"E.Voiskunsky, I.Lukodyanov. The Crew Of The Mekong (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

would not remember him. If the Foreign Board were asked to pay a ransom,
would it consent?
"Now fortify yourself with food," the Hindu said to Fedor. "There is
not much time and we have quite a distance to travel."
A servant at the caravansarai brought in a bowl of rice and mutton
similar to the Uzbek pilau, and a pitcher filled with a cold liquid. Fedor
and the Kashgar merchant set about their meal. The Hindu rose and moved
towards the door.
"Why doesn't he have something to eat too?" Fedor asked in a low voice.
"Sh-h," the merchant whispered. "He's a Brahman. They never eat with
other castes. Besides, they don't eat meat and many other things."
"Who is he?" Fedor asked.
The merchant's reply was vague. "He must be an important person. All I
know is that his name is Lal Chandra and he comes from the Punjab, not so
very far away from here."
By evening Lal Chandra's covered wagon was some distance from Amritsar.
The driver, bare to the waist, urged on the horses. Lal Chandra dozed,
reclining against rug-covered cushions. Fedor lay on the floor of the wagon,
his thoughts far away, in distant Russia.
They drove through Lahore and then followed the bank of a river.
Afterwards they turned west and rode for a long time across a desert tract
that looked like the land in the vicinity of the Sea of Aral. They crossed
the beds of dried-up rivers. They followed the bank of one of these streams
and finally halted in front of an iron gate in a high stone wall.
The gate swung open to allow the wagon to pass through, then swung
shut. Fedor looked out but he could see no one beside the gate. Nor was
there anyone on the long road that wound through a park in which unfamiliar
trees grew. The hot air was filled with a heady fragrance, evidently from
the big, bright flowers. The wagon stopped before a tall stone mansion with
many niches in which stood strange creatures carved of stone.
Lal Chandra slowly descended from the wagon. Fedor sprang out after
him, stretching his stiff legs. Lal Chandra led him along a narrow, vaulted,
dusky passage into a large cool room where a big statue of polished stone
stood. Fedor had never seen anything like it, not even in his most horrible
nightmares. Three steps led up to a low pedestal on which sat a woman with
her feet tucked under her. Her face was unbelievably beautiful, her eyes
were blind, and her lips were curved into an enigmatic, frightening smile.
The woman had six arms. Two arms ended in hands folded peacefully in her
lap, two were bent at the elbow and raised, and two were thrust forward
menacingly. She had three pairs of breasts. Lal Chandra placed the palms of
his hands in front of his face and prostrated himself before the statue. He
remained motionless for a long time.
"He obviously isn't Moslem," Fedor thought, "if he is praying to this
idol."
Finally the Hindu rose and bowed three times before the goddess. Then
he led Fedor into a small room that resembled a monk's cell, with bare stone
walls and a vaulted ceiling. Slanting rays of sunshine coming through a
window near the ceiling provided the illumination. In the floor was a pool
filled with water, evidently running water.
"I do not know whether your gods prescribe ablutions," said Lal