Аннотация
Francis Lebaron
Mercadian Masques
Chapter 1
Years later, Atalla could remember every moment of the night he saw the ship that flew.
It was early, at least two hours before morningsinging. The sky still held the pale yellow of dawn, though darker streaks showed where the deeper orange of full daylight was beginning to break through. Atalla had risen before sunrise because Father had promised he might ride his first jhovall, and the ten-year-old boy had been far too excited to sleep. All through the dark hours, he lay on his pallet, staring into the blackness, listening to the soft breathing of Mother and Father asleep in the adjoining bed. In the stillness of the country night, he could hear the mournful cries of mating qomallen to the south, and when the hour was latest he heard the distant booming vibrations of nightsinging from the city.
As the walls of the cottage slowly lightened, Atalla rose. Carefully, to avoid waking his parents, he slipped out t...
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