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The Book of All-Power

Chapter 7 KENSKY OF KIEFF

Word Count: 3359    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

he stirrups and descended, for his journey had been a long one, the day was poisonously hot and the steppe across which he had ridden, for all its golden beauty,

aving his horse to its own devices, he mounted the bank by the side of the road, from whence he c

ng, steep and winding road, lay t

qualid; the half-revealed roofs on the wooded slopes of the four hills, and the

to leave. He climbed the broken stone wall and stood, his hands thrust deeply into his breeches pockets, watching the scene. It was one of those innumerable holy days which the Russian peasant celebrated with such zest. Rather it was the second of

, walked quickly up the hill leading a laden donkey. The man stopped when he w

dudushka," he s

le grandfather," and that for all his obvious y

my little man

k eyebrows that met above his nose. Malcolm Hay knew the type, but to-day being for

"I come from the village of Potchkoi wh

y and many calves," sai

do you ride into o

," said

to avoid the Street o

lm wa

towering belfries shimmering with gold that rose above the shoulder of a distant hill. "I am Gleb, the son of Gleb, and it is said that we go back a thousand years to the Holy Ones. Also, it was prophes

d Malcolm with a smile, "but first you must tell me

laughe

el Kensky," he s

t know of Israel Kensky. Malcolm realized with a start th

fended?" asked Malcolm, understan

rushed his sheepskin delicatel

sing the blood of Christian children. This is the way of Jews, as your lordship knows. Also he was seen on

eater offence had not ye

his soldiers to hold the people in check-or the Grand Duchess, his

they kill Kensky

ns. The young engineer had heard these stories of horrible rites practised at the expense

and there was a fanatical light i

his man has a book which is c

lm no

olish say,

ensky, who has been baptised in the faith of Our Blessed Lord,

e he has a book?" demanded Malcolm, k

his enemies and bring sorrow to the Christians who oppose him. Did not the man Ivan Nickolovitch throw a stone at him, and did not Ivan drop dead the next day on his way to mass, aye and turn black before the

ian peasantry. He had seen the work of his hands brought to naught, and a boring abandoned just short of the oil because a cross-eyed man, attracted by curiosity, had come an

"some day you will have more sense and k

eb, getting up and whistling for his d

e bend of the road making for the town. The first of these was a girl, and the man who followe

on in the middle of the road, blocking the way. The girl pulled up her horse with a

the way, fool," he boome

ts, his face was clean-shaven, but Malcolm, watching the scene idly, observed o

irl who spoke and she addresse

donkey by his bridle and drew him somewhat reluctantly to the side of the road. The girl's horse had been curveting and prancing nervously, so that it brought her to within a

the ivory-white of forehead and neck that she looked pale. The eyes, set wide apart, w

; but neither sight of her nor sound of her tired drawling voice, gave her such perman

o part in shaping his view. If he had met her in the dark, and had neither seen nor heard; if she had been a ba

d forehead and an unruly mop of hair, and beneath two eyes, now awe-stricken by her femininity (this she might have guessed) rather

of your donkey, I

mered, and she laughed again

on of a second he realized she was falling and held out his arms to catch her. For a moment she lay on his breast, her soft cheek against his, the overpowering fragrance of her presence taking h

you," s

id not encourage furthe

e. Will you hold

a way down the steep hill before he realized what had happened. He gazed after her, hoping at lea

side of the road, his hands clasped,

stily. "Why did you not hold the horse fo

heno," said the man huskily. "She is

!" gasped

a to have imbibed some of the awe

"it was her Magnificence, the

. The reality of his dreams a

d held her, like a man in a trance, and he was very thoughtful when

s than any other city in Europe. He was on his way to the Grand Hotel, and this necessitated hi

ed that the majority of the people were at the shrines in which Kieff abounds. He passed through the poorer Jewish quarter,

illed with knots of men and women, and their faces by common attraction, were turned in one direction. The focal point was a densely p

the Jew!" which was not unfamiliar to one who knew Kieff in moments of religious excitement. It was no business of his, and he drew his horse to the side of the street and wat

nial who had ridden behind the Grand Duchess. He was as violent and as energetic as the most lawless, and seemed engaged in pushing me

eal or command. Instinctively he knew its owner and spurred his horse into the throng, sending the people flying in all directions. There was a s

, who crouched behind her outstretched arms, his pale face streaming with blood. A broken key in the grille told the story of his foiled attempt to escape. Grimy hands clutched at Malcolm's knees as he drove through the press, a

l's side, and to his amazement his appearance

uickly as you can," she breathed

t you?"

dly. "It is the old man they want. Can

babel of sound. "Give us the book and you shall live!

elded. He half lifted, half carried the old man and pu

demanded Malcolm h

fingers and in doing so he crept behind his gu

," he called to the girl

e," she said over her

ed into the loose pocket of his jacket and a quiv

I will come for it at the Gr

essed back into the little lobby by their weight. Suddenly

come,"

ped the girl about the wais

tside came a clatter of hoofs on the cobbled roadway. There was a flash of red and white pennons, the glit

an, oblivious to the appeal of hand and voice

the girl, "or else very foolish.

very well," h

fere," she said quickly, "and I ought

dead horse lying

. He repeated the question, thinking she had not heard an

said, ignoring the qu

emembered the packet in his po

is y

. "They may come again to-night! My daughter t

" asked Malc

ips parted in a

'Book of

trust you with it for one night, gospodar, because you are English. Ah, well, you are not Russian. Guard it closely, for it holds the secret of tears and of happiness. You shall learn how to make

could on

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