"David Zindell - Requiem of Homo Sapiens 01 - The Broken God" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zindell David)

Liluye, and others of their family. Haidar was a short man,
though
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remarkably broad and muscular; he had always been remarkably
patient, canny and kind, and Danlo could not understand how
such a great man had so inexorably died. In death, with his
anima passed from his lips, Haidar seemed smaller and
diminished. Danlo knelt beside him, between him and Chandra.
Haidar's hand was stretched out, resting across Chandra's
forehead. Danlo took Haidar's hand in his own. It was a huge
hand, but there was no strength there, no tone or vitality. It
was as cold as meat, almost cold enough to begin hardening up
like ice. Chandra's face was cold, too. The hair around her
ears was crusted with layers of a pale red fluid. Some of this
fluid had dried days before; the freshest, the blood of her
death agony scarcely hours old, was now beginning to freeze.
Danlo combed the thick hair away from her forehead and looked
at her lovely brown eyes, which were open and nearly as hard as
stones. There was nothing in her eyes, neither joy nor light
nor pain. That was the remarkable thing about death, Danlo
thought, how quickly pain fled the body along with its anima.
He turned and touched Haidar's cold forehead, then, and he
closed his own eyes against the tears burning there. He wanted
to ask Haidar the simplest of questions: why, if death was so
peaceful and painless, did all living things prefer life to
death?
'Danlo, it is time to ice the sleds.' This came from Soli,
who was standing above him, speaking gently.
'No,' Danlo said, 'not yet.'
'Please help me with the sleds тАУ we still have much to do.'
'No.' Danlo sat down on the cave floor, and he rested one
hand over Haidar's eyes, the other over Chandra's. 'Haidar,
alasharia la shantih,' he said. And then, 'Chandra, my Mother,
go over now in peace.'
'Quiet now,' Soli said, and he ruffled Danlo's hair. There
will be time for praying later.'
'No.'
'Danlo!'
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'No!'
 Soli shrugged his shoulders and stared into the depths of
the cave where the firelight reflected off the shiny black
walls. His voice sounded low and hollow as he said, The sleds
have to be iced. Join me outside when you are done, and we will
bury the Devaki.'
That evening, they began burying their tribe. They worked as
quickly as they could, stripping the bodies naked and rubbing
them with seal grease from toe to forehead. Danlo knew that it
would be cold on their spirits' journey to the other side of
day, and the grease would help against the cold. Loading the