"Роджер Желязны. Lord of Light (Лорд Света, engl) " - читать интересную книгу автора

himself before its front entrance, placing a begging bowl on the ground at
his feet. He wore a single, threadbare garment of coarse, brown cloth, which
reached to his ankles. A black patch covered his left eye. What remained of
his hair was dark and very long. His sharp nose, small chin, and high, flat
ears gave to his face a foxlike appearance. His skin was tight-drawn and
well-weathered. His single, green eye seemed never to blink.
He sat there for perhaps twenty minutes before one of Sam's monks
noticed him and mentioned the fact to one of Ratri's dark-robed Order. This
monk located a priest and passed the information to him. The priest, anxious
to impress the goddess with the virtues of her followers, sent for the
beggar to be brought in and fed, offered new garments and given a cell in
which to sleep for as long as he chose to remain.
The beggar accepted the food with the courtesies of a Brahmin, but
declined to eat anything other than bread and fruit. He accepted, too, the
dark garment of Ratri's Order, casting aside his begrimed smock. Then he
looked upon the cell and the fresh sleeping mat that had been laid for him.
"I do thank you, worthy priest," he said, in a voice rich and resonant,
and altogether larger than his person. "I do thank you, and pray your
goddess smile upon you for your kindness and generosity in her name."
The priest smiled at this himself, and still hoped that Ratri might
pass along the hall at that moment, to witness his kindness and generosity
in her name. She did not, however. Few of her Order had actually seen her,
even on the night when she put on her power and walked among them: for only
those of the saffron robe had attended Sam's awakening and were certain as
to his identity. She generally moved about the monastery while her followers
were at prayer or after they had retired for the evening. She slept mainly
during the day; when she did cross their sight she was well-muffled and
cloaked; her wishes and orders she communicated directly to Gandhiji, the
head of the Order, who was ninety-three years old this cycle, and more than
half blind.
Consequently, both her monks and those of the saffron robe wondered as
to her appearance and sought to gain possible favor in her eyes. It was said
that her blessing would ensure one's being incarnated as a Brahmin. Only
Gandhiji did not care, for he had accepted the way of the real death.
Since she did not pass along the hall as they stood there, the priest
prolonged the conversation, "I am Balarma," he stated. "May I inquire as to
your name, good sir, and perhaps your destination?"
"I am Aram," said the beggar, "who has taken upon himself a ten-year
vow of poverty, and of silence for seven. Fortunately, the seven have
elapsed, that I may now speak to thank my benefactors and answer their
questions. I am heading up into the mountains to find me a cave where I may
meditate and pray. I may, perhaps, accept your kindly hospitality for a few
days, before proceeding on with my journey."
"Indeed," said Balarma, "we should be honored if a holy one were to see
fit to bless our monastery with his presence. We will make you welcome. If
there is anything you wish to assist you along your path, and we may be able
to grant this thing, please name it to us."
Aram fixed him with his unblinking green eye and said, "The monk who
first observed me did not wear the robe of your Order." He touched the dark
garment as he said it. "Instead, I believe my poor eye did behold one of