145. Lennox Marion Sposob na kawalera
1006. Lennox Marion Odzyskana narzeczona
Lennox_Marion_ _Na_chwilĂâ˘_czy_na_zawsze
Dick Philip Kosmiczne marionetki
Maxwell L.Gina Ucieczka do MiśÂośÂci Tom 1
Fleszarowa Muskat StanisśÂawa Czterech mćÂśźczyzn na brzegu lasu
Roberts Alison Rajska wyspa
Derlikiewicz Ewa Zaburzenia zachowania a śÂrodowisko rodzinne dziecka(1)
M L N Hanover Black Sun's Daughter 01 Unclean Spirits
CTV001_MODELS
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She had tried, really tried, to make Domaris understand; Domaris had only looked at her,
uncomprehending, and said, "But every woman must do that service."
"But it's so awful!" Deoris had wailed.
Domaris, stern-eyed, advised her not to be a silly little girl; that it was the way of nature, and that no one
could change it. Deoris had stammered on, inclined to beg, cry, plead, convinced that Domariscould
change it, if she only would.
Domaris had been greatly displeased: "You are being very childish! I've spoilt you, Deoris, and tried to
protect you. I know now that I did wrong. You are not a child any longer. You must learn to take a
woman's responsibilities."
II
Deoris was now fifteen. The Priestesses took it for granted that she had, like most girls of that age,
completed the simpler preliminary tasks allotted to those who were serving for the first or second time.
Too shy and too miserable to correct their mistake, Deoris found herself assigned an advanced task: as
befitted a girl of her age who was the daughter of a Priest, she was sent to assist one of the
midwife-Priestesses, a woman who was also a Healer of Riveda's Order; her name was Karahama.
Karahama was not of the Priest's Caste. She was the daughter of a Temple servant who, before her
daughter was born, had claimed to be with child by Talkannon himself. Talkannon, then recently married
to the highly-born Priestess who later became the mother of Deoris and Domaris, had most
uncharacteristically refused to acknowledge the child. He admitted intimacy with the woman, but claimed
that it was by no means sure that he was the father of her unborn child, and produced other men who
had, in his opinion and theirs, a better claim.
Under such flagrant proofs of misconduct, the Elders had admitted that no one could be forced to
acknowledge the child. The woman, stripped of her privileges as a Temple servant, was given only a
minimum of shelter until the birth of her daughter, and then dismissed from the Temple altogether. Man
and woman were free to live as they would before marriage, but promiscuity could not be tolerated.
The child Karahama, casteless and nameless, had been taken into the Grey-robe sect as one of theirsaji
and had grown up the very image of Talkannon. Eventually, of course, the Arch-Priest became aware
of the jeers of the Temple slaves, the concealed gossip of his juniors. It was indeed a choice bit of
scandal that the Temple's Arch-Priest should have a small replica of himself among the worst outcasts in
the Temple. In self-defense, he at last succumbed to popular opinion. After doing lengthy penance for his
error, he legally adopted Karahama.
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As the Grey-robes had no caste laws, Karahama had been accepted by Riveda as a Healer-Priestess.
Restored by Talkannon to her rightful caste and name, she had chosen to enter the Temple of Caratra,
and was now an Initiate, entitled to wear the blue robe a dignity as high as any in the Temple. No one
could scorn or spit on the "nameless one" any more, but Karahama's uncertain beginnings had made her
temperament a strange and uncertain thing.
At the realization that this girl assigned to her guidance was her own half-sister, Karahama felt oddly
mixed emotions, which were soon resolved in Deoris's favor. Karahama's own children, born before her
reclamation, were outcasts, nameless as she herself had been, and for them nothing could be done.
Perhaps this was why Karahama tried to be particularly kind and friendly to this young and almost
unknown kinswoman. But she knew that sooner or later she would have trouble with this child, whose
sullen rebellion smouldered unspoken behind scared violet eyes, and whose work was carefully
deliberate, as if Deoris made every movement against her will. Karahama thought this a great pity, for
Deoris obviously had all the qualities of a born Healer: steady hands and a keen observation, a deft sure
gentleness, a certain instinct for pain. Only the will was lacking and Karahama quickly resolved that
somehow she must make it her duty to find the hidden thing in Deoris which would win her over to the
service of the Mother.
She thought she had found it when Arkati came to the House of Birth.
Arkati was the girl-wife of one of the Priests, a pretty thing scarcely out of childhood; younger, in fact,
than Deoris herself. A fair-skinned, fair-haired, diminutive girl with sweet pleading eyes, Arkati had been
brought to the Temple of Caratra a few weeks before the proper time, because she was not well; her
heart had been damaged by a childhood illness, and they wished to strengthen her before her child was
born. All of them, even the stern Karahama, treated the girl with tenderness, but Arkati was weak and
homesick and would cry at nothing.
She and Deoris, it soon turned out, had known one another since childhood. Arkati clung to Deoris like
a lost kitten.
Karahama used influence, and Deoris was given what freedom she wished to spend with Arkati. She
noticed with pleasure that Deoris had a good instinct for caring for the sick girl; she followed Karahama's
instructions with good sense and good judgment, and it seemed as if Deoris's hard rebellion gave the
girl-mother strength. But there was restraint in their friendship, born of Deoris's fear.
More than fear, it was a positive horror. Wasn't Arkati afraid at all? She never tired of dreaming and
making plans and talking about her baby; she accepted all the inconveniences, sickness and weariness,
unthinkingly, even with laughter. How could she? Deoris did not know, and was afraid to ask.
Once, Arkati took Deoris's hand in hers, and put itagainst her swollen body, hard; and Deoris felt under
her hand an odd movement, a sensation which filled her with an emotion she could not analyze. Not
knowing whether what she felt was pleasure or acute annoyance, she jerked her hand roughly away.
"What's wrong?" Arkati laughed. "Don't you like my baby?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
