"Philip Jose' Farmer. The Green Odyssey (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

Miran, the merchant-captain, said, "Your pardon, gracious lady, but the
King of Estorya has done no such thing. The Estoryan law demands that all
suspected demons should be kept in prison for two years. Everybody knows
that a devil can't keep his human disguise more than two years. At the end
of that time he reverts to his natural mesh and form, a hideous sight to
behold, blasphemous, repulsive, soul-shaking."

Miran rolled his one good eye so that only the white showed and made the
sign to ward off evil, the index anger held rigidly out from a clenched
fist. Jugkaxtr, the household priest, dived under the table, where he
crouched praying, secure in the knowledge that demons couldn't touch him
while he knelt beneath the thrice-blessed wood. The Duke swallowed a whole
glass of wine, apparently to calm his nerves, and belched.

Miran wiped his face and said, "Of course, I wasn't able to find out much,
because we merchants are regarded with deep suspicion and scarcely dare to
move outside the harbor or the marketplace. The Estoryans worship a female
deity-ridiculous, isn't it?-and eat fish. They hate us Tropatians
because we worship Zaxropatr, Male of Males, and because they must depend
on us to bring them fish. But they aren't close-mouthed. They babble on
and on to us, especially when one has given them wine for nothing."

Green finally released his breath in a sigh of relief. How glad he was
that he had never told these people his true origin! So far as they knew
he was merely one of the many slaves who came from a distant country in
the North.

Miran cleared his throat, adjusted his violet turban and yellow robes,
pulled gently at the large gold ring that hung from his nose and said, "It
took me a month to get back from Estorya, and that is very good time
indeed, but then I am noted for my good luck, though I prefer to call it
skill plus the favor given by the gods to the truly devout. I do not boast,
O gods, but merely give you tribute because you have smiled upon my
ventures and have found pleasing the scent of my many sacrifices in your
nostrils!"

Green lowered his eyelids to conceal the expression of disgust which he
felt must be shining from them. At the same time, he saw Zuni's shoe
tapping impatiently. Inwardly he groaned, because he knew she would divert
the conversation to something more interesting to her, to her clothes and
the state of her stomach and/or complexion. And there would be nothing
that anybody could do about it, because the custom was that the woman of
the house regulated the subject of talk during breakfast. If only this had
been lunch or dinner! Then the men would theoretically have had
uncontested control.

"These two demons were very tall, like your slave Green, here," said Miran,
"and they could not speak a word of Estoryan. Or at least they claimed
they couldn't. When King Raussmig's soldiers tried to capture them they
brought from the folds of their strange clothes two pistols that only had