survive the
nightтАжthey had found a good place to hide. He could smell their strength and
vitality, and smiled. Such daring was appealing to the god. They would
survive, although perhaps not with their virginity intact. The nymphs and
dryads were fond of tasting human meat between their thighs.

Still further he reached out, until he found what he was looking for.
Something unusual, a woman running through the trees. She smelled like fear,
like the village. When would the villagers learn to stay inside at times like
this? he thought in disgust. Her fear would excite the god; there would be
little mercy for her if the satyrs caught her. He breathed in the air more
deeply, then stopped in shock. No wonder she smelled different. This was no
child of Dionysus; this woman worshipped Athena, and she had invaded their
sacred rites.

Sabiniano tensed, opening his eyes and squeezing his fists in anger. She was
an interloper; she would be punished. How could he have missed her presence on
the island? She was a villager. How long had she been in their midst, existing
beneath his notice? Sabiniano reached back into his memory, searching for the
last time he had gone amongst the villagers and inspected them. With a shock,
he realized it had been more than a century. He shook his head in
self-disgust. He had allowed his boredom to interfere with his duty to
Dionysus.

Time to go find the woman.
*****

Kalliara ran through the trees, gasping for breath and clutching her dress up
around her knees. She had no idea where she was, no idea how to find the
village, but to stop running was to die. She burst into a clearing, uncertain
of which direction to go. All around her were predators. In the distance she
heard the sound of drums and pipes playing. She froze, trying to control her
breathing.More satyrs? She wondered.

Instinctively, she ducked into the brush ringing the clearing, pulling as
much of it over her body as she could. The music grew louder, and with horror
she realized they were coming directly toward her. Filled with dread, she
ducked her head into the ground, praying to Athena to protect her from them.
The rich, loamy scent of the earth filled her nose. The drums grew louder, and
the pipes wailed like living things, screaming into the night for release.

Against her will, she felt some of the god's wildness coming into her. The
air itself was filled with it, and the earth felt warm and soft against her
skin. Unable to control her curiosity, she opened her eyes and looked up just
enough to peek through the brush at the musicians. A procession of satyrs and
nymphs was entering the clearing, clutching skins of wine and drinking deeply.
The satyrs were the most frightening. Their eyes were wild, and with a shock
she realized that they had horns sprouting from their foreheads. They danced