The Gods Look Down [antikvár]

The Tribe from NowhereOur Tribe had been nomadic dwellers of the desert for as long as anyone, even the elders, could remember. It was on the day of my fourteenth birthday that I asked my father, Nethan, to relate once again the story of all the generations who had wandered the desert plains: the legend of our Tribe said that twenty-eight generations had passed since we first embarked on our quest, though my father told me privately that it was many, many more; the line reached back into prehistory and yet the elders were reluctant to admit their ignorance."If the truth were known, Kish,'' he said to me that day, "we are a people without a true past. We like to believe we are seeking our home but no one in the Tribe knows where our home is or if we ever had oneor even how to recognize it should we stumble across it by chance."He was smiling as he said this, for my father was always amused at the way in which the elders tried to deceive everybody into believing them to be wise and all-knowing. He himself knew that they were as lost.and bewildered as everyone else but tried desperately not to show it.I was perplexed by this, and curious too, and trying to understand better I said, "And what about the stories of the Prophet, the one who will lead us out of the wilderness? Are they true? Does he existor will he exist in the future?"My father leaned forward, holding his cloak close to his body (the desert is bitterly cold after darkness has fallen) and in the firelight his eyes were immensely deep and brooding.