"A. E. Merritt - Dwellers in the mirage" - читать интересную книгу автора (Merritt A. E)

priest from remote antiquity. Even an indifferent churchman would have
considered it blasphemous to the point of damnation. I was too much
interested to think much of that phase of it. I had the same odd sense
of familiarity with it that I had felt at the first naming of Khalk'ru.
I felt none of the repulsion, however. I felt strongly in earnest. How
much this was due to the force of the united wills of the twelve
priests who never took their eyes off me, I do not know.

I won't repeat it, except to give the gist of it. Khalk'ru was the
Beginning-without-Beginning, as he would be the End-without-End. He was
the Lightless Timeless Void. The Destroyer. The Eater-up of Life. The
Annihilator. The Dissolver. He was not Death--Death was only a part of
him. He was alive, very much so, but his quality of living was the
antithesis of Life as we know it. Life was an invader, troubling
Khalk'ru's ageless calm. Gods and man, animals and birds and all
creatures, vegetation and water and air and fire, sun and stars and
moon--all were his to dissolve into Himself, the Living Nothingness, if
he so willed. But let them go on a little longer. Why should Khalk'ru
care when in the end there would be only--Khalk'ru! Let him withdraw
from the barren places so life could enter and cause them to blossom
again; let him touch only those who were the enemies of his
worshippers, so that his worshippers would be great and powerful,
evidence that Khalk'ru was the All in All. It was only for a breath in
the span of his eternity. Let Khalk'ru make himself manifest in the
form of his symbol and take what was offered him as evidence he had
listened and consented.

There was more, much more, but that was the gist of it. A dreadful
prayer, but I felt no dread--then.

Three times, and I was letter-perfect. The high priest gave me one more
rehearsal and nodded to the priest who had taken away the clothing. He
went out and returned with the robes--but not my clothes. Instead, he
produced a long white mantle and a pair of sandals. I asked for my own


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clothes and was told by the old priest that I no longer needed them,
that hereafter I would be dressed as befitted me. I agreed that this
was desirable, but said I would like to have them so I could look at
them once in a while. To this he acquiesced.

They took me to another room. Faded, ragged tapestries hung on its
walls. They were threaded with scenes of the hunt and of war. There
were oddly shaped stools and chairs of some metal that might have been
copper but also might have been gold. a wide and low divan, in one
corner spears, a bow and two swords, a shield and a cap-shaped bronze
helmet. Everything, except the rugs spread over the stone floor, had