"Stephen Lawhead - Celtic Crusades 01 - The Iron Lance" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lawhead Stephen)

I feel the burn in my throat as I swallow. I lower the bowl and it is removed
from me, only to be offered once more. 'Seeker, take and drink.'
I drink again, and feel an uncanny warmth spreading through my gullet and
stomach. I lower the bowl once more, and once more I am instructed to drink.
The strange warmth is filling me from the inside out, spreading from the pit
of my stomach to my limbs.
After the third drink of the heady potion, I am allowed to replace the bowl,
whereupon the cross is raised and offered to me. 'Seeker,' it is De Cardou,
'venerate the cross.'
At this, the cross is elevated and placed before my face for me to kiss. This
I do, and the cross is replaced. De Cardou takes up the clay pipe and turns
away. When he turns back, the pipe is lit and smoking - although this happens
so quickly I do not see how he could have struck a match, let alone lit the
pipe. 'Seeker, imbibe the Incense of Heaven.'
I take the end of the pipe into my mouth and draw upon it. The smoke is
fragrant and fills my mouth. I blow it out, and draw again on the wonderful
fragrance. After the third such puff, the pipe is, like the bowl, withdrawn
and replaced on the table.
Genotti speaks next. 'Seeker,' he says in his soft Italian tones, raising the
golden plate, 'take and eat.'
I choose one of the shrivelled brown objects from the offered plate. I put it
into my mouth and chew. The flesh is soft and somewhat leathery - like that of
dried fruit - but the taste is acrid, bitter. Tears start to my eyes, and I am
overwhelmed by a desire to spit out this strange substance. The bitterness is
so intense it seems to burn, and then to numb my mouth. My tongue loses all
sensation, becoming an unfeeling lump of useless tissue which, unaccountably,
seems to swell in my mouth. I fear I will choke. I cannot breathe.
Gasping, gagging, somehow I keep chewing the awful stuff, and am at last able
to swallow it down. A new fear overtakes me: I will be made to eat from the
plate again . . . but no, Genotti replaces the plate, and takes up the
chalice. This is offered without a word, and I accept. I drink; it seems to be
a cordial of some kind. I can detect no particular aroma or taste, but
instantly feel my tongue and teeth and lips and the soft tissues of my throat
begin to throb with a tingling sensation. I know not whether this comes from
the dried fruit I have ingested, or from the cordial, but the tingling does
not abate.
I am suddenly taken with a curious desire to laugh. I feel as if a bubble is
rising inside me, growing larger as it ascends, and that I must give birth to
this bubble with a gale of laughter, otherwise I will burst. It is all I can
do to keep from laughing out loud.
'Seeker,' says Genotti once more, 'imbibe the Incense of Heaven.'
The smoke calms me, and though my mouth still tingles I am no longer afflicted
by the mad desire to laugh. Evans speaks next. 'Seeker, answer me: how sees a
child of God?' he asks, his Welsh lilt falling easily on the ear.
'With the eyes of faith,' I reply. The question is a standard query posed to
initiates at every degree.
'Then open your eyes, Seeker, and you shall see,' Evans commands. He takes up
the folded cloth of black silk and, stepping around the table, raises the
cloth to my face. He quickly binds my eyes, and, blindfolded, I am led by my
right hand to another part of the room and made to lie down on my back on the