E. Tubb - Eye of the Zodiac

Здесь есть возможность читать онлайн «E. Tubb - Eye of the Zodiac» весь текст электронной книги совершенно бесплатно (целиком полную версию без сокращений). В некоторых случаях можно слушать аудио, скачать через торрент в формате fb2 и присутствует краткое содержание. Жанр: Фантастика и фэнтези, на английском языке. Описание произведения, (предисловие) а так же отзывы посетителей доступны на портале библиотеки ЛибКат.

Eye of the Zodiac: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

Предлагаем к чтению аннотацию, описание, краткое содержание или предисловие (зависит от того, что написал сам автор книги «Eye of the Zodiac»). Если вы не нашли необходимую информацию о книге — напишите в комментариях, мы постараемся отыскать её.

Eye of the Zodiac — читать онлайн бесплатно полную книгу (весь текст) целиком

Ниже представлен текст книги, разбитый по страницам. Система сохранения места последней прочитанной страницы, позволяет с удобством читать онлайн бесплатно книгу «Eye of the Zodiac», без необходимости каждый раз заново искать на чём Вы остановились. Поставьте закладку, и сможете в любой момент перейти на страницу, на которой закончили чтение.

Тёмная тема
Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

The vote was carried as he knew it would be. The entire session had, in a sense, been a waste of time. Yet, the formalities had to be observed. A commune worked, not on dictatorial lines, but on common agreement. No one man could ever be allowed to become truly the master. The title he had won was by courtesy, not by right.

Later Usdon joined him, entering the Alphanian Chamber to walk towards the altar, to stand looking at what it contained.

He said, for no apparent reason, "Three failed, Master."

"I know."

"One of them was my daughter's son."

The extension of his line, a metaphorical continuation of his body. Vestaler remembered the boy. Sharp and bright and impatient to become a man. His pinnacle had been empty at dawn.

"He wasn't weak," said Usdon fiercely. "He wasn't full of guilt. There was no reason for him to have failed."

Vestaler remained silent. At such times there was nothing to say.

"I wish-" Usdon reached out and touched the artifact before him. "Now I wish that-" He shook his head, a man hurt, helpless to ease his pain. He found refuge in a greater hurt, a more poignant loss. "Do you think it possible that Dumarest can help?"

The odds were against it and yet, hope still survived. Hope, but Vestaler could only be honest.

"I doubt it, Marl." His hand fell to the shoulder of his friend. "I can't see how he could."

Chapter Twelve

Dumarest stretched, remembering. There had been food and drink, hot water in which to bathe, a cup of something pungent, a bed in which to fall. And there had been pain, a searing agony in his scalp, hands which had held him fast, a voice which had murmured soft instructions.

His hand lifted to touch his scalp, the fingers resting on a patch of something smooth.

"Don't touch it," said a voice. "You will aggravate the wound."

Dumarest sat upright, looking at a room he barely remembered. Small, the walls of stone, the window heavily barred. A door of wooden planks held the grill of a Judas window. The bed was solid, the mattress firm, the covers of thick, patch-work material. Reds and greens and diamonds of yellow. Blue and amber squares, and triangles of puce, purple and brown.

"We had to clean and cauterize," said the voice. "The infection was deep."

She sat on a chair set hard against the wall, a position beyond the range of his vision until he turned. A woman no longer young, one with blonde hair held by a fillet of metal. The eyes were amber, the face strongly boned.

"I am Zafra Harvey."

"Leon's mother?"

"Once I had a son." Her voice was distant, as if she spoke of another life at another time. "You claimed to have something to tell me. A message."

"It can wait." Dumarest rose higher in the bed. He was naked. "Did you take care of me?"

"Yes, I am skilled in healing."

"A doctor? A nurse? How is Iduna?"

"Your woman is well. She was suffering only from exhaustion. Now that she has eaten and slept, she will be fine."

"She isn't my woman," said Dumarest. He looked at Zafra's face, seeing the mesh of tiny lines at the corners of the eyes, the aging of the lips, the neck. "How long has it been since that photograph was taken?"

"A long time. In happier days."

"Here?" And then, as she made no answer. "In the town? Do you often leave Nerth?"

"Nerth?"

"The valley. Do you?"

"We call it Ayat. No, we never leave."

The name they would use to others-and the woman had lied.

She said, "Please. The message?"

"Later."

"But Leon-"

"Your son?" Dumarest nodded as he caught her faint inclination. "What happened to him? Why did he run?"

"He is dead. We do not talk of him."

A symbolical death perhaps attended by appropriate ceremonies, his name stricken from any records there might be, his very memory erased. A name that should not be mentioned. A custom with which Dumarest was familiar, one with which he had no patience.

But she was a woman, a mother, and he had no reason to hurt her.

"I knew him," he said. "We worked together, traveled together. He told me of this place. He said that you could help me." A lie, but barely. The photograph had told him that and Leon had carried it. He added, gently, "I am sorry to tell you that he is dead."

She sat as if made of stone.

"What happened?" he urged. "Did he fail his test? Run because of shame?"

"The shame was not his. He wore the yellow, but that was understood. But then, when the time came again, he was not to be found."

"He ran," said Dumarest. "But how? With whom?"

"None went with him."

"A raft? A trader?"

She made no answer and he knew he would gain no further information at this time. Rising he stood, fighting a momentary nausea, then moved to a table which stood against a wall. It held his things, the knife, the idol he had carried tucked beneath his tunic, other things, his clothes. They had been cleaned and dipped into something which had left a purple film. He rubbed it, seeing it leave a mark on his thumb.

"Gray is the color worn by ghosts," she explained. "Green, those who are here by right. The purple will save you from embarrassment."

"That's considerate of you." Dumarest picked up the knife and scraped casually at the idol. "Am I under restraint? If so, it will give me an opportunity to work on this."

"You are free to move at will among the houses and immediate fields. No work will be demanded of you. You may eat with the single men and widowers."

"No guards?"

"You will be watched. And now, if you please, give me the message you claim to have brought."

"You've had it, a part of it at least. Leon is dead. I thought you would like to know. He died bravely, a hero to those who knew him." An unqualified lie this time, but one which could do no harm and could give comfort. Dumarest followed it with another. "He died in my arms. He mentioned you and asked me to bring you his love. The rest of what he told me is for other ears than your own."

"Did he mention-" She broke off as if conscious that she was asking too much. That she could be abrogating the authority of others, demanding more than was her due.

"You were saying?"

"Nothing." Rising, she moved towards the door.

"Take care of your wound. If the pain should increase, let me know at once. If you feel fevered or dizzy, the same. It would be wise for you to conserve your strength for the next few days."

Good advice, and he might follow it-if he was allowed to live that long.

* * * * *

It was late afternoon, and Dumarest guessed that the drug he had been given had made him sleep for thirty hours or more. A long rest which he had needed, and now he was hungry.

He ate in a hut with a score of others, men who watched but said nothing. Not even the youngsters who, at least, must have been curious. The food was good, a steamed mass of beans and meat flavored with herbs. A pudding of nuts and honey, dark with small, crushed bodies. Insects perhaps, or seeds, or even maggots bred to give added protein. Dumarest ate without worrying about the nature of the food.

The meal ended with a mug of tisane, hot water which had been steeped with acrid herbs. A crude, medicinal compound, but one which apparently worked. The men he could see looked healthy as had the boys, the guards. He nodded at a familiar face.

"Hello. Are you one of my watchers?"

Varg Eidhal grunted, hesitated for a moment, then moved to plump down on the bench at Dumarest's side.

"You ate well," he commented. "That is good. A fighting man needs to build his strength."

"The boys, how many failed?"

"Three." Eidhal was grim. "Two who vanished and one who will be a ghost."

"Three-is it always that high?"

"Sometimes more, rarely less. Never is there a time when all return."

Читать дальше
Тёмная тема
Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

Похожие книги на «Eye of the Zodiac»

Представляем Вашему вниманию похожие книги на «Eye of the Zodiac» списком для выбора. Мы отобрали схожую по названию и смыслу литературу в надежде предоставить читателям больше вариантов отыскать новые, интересные, ещё непрочитанные произведения.


Отзывы о книге «Eye of the Zodiac»

Обсуждение, отзывы о книге «Eye of the Zodiac» и просто собственные мнения читателей. Оставьте ваши комментарии, напишите, что Вы думаете о произведении, его смысле или главных героях. Укажите что конкретно понравилось, а что нет, и почему Вы так считаете.

x