Kissanporras by Hermann Sudermann
Kissanporras by Hermann Sudermann
Rauha oli tehty. Maailma, jota korsikkalainen oli puolen ihmisik?? uskaltanut pit?? leikkipallonaan, tunsi j?lleen itsens?.
Runneltuna, revittyn?, vuotaen verta tuhansista haavoistaan, t?yten??n taistelutantereita kuin m?rkivi? paiseita, puoleksi hautuumaana ja puoleksi raunioina-sellaisena se j?lleen l?ysi itsens?.
Mutta ihmiskunta, joka vastik??n oli vapautunut, ei aavistanut mit??n omasta kurjuudestaan.-Jos maata, josta se sai leip?ns?, oli lannotettu verell?kin-hyv? vaan! Sittep?h?n se vastedes kantoi runsaamman hedelm?n. Jos luodit ja pistimet olivatkin harventaneet ihmisten rivej?, mit?s siit??-Olipahan j?lelle j??neill? enemm?n tilaa ojennella k?sivarsiaan.
P??sih?n j?lleen liikkumaan, kun v?entungosta hieman oli hajotettu.
Katkeamaton riemuhuuto kajahti taivasta kohden Gibraltarin kallioilta aina Nordkapiin saakka.-Jokaisessa kellonnuorassa riippui tempova poikanen, jokaiselta alttarilta, jokaisesta majasta kohosi kiitosrukous.- - -Surevat piiloutuivat, heid?n valituksensa tukehtuivat kiitosvirsiin, heid?n kyynelens? imi maa samalla kylm?kiskoisuudella, jolla oli juonut kaatuneiden veripisaratkin.
Kev?isen kauneuden keskell? oli Pariisissa rauhansopimus allekirjotettu.- -Veril?t?k?iss? kukkivat liljat, ja romuhuoneista tuotiin verenkostuttamat liljaliput. Bourbonit ry?miv?t esiin nurkistaan, joihin heid?t Roberspierren partaveitsi oli ajanut, hieroivat unisia silmi??n ja alkoivat iloisina hallita. Unhottaneet eiv?t he olleet mit??n, oppineet ainoastaan kauniin uuden sanan Talleyrandin aapisesta. T?m? sana oli: vallanperimysoikeus.
Muulla maailmalla oli niin paljo tekemist? omissa asioissaan, oli niin paljo voitonseppeleit? sidottavana ja tervehdysmaljoja kallisteltavana, ettei se joutanut t?st? ilveilyst? v?litt?m??n.
Odotuksen kuumeen punehduttamina tuijottivat kaikki silm?t l?ntt? kohden, josta heid?n piti saapua, sankarien, laakereilla seppel?ityjen, heid?n, jotka pyh?n kotiturpeen puolesta, vaimojen ja lasten, oikeuden ja is?nmaan puolesta olivat olleet valmiit uhraamaan henkens? ja verens? korsikkalaisen hurmahengen tulikitaan. He olivat ajaneet h?nt? takaa h?nen perim?iseen luolaansa saakka, kunnes h?n sidottuna oli virunut heid?n jaloissaan.
Saksan tammet olivat juuri pukeutuneet viheri??n, joutuakseen heti ilakoiden ry?stett?viksi, kun voittajat alkoivat palata.
Etup??ss?-iloisina, hilpe?n vapaina parvina-palasi is?nmaan ylpeys ja kukka, rikasten pojat, jotka vapaaehtoisina j??k?rein? olivat omine hevosineen ja omine aseineen l?hteneet pyh??n sotaan.
Heid?n tiens? Saksan halki oli lakkaamatonta juhlahumua. Mihin tulivat, kulkivat he ruusuilla ja kukkasilla; kauneimmat neidot halasivat olla heid?n rakastamiaan, jaloimmat viinit heid?n juotavinaan.
Heid?n j?lest??n tulvi kasakkavirta Saksan lakeuksien ylitse. Vuosikausi sitten, jolloin he, ik??nkuin kostonhenkien parvi, olivat rient?neet suuren armeijan puolikuoliaaksi n??nnytettyjen t?hteiden j?lest?, oli Saksa riemuiten tervehtinyt heit? vapauttajinaan, kaupunkien hallitusmiehet olivat juhlallisina kulkueina olleet heid?n vastassaan, hymnej? oli sepitelty heid?n kunniakseen, ja sinisilm?inen saksalainen tunteellisuus oli vuotanut tulvanaan pesem?tt?m??n tataariturpain hyv?ksi.
Nytkin kiiteltiin heit?, kuten velvollisuus vaati, mutta saksalaisten ik?v?itsev?t katseet t?hysteliv?t heid?n ylitsens? loitommalle, ik??nkuin he olisivat ainoastaan noiden viel? tulematta olevien varjoja.
Ja vihdoin saapuivat hekin-kansan miehet, nuo, joilla ei ollut muuta kuin pelkk? el?m?ns? is?nmaalle alttiiksi annettavana. Heid?n edell??n kulki ik??nkuin s?rkyneiden vaskitorvien r?min?-per?st? laahautui paksu tomupilvi.
Eiv?t he ilmestyneet kotoisille maille ylv?in? ja upeina, kuten kotiin j??neet olivat unelmoineet, s?dekeh?t p?iden ymp?rill?, aaltoilevat viitat liehuen toogan tavoin uljasten vartalojen ymp?rill?,-vaan raukeina ja tylsin? kuin uuvuksiin ajetut ty?konit, likaisina ja repaleisina, sy?p?l?isist? kihisten, parrat p?lyn ja hien vanuttamina, sellaisina he palasivat. Tuossa meni muuan, joka kalpeana ja riutuneena kuin keuhkotautinen ainoastaan vaivoin kykeni jalkojaan siirtelem??n eteenp?in, tuolla toinen, joka el?imellistyneen? ja himokkaana katseli ymp?rilleen, silmien synk?ss? v?ikkeess? loimuavan palon kajastus, luisevat nyrkit yh? viel? murhanhimosta kouristuneina. Vain siell? t??ll? loisti ylev?, puhdas liikutus kyyneltyneist? silmist?, vain siell? t??ll? liittyi kaksi pyssyn per?? pitelev?? k?tt? kiitolliseen rukoukseen...
Mutta tervetulleita olivat he kaikki.-Eik? ket??n ollut verinen kostonty? viel? niin raaistanut ja kivetytt?nyt, etteiv?t kyynelet ja suudelmat olisi h?nt? virvottaneet ja saaneet palaavan valoisamman ajan aavistuksia h??m?tt?m??n h?nen sielunsa silmiin.
Tosin ei kiihtyneit? intohimoja yht?kki? tuuditeta t?ydelliseen lepoon.-Kourat, jotka ovat kalpaa heiluttaneet, tarvitsevat aikaa tarttuakseen aurankurkeen ja luotirihmaan, eik? joka miehen ole helppo unhottaa leiriel?m?n rajua hillitt?myytt? lempe?n kotilieden ??ress?.- -
Kuten jokaisen rauhanteon j?lkeen, oli sent?hden vuosi 14 Saksassa hurja aika. T?m? vuosi, jonka nimi meille my?hemmin syntyneille kaikuu kuin kiitosvirsien, urkujen huminan ja kellojen helin?n sulosointu, n?ki v?kivallan t?it? ja rikoksia enemm?n kuin yksik??n muu vuosi ennen tai j?lkeen. Eritt?in villisti el?m?i ihmisten valloilleen p??ssyt petomaisuus niiss? seuduissa, joissa sodan edell? oli ranskalaisten ylimielisyys mellastellut t?ydess? murhanhimoisuudessaan, ja villeimmin siell?, miss? taistelutannerten verenhaju ja poltettujen kylien tulenloimotus oli kotiv?enkin mielen t?ytt?nyt kauhunkuvilla ja miss? salak?hm?inen kavaluus ja luihu pelkuruus yh? edelleen sovittamatonna huusi kostoa. N?ytti melkein, kuin eiv?t kiihtynytt? is?nmaanrakkautta viel?, tyydytt?isi vastik??n vuotaneet verivirrat, vaan tarvittaisiin enemm?n kuluneen vuosikymmenen h?pe?n pesemiseen. Eih?n voitu aavistaa ett? korsikkalainen korppikotka, joka istui saarih?kiss??n, hioi jo ter?snokkaansa nirhatakseen rikki h?kkins? ristikot ja ett? viel? t?ytyi monen kuohuvaa verta uhkuvan suonen aueta, ennenkuin h?n p??si t?ydelliseen lepoon.-
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In the eighteen years of her life, Brianna had endured relentless abuse from her family, living in constant fear. One fateful day, two dignified figures approached her and revealed a shocking truth: she was their long-lost daughter, heiress to the wealthiest family in the city-the Owens. Desperate for love and acceptance, Brianna hoped to escape her past. Instead, she fell victim to Cassie, a cunning impostor who manipulated their parents against her while feigning distress. Rather than forging a connection with her real family, Brianna found herself betrayed and isolated. When a car accident left Brianna in a vegetative state, she found herself able to listen to everything around her, though unable to respond. Bitterly, she realized her parents didn't care for her; they visited just once. A month later, Cassie visited, disconnecting the ventilator before leaning in to whisper coldly, "Goodbye, my dear sister. You shouldn't have come back. You are meant for that despicable, wretched family." Somehow, fate granted Brianna a second chance. Reborn and fueled by rage, she vowed to make everyone who had wronged her pay dearly. This time, she would seize the life that had been stolen from her.
Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.
Once Alexia was exposed as a fake heiress, her family dumped her and her husband turned his back on her. The world expected her to break-until Waylon, a mysterious tycoon, took her hand. While doubters waited for him to drop her, Alexia showed skill after shocking skill, leaving CEOs gaping. Her ex begged to come back, but she shut him down and met Waylon's gaze instead. "Darling, you can count on me." He brushed her cheek. "Sweetheart, rely on me instead." Recently, international circles reeled from three disasters: her divorce, his marriage, and their unstoppable alliance crushing foes overnight.
For three years, Cathryn and her husband Liam lived in a sexless marriage. She believed Liam buried himself in work for their future. But on the day her mother died, she learned the truth: he had been cheating with her stepsister since their wedding night. She dropped every hope and filed for divorce. Sneers followed-she'd crawl back, they said. Instead, they saw Liam on his knees in the rain. When a reporter asked about a reunion, she shrugged. "He has no self-respect, just clings to people who don't love him." A powerful tycoon wrapped an arm around her. "Anyone coveting my wife answers to me."
Two years of marriage left Brinley questioning everything, her supposed happiness revealed as nothing but sham. Abandoning her past for Colin, she discovered only betrayal and a counterfeit wedding. Accepting his heart would stay frozen, she called her estranged father, agreeing to the match he proposed. Laughter followed her, with whispers of Colin's power to toss her aside. Yet, she reinvented herself-legendary racer, casino mastermind, and acclaimed designer. When Colin tried to reclaim her, another man pulled Brinley close. "She's already carrying my child. You can't move on?"
Isabelle's love for Kolton held flawless for fifteen years-until the day she delivered their children and slipped into a coma. He leaned to her ear and whispered, "Don't wake up. You're worthless to me now." The twins later clutched another woman's hand and chirped, "Mommy," splintering Isabelle's heart. She woke, filed for divorce, and disappeared. Only then did Kolton notice her fingerprints on every habit. They met again: she emerged as the lead medical specialist, radiant and unmoved. But at her engagement gala, she leapt into a tycoon's arms. Jealous, he crushed a glass, blood wetting his palm. He believed as soon as he made a move, Isabelle would return to him. After all, she had loved him deeply.
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