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

"But first I must meditate for a time," he finished.
He turned back again and stared out over the waters.
A shooting star burnt its way across the heavens. The ship moved on.
The night sighed about him.
Sam stared ahead, remembering.



II
One time a minor rajah from a minor principality came with his retinue
into Mahartha, the city that is called Gateway of the South and Capital of
the Dawn, there to purchase him a new body. This was in the days when the
thread of destiny might yet be plucked from out a gutter, the gods were less
formal, the demons still bound, and the Celestial City yet occasionally open
to men. This is the story of how the prince did bait the one-armed receiver
of devotions before the Temple, incurring the disfavor of Heaven for his
presumption. . .
Few are the beings born again among men; more
numerous are those born again elsewhere.
Anguttara-nikaya (I, 35)
Riding into the capital of dawn at mid-afternoon, the prince, mounted
upon a white mare, passed up the broad avenue of Surya, his hundred
retainers massed at his back, his adviser Strake at his left hand, his
scimitar in his sash, and a portion of his wealth in the bags his pack
horses bore.
The heat crashed down upon the turbans of the men, washed past them,
came up again from the roadway.
A chariot moved slowly by, headed in the opposite direction, its driver
squinting up at the banner the chief retainer bore; a courtesan stood at the
gateway to her pavilion, studying the traffic; and a pack of mongrel dogs
followed at the heels of the horses, barking.
The prince was tall, and his mustaches were the color of smoke. His
hands, dark as coffee, were marked with the stiff ridges of his veins.
Still, his posture was erect, and his eyes were like the eyes of an ancient
bird, electric and clear.
Ahead, a crowd gathered to watch the passing troop. Horses were ridden
only by those who could afford them, and few were that wealthy. The slizzard
was the common mount-- a scaled creature with snakelike neck, many teeth,
dubious lineage, brief life span and a vicious temperament; the horse, for
some reason, having grown barren in recent generations.
The prince rode on, into the capital of dawn, the watchers watching.
Passing, they turned off the avenue of the sun and headed up a narrower
thoroughfare. They moved by the low buildings of commerce, the great shops
of the great merchants, the banks, the Temples, the inns, the brothels. They
passed on, until at the fringe of the business district they came upon the
princely hostel of Hawkana, the Most Perfect Host. They drew rein at the
gate, for Hawkana himself stood outside the walls, simply dressed,
fashionably corpulent and smiling, waiting to personally conduct the white
mare within.
"Welcome, Lord Siddhartha!" he called in a loud voice, so that all