Читать онлайн «Far-Seer: Book One of the Quintaglio Ascension»
Автор Роберт Сойер
Far-Seer
by Robert J. Sawyer
Dramatis Personae
Capital City
Afsan — apprentice astrologer
Dar-Mondark — doctor
Dy-Dybo — prince
Det-Yenalb — chief priest
Gerth-Palsab — citizen
Irb-Falpom — land surveyor
Jal-Tetex — hunt leader
Len-Lends — Empress
Pal-Cadool — butcher
Tak-Saleed — master astrologer
The Crew of the
Bog-Tardlo — sailor
Dath-Katood — sailor
Det-Bleen — priest
Irb-Hadzig — sailor
Mar-Biltog — sailor
Nor-Gampar — sailor
Paldook — sailor
Var-Keenir — captain
Pack Gelbo
Lub-Kaden — leader of a hunting pack
Val-Toron — rider
Wab-Novato — maker of far-seers
Pack Carno
Cat-Julor — creche mother
Det-Zamar — senior priest
Pahs-Drawo — likely Afsan’s father
Pal-Donat — bloodpriest
Tar-Dordool — leader
*1*
Afsan often escaped to this place. He remembered the first time he had run up this hillside, half a kiloday ago, after his original encounter with the formidable Tak-Saleed.
Formidable? Afsan clicked his teeth in humor, figuring that the choice of adjective was a sign that he must be getting accustomed to all this. Back then, after his introduction to the master astrologer, the word he’d used was "monstrous. "
That first time he’d run up here his only thought had been to get out of the city, get back to his distant home Pack of Carno, back to the simple life of a country boy. He was sure he’d never get used to this dizzying, terrifying world of apprenticeship, of scowling imperial guards, of hundreds of people — ten or more gathered together in the same place at once! Afsan hadn’t experienced crowds like that before, never felt such a wash of pheromones over him. He couldn’t stand the tension, the constant fear that he was encroaching on another’s territory or otherwise breaching protocol. He had found himself tipping from the waist so often it made his head spin.
But on that day, as on this, Afsan had been calmed by the magnificent view from here, tension slipping from his body, claws retracting so far that Afsan thought he’d never see them again, tail swishing back and forth in leisurely, contented movements.
The sun had set a short time ago. It had swollen to a bloated egg, changing from its normal white to a deep violet, before dropping behind the ragged cones of the Ch’mar volcanoes to the west of the city.
A beautiful sunset, Afsan had thought, the wispy clouds a veil across the dimming disk, tinged with purple, with red, with deepest blue. But then Afsan found all sunsets beautiful, and not just because of the play of color across the clouds, although this evening that was indeed spectacular. No, Afsan welcomed sunsets because he preferred the night, craved the stars.This will be a grand night for observing, he thought. The only clouds were around the volcanoes, and those rarely lifted. Overhead, the vast dome of the sky was immaculate.
Tonight was odd-night. Most adults slept on odd-nights. For that very reason, Afsan did not. He preferred the peace and tranquillity of the hillsides on those nights when — the thought came unbidden — it was as if they were his own territory.
