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sunlight.
"I don't believe that I do hate Riveda," Domaris mused, and shifted her swollen body awkwardly, as if in
pain. "But I distrust him. There is something about him that makes me shiver." She looked at Deoris,
and what she saw in her sister's pale face made her add, with a deprecating gesture, "Pay not too much
attention to me. You know Riveda better than I. And oh, it may all be my imagination! Pregnant
women have foolish fancies."
At the far end of the enclosed court, Micail's tousled head popped up from behind a bush and as quickly
ducked down again; he and Lissa were playing some sort of hiding game.
The little girl scampered across the grass. "I see you, M'cail!" she cried shrilly, crouching down beside
Domaris's skirt, "Pe-eep!"
Domaris laughed and petted the little girl's shoulder, looking with satisfaction at Deoris. The last six
months had wrought many changes in the younger girl; Deoris was not now the frail, huge-eyed wraith
bound in bandages and weak with pain, whom Domaris had brought from the Grey Temple. Her face
had begun to regain its color, though she was still paler than Domaris liked, if no longer so terribly
thin . . . Domaris frowned as another, persistent suspicion came back to her.That change I can
recognize! Domaris never forced a confidence, but she could not keep herself from wondering, angrily,
justwhat had been done to Deoris. That story of falling from the sea-wall into a watch-fire . . . did not
ring true, somehow.
"You don't have foolish fancies, Domaris," the girl insisted. "Why do you distrust Riveda?"
"Because because he doesn't feeltrue to me; he hides his mind from me, and I think he has lied to me
more than once." Domaris's voice hardened to ice. "But mostly because of what he is doing to you! The
man is using you, Deoris . . . Is he your lover?" she asked suddenly, her eyes searching the young face.
"No!" The denial was angry, almost instinctive.
Lissa, forgotten at Domaris's knee, stared from one sister to the other for a moment, confused and a little
worried; then she smiled slightly, and ran to chase Micail. Grown-ups had these exchanges. It didn't
usually mean anything, as far as Lissa could tell, and so she rarely paid attention to such talk though she
had learned not to interrupt.
Domaris moved a little closer to Deoris and asked, more gently, "Then who?"
"I I don't know what you mean," Deoris said; but the look in her eyes was that of a trapped and
frightened creature.
"Deoris," her sister said kindly, "be honest with me, kitten; do you think you can hide it forever? I have
served Caratra longer than you if not as well."
"I amnot pregnant! It isn't possible Iwon't !" Then, controlling her panic, Deoris took refuge in
arrogance. "I have no lover!"
The grave grey eyes studied her again. "You may be sorceress," Domaris said deliberately, "but all your
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magic could not compassthat miracle." She put her arm around Deoris, but the girl flung it petulantly
away.
"Don't! I'm not!"
The response was so immediate, so angry, that Domaris only stared, open-mouthed. How could Deoris
lie with such conviction, unless unless . . . Has that damned Grey-robe, then, taught her his own
deceptive skills?The thought troubled her. "Deoris," she said, half-questioning, "itis Riveda?"
Deoris edged away from her, sullenly, scared. "And if it were so which it is not! it is my right! You
claimed yours!"
Domaris sighed; Deoris was going to be tiresome. "Yes," the older woman said tiredly, "I have no right
to blame. Yet " She looked away across the garden to the tussling children, her brows contracting in a
half-troubled smile. "Ican wish it were any other man."
"You do hate him!" Deoris cried, "I think you're I hateyou! " She rose precipitately to her feet, and ran
from the garden, without a backward glance. Domaris half rose to follow her, then sank back heavily,
sighing.
What's the use?She felt weary and worn, not at all inclined to soothe her sister's tantrums. Domaris felt
unable to deal with her own life at present how could she handle her sister's?
When she had carried Micon's child, Domaris had felt an odd reverence for her body; not even the
knowledge that Micon's fate followed them like a shadow had dimmed her joy. Bearing Arvath's was
different; this was duty, the honoring of a pledge. She was resigned, rather than rejoicing. Vised in pain,
she walked with recurrent fear, and Mother Ysouda's words whispering in her mind. Domaris felt a
guilty, apologetic love for Arvath's unborn son as if she had wronged him by conceiving him.
And now why is Deoris like that? Perhaps it isn't Riveda's child, and she's afraid of what he'll
do . . . ?Domaris shook her head, unable to fathom the mystery.
From certain small but unmistakable signs, she was certain of her sister's condition; the girl's denial
saddened and hurt Domaris. The lie itself was not important to her, but the reason for it was of great
moment.
What have I done, that my own sister denies me her confidence?
She got up, with a little sigh, and went heavily toward the archway leading into the building, blaming
herself bitterly for her neglect. She had been lost in grief for Micon and then had come her marriage,
and the long illness that followed the loss of her other child and her Temple duties were onerous. Yet,
somehow, Deoris's needs should have been met.
Rajasta warned me, years ago,Domaris thought sadly. Was it this he foresaw? Would that I had
listened to him! If Deoris has ceased to trust me Pausing, Domaris tried to reassure herself.Deoris is a
strange girl; she has always been rebellious. And she's been so ill, perhaps she wasn't really lying;
maybe she really doesn't know, hasn't bothered to think about the physical aspects of the thing.
That would be just like Deoris!
For a moment, Domaris saw the garden rainbowed through sudden tears.
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II [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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sunlight.
"I don't believe that I do hate Riveda," Domaris mused, and shifted her swollen body awkwardly, as if in
pain. "But I distrust him. There is something about him that makes me shiver." She looked at Deoris,
and what she saw in her sister's pale face made her add, with a deprecating gesture, "Pay not too much
attention to me. You know Riveda better than I. And oh, it may all be my imagination! Pregnant
women have foolish fancies."
At the far end of the enclosed court, Micail's tousled head popped up from behind a bush and as quickly
ducked down again; he and Lissa were playing some sort of hiding game.
The little girl scampered across the grass. "I see you, M'cail!" she cried shrilly, crouching down beside
Domaris's skirt, "Pe-eep!"
Domaris laughed and petted the little girl's shoulder, looking with satisfaction at Deoris. The last six
months had wrought many changes in the younger girl; Deoris was not now the frail, huge-eyed wraith
bound in bandages and weak with pain, whom Domaris had brought from the Grey Temple. Her face
had begun to regain its color, though she was still paler than Domaris liked, if no longer so terribly
thin . . . Domaris frowned as another, persistent suspicion came back to her.That change I can
recognize! Domaris never forced a confidence, but she could not keep herself from wondering, angrily,
justwhat had been done to Deoris. That story of falling from the sea-wall into a watch-fire . . . did not
ring true, somehow.
"You don't have foolish fancies, Domaris," the girl insisted. "Why do you distrust Riveda?"
"Because because he doesn't feeltrue to me; he hides his mind from me, and I think he has lied to me
more than once." Domaris's voice hardened to ice. "But mostly because of what he is doing to you! The
man is using you, Deoris . . . Is he your lover?" she asked suddenly, her eyes searching the young face.
"No!" The denial was angry, almost instinctive.
Lissa, forgotten at Domaris's knee, stared from one sister to the other for a moment, confused and a little
worried; then she smiled slightly, and ran to chase Micail. Grown-ups had these exchanges. It didn't
usually mean anything, as far as Lissa could tell, and so she rarely paid attention to such talk though she
had learned not to interrupt.
Domaris moved a little closer to Deoris and asked, more gently, "Then who?"
"I I don't know what you mean," Deoris said; but the look in her eyes was that of a trapped and
frightened creature.
"Deoris," her sister said kindly, "be honest with me, kitten; do you think you can hide it forever? I have
served Caratra longer than you if not as well."
"I amnot pregnant! It isn't possible Iwon't !" Then, controlling her panic, Deoris took refuge in
arrogance. "I have no lover!"
The grave grey eyes studied her again. "You may be sorceress," Domaris said deliberately, "but all your
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
magic could not compassthat miracle." She put her arm around Deoris, but the girl flung it petulantly
away.
"Don't! I'm not!"
The response was so immediate, so angry, that Domaris only stared, open-mouthed. How could Deoris
lie with such conviction, unless unless . . . Has that damned Grey-robe, then, taught her his own
deceptive skills?The thought troubled her. "Deoris," she said, half-questioning, "itis Riveda?"
Deoris edged away from her, sullenly, scared. "And if it were so which it is not! it is my right! You
claimed yours!"
Domaris sighed; Deoris was going to be tiresome. "Yes," the older woman said tiredly, "I have no right
to blame. Yet " She looked away across the garden to the tussling children, her brows contracting in a
half-troubled smile. "Ican wish it were any other man."
"You do hate him!" Deoris cried, "I think you're I hateyou! " She rose precipitately to her feet, and ran
from the garden, without a backward glance. Domaris half rose to follow her, then sank back heavily,
sighing.
What's the use?She felt weary and worn, not at all inclined to soothe her sister's tantrums. Domaris felt
unable to deal with her own life at present how could she handle her sister's?
When she had carried Micon's child, Domaris had felt an odd reverence for her body; not even the
knowledge that Micon's fate followed them like a shadow had dimmed her joy. Bearing Arvath's was
different; this was duty, the honoring of a pledge. She was resigned, rather than rejoicing. Vised in pain,
she walked with recurrent fear, and Mother Ysouda's words whispering in her mind. Domaris felt a
guilty, apologetic love for Arvath's unborn son as if she had wronged him by conceiving him.
And now why is Deoris like that? Perhaps it isn't Riveda's child, and she's afraid of what he'll
do . . . ?Domaris shook her head, unable to fathom the mystery.
From certain small but unmistakable signs, she was certain of her sister's condition; the girl's denial
saddened and hurt Domaris. The lie itself was not important to her, but the reason for it was of great
moment.
What have I done, that my own sister denies me her confidence?
She got up, with a little sigh, and went heavily toward the archway leading into the building, blaming
herself bitterly for her neglect. She had been lost in grief for Micon and then had come her marriage,
and the long illness that followed the loss of her other child and her Temple duties were onerous. Yet,
somehow, Deoris's needs should have been met.
Rajasta warned me, years ago,Domaris thought sadly. Was it this he foresaw? Would that I had
listened to him! If Deoris has ceased to trust me Pausing, Domaris tried to reassure herself.Deoris is a
strange girl; she has always been rebellious. And she's been so ill, perhaps she wasn't really lying;
maybe she really doesn't know, hasn't bothered to think about the physical aspects of the thing.
That would be just like Deoris!
For a moment, Domaris saw the garden rainbowed through sudden tears.
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II [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]