[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
been
like. She said, ôOne womanÆs life gives us the lives of six thousand
soldiers.ö
ôExactly,ö grated Gilly. ôHer life, not her death. And after all she has
survived, you wonÆt be able to frighten her with mere pain, not unless you
torture her beyond recovery.ö
ôI must prove something, somehow!ö
ôFine. Torture the storyteller, get your proof, win CadmarÆs approval. . .
and
what have you really gained? YouÆve hardened the GÆdeonÆs determination, and
youÆve thrown away an extremely valuable hostage. IÆm starting to think you
are
addle-pated.ö
ôNo, IÆm cornered.ö
ôAt this moment, it is only your thinking that is cornered.ö
ôBloody hell, Gilly! Get me out of the corner, then!ö
ôIs it possible you will notùcannotùrespond defensively to this threat? This
seer, Medric, seems to think itÆs possible.ö Gilly stood up stiffly, and went
to
the lamp table to leaf through the crudely constructed little book that lay
there.
Watching him, Clement felt a darkness descend on her. What if MedricÆs book
had
been a weapon? And that weapon had reached its target: not her, not Cadmar,
but
the Shaftali man who advised them both? What if Medric had won GillyÆs heart?
Gilly found a page he had marked, and began to read out loud. Clement could
hardly pay attention. But the words were rhythmic, the sentences clear.
Dismayed
as she was, Clement began to listen.
ôæWhat has always distinguished the Shaftali people is their hospitality. The
great historians have written of it repeatedly: of the effort the Shaftali
people go through, to treat every stranger as a member of the family. They
say,
perhaps rightly, that this tradition has an element of self interest, for to
feed and shelter the homeless wanderer prevents crime and theft. But in fact
this custom goes much deeper than self-interest.
ô æThe Land of Shaftal is unforgiving, a place of harsh winters and brief
summers, where sometimes only luck might decide the difference between death
and
survival. In such a brutal land, it seems the people should also become
brutal.
That once was the case, long ago, in the time of the first GÆdeon, Mackapee.
But
as Mackapee sat in his isolated cave by a peat fire, watching over his sheep,
he
imagined Shaftal as a community based on mercy. Kindness and generosity, he
wrote, can never be earned and will never be deserved. Hospitality is not an
act
of justice, but of mercyùa mercy beneficial to everyone, by making it
possible
to depend on and trust each other.
æôBut now, Shaftal has again become a merciless place. I do believe the
Sainnites more than deserve the destruction that even now bears down upon
them.
But the Shaftali people will one day regret that they allowed their land to
be
transformed by rage.Æö
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He interrupted himself. ôWhy are you looking so desperate?ö
ôThose farmers,ö she said.
ôWhich farmers?ö
ôAll of them! Seth, the woman with the vegetable seeds, the man who knew the
Sainnites are refugees.ö
ôThat is in the book.ö
ôThat we donÆt have families?ö
ôIn the book.ö
ôHell! I knew there was something ominous about those peopleÆs behavior! They
all had read the book!ö
Clement had left Gilly in the dark, she realized, but in a moment he had
achieved his own understanding and was saying, ôThey offered you hospitality,
I
gather. And you find it reasonable to conclude that the hospitality was
actually
threatening. Does it not occur to you that if Medric is with the Lost GÆdeon,
and published this book with her consent, perhaps with her participationùö
ôYou want to believe this man is sincere. And you want to believe that what
he
wrote, the GÆdeon agrees with.ö
He looked at her a long time before he looked away and said regretfully, ôI
do
want to.ö
ôBut in fact they have much to gain by making us believe they donÆt intend to
destroy us. If we lower our defensesùö
ôNo, a GÆdeon is not a general! She does not think this way.ö
ôWhatever she is, that doesnÆt change what I am. When my people landed here
on
the shores of Shaftal, perhaps we could have thrown ourselves on the mercy of
the Shaftali people. But we made ourselves criminals instead! How will we
escape
that culpability, Gilly?ö
Gilly shut the book and lay it down. For some time, he stood beside the
bright
flame of the lamp, with his ugly head bowed over the table. At last, he said
quietly, ôYou were just a child, Clem. It was your elders, including your
mother, who made the choices that made you a criminal. And now you have a
son.
What will you choose for him?ö
The crackling of the fire seemed awfully loud. The scraping of GillyÆs cane
on
the floor made Clement flinch. She looked down at her sleeping son and felt
the
depth of what she had done to herself when she allowed him to be put in her
arms. How could she bequeath to this baby the violence and ostracism that
shaped
her life? How could she not bequeath it to him?
He lay very still. It seemed odd that he had not awakened yet. She opened the
blanket to feel his chilly, flaccid hand.
ôGilly, stop blocking the lamplight!ö Gilly hastily stepped back from the
table.
She turned the baby so the light shone full on his face. The violet shadows
that
bruised his eyelids seemed stark and terrible. She had seen children who were
sick unto death. She knew what it looked like.
Gilly came over to her. He looked into the babyÆs face. He put an arm across
her
shoulders. Of all the clumsy, graceless actions Clement had seen him do over
the
years, this was by far the most awkward.
Page 230
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
She pressed her face against his arm, which was all knotted with the muscle
it
took to support his ungainly bodyÆs weight on the cane. ôIÆll send for the
midwife right away,ö he said. ôListen,ö he added desperately, perhaps fearful
that Clement would weep. ôIf youÆre a criminal, so am I. And IÆll gladly
share
your fate with you, if I can die your friend.ö
Chapter Thirty-Four
Sometimes a babe just fails, the midwife said. The nurseÆs milk is plentiful,
but milk does no good if the child wonÆt suck. He was born early, and his
mother
diedùsuch infants commonly donÆt survive. The midwife gave Clement a cool
glance. She seemed to think Clement should have expected this outcome.
Clement sent the midwife home.
The baby remained with his nurse in ClementÆs quarters. Though Clement
pursued
business that was too urgent to wait, she forced herself to keep returning to
make certain the frightened girl attempted to make the baby take the breast.
Each time Clement returned, she took up her son, and held him, and watched
the
nearly indistinguishable movement of his breathing. Each time, she learned a
new
lesson in excruciating helplessness. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl freetocraft.keep.pl
been
like. She said, ôOne womanÆs life gives us the lives of six thousand
soldiers.ö
ôExactly,ö grated Gilly. ôHer life, not her death. And after all she has
survived, you wonÆt be able to frighten her with mere pain, not unless you
torture her beyond recovery.ö
ôI must prove something, somehow!ö
ôFine. Torture the storyteller, get your proof, win CadmarÆs approval. . .
and
what have you really gained? YouÆve hardened the GÆdeonÆs determination, and
youÆve thrown away an extremely valuable hostage. IÆm starting to think you
are
addle-pated.ö
ôNo, IÆm cornered.ö
ôAt this moment, it is only your thinking that is cornered.ö
ôBloody hell, Gilly! Get me out of the corner, then!ö
ôIs it possible you will notùcannotùrespond defensively to this threat? This
seer, Medric, seems to think itÆs possible.ö Gilly stood up stiffly, and went
to
the lamp table to leaf through the crudely constructed little book that lay
there.
Watching him, Clement felt a darkness descend on her. What if MedricÆs book
had
been a weapon? And that weapon had reached its target: not her, not Cadmar,
but
the Shaftali man who advised them both? What if Medric had won GillyÆs heart?
Gilly found a page he had marked, and began to read out loud. Clement could
hardly pay attention. But the words were rhythmic, the sentences clear.
Dismayed
as she was, Clement began to listen.
ôæWhat has always distinguished the Shaftali people is their hospitality. The
great historians have written of it repeatedly: of the effort the Shaftali
people go through, to treat every stranger as a member of the family. They
say,
perhaps rightly, that this tradition has an element of self interest, for to
feed and shelter the homeless wanderer prevents crime and theft. But in fact
this custom goes much deeper than self-interest.
ô æThe Land of Shaftal is unforgiving, a place of harsh winters and brief
summers, where sometimes only luck might decide the difference between death
and
survival. In such a brutal land, it seems the people should also become
brutal.
That once was the case, long ago, in the time of the first GÆdeon, Mackapee.
But
as Mackapee sat in his isolated cave by a peat fire, watching over his sheep,
he
imagined Shaftal as a community based on mercy. Kindness and generosity, he
wrote, can never be earned and will never be deserved. Hospitality is not an
act
of justice, but of mercyùa mercy beneficial to everyone, by making it
possible
to depend on and trust each other.
æôBut now, Shaftal has again become a merciless place. I do believe the
Sainnites more than deserve the destruction that even now bears down upon
them.
But the Shaftali people will one day regret that they allowed their land to
be
transformed by rage.Æö
Page 229
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
He interrupted himself. ôWhy are you looking so desperate?ö
ôThose farmers,ö she said.
ôWhich farmers?ö
ôAll of them! Seth, the woman with the vegetable seeds, the man who knew the
Sainnites are refugees.ö
ôThat is in the book.ö
ôThat we donÆt have families?ö
ôIn the book.ö
ôHell! I knew there was something ominous about those peopleÆs behavior! They
all had read the book!ö
Clement had left Gilly in the dark, she realized, but in a moment he had
achieved his own understanding and was saying, ôThey offered you hospitality,
I
gather. And you find it reasonable to conclude that the hospitality was
actually
threatening. Does it not occur to you that if Medric is with the Lost GÆdeon,
and published this book with her consent, perhaps with her participationùö
ôYou want to believe this man is sincere. And you want to believe that what
he
wrote, the GÆdeon agrees with.ö
He looked at her a long time before he looked away and said regretfully, ôI
do
want to.ö
ôBut in fact they have much to gain by making us believe they donÆt intend to
destroy us. If we lower our defensesùö
ôNo, a GÆdeon is not a general! She does not think this way.ö
ôWhatever she is, that doesnÆt change what I am. When my people landed here
on
the shores of Shaftal, perhaps we could have thrown ourselves on the mercy of
the Shaftali people. But we made ourselves criminals instead! How will we
escape
that culpability, Gilly?ö
Gilly shut the book and lay it down. For some time, he stood beside the
bright
flame of the lamp, with his ugly head bowed over the table. At last, he said
quietly, ôYou were just a child, Clem. It was your elders, including your
mother, who made the choices that made you a criminal. And now you have a
son.
What will you choose for him?ö
The crackling of the fire seemed awfully loud. The scraping of GillyÆs cane
on
the floor made Clement flinch. She looked down at her sleeping son and felt
the
depth of what she had done to herself when she allowed him to be put in her
arms. How could she bequeath to this baby the violence and ostracism that
shaped
her life? How could she not bequeath it to him?
He lay very still. It seemed odd that he had not awakened yet. She opened the
blanket to feel his chilly, flaccid hand.
ôGilly, stop blocking the lamplight!ö Gilly hastily stepped back from the
table.
She turned the baby so the light shone full on his face. The violet shadows
that
bruised his eyelids seemed stark and terrible. She had seen children who were
sick unto death. She knew what it looked like.
Gilly came over to her. He looked into the babyÆs face. He put an arm across
her
shoulders. Of all the clumsy, graceless actions Clement had seen him do over
the
years, this was by far the most awkward.
Page 230
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
She pressed her face against his arm, which was all knotted with the muscle
it
took to support his ungainly bodyÆs weight on the cane. ôIÆll send for the
midwife right away,ö he said. ôListen,ö he added desperately, perhaps fearful
that Clement would weep. ôIf youÆre a criminal, so am I. And IÆll gladly
share
your fate with you, if I can die your friend.ö
Chapter Thirty-Four
Sometimes a babe just fails, the midwife said. The nurseÆs milk is plentiful,
but milk does no good if the child wonÆt suck. He was born early, and his
mother
diedùsuch infants commonly donÆt survive. The midwife gave Clement a cool
glance. She seemed to think Clement should have expected this outcome.
Clement sent the midwife home.
The baby remained with his nurse in ClementÆs quarters. Though Clement
pursued
business that was too urgent to wait, she forced herself to keep returning to
make certain the frightened girl attempted to make the baby take the breast.
Each time Clement returned, she took up her son, and held him, and watched
the
nearly indistinguishable movement of his breathing. Each time, she learned a
new
lesson in excruciating helplessness. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]