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Secret City - 8

PROLOGUE

I am the true Vine, and My Father is the Vinedresser. Every branch of Me that does not bear fruit He cuts off, and every branch that bears fruit He purges, so that it may bear more fruit.
Gospel of John

Transbaikalia, Chita region,
Verkhniye Kamenki village.
Two years before the events described.
This year the rains started starting in August, right after the Transfiguration. But in the first week after the holiday they only drizzled, turning the rest of the summer into dreary everyday life covered with water dust. But at the beginning of September they turned into full-blown downpours and made an indecent dirty mess out of the only road connecting the village with the world. However, thaw was not uncommon here, and the natives, whose fleet consisted of assorted jeeps and small trucks, even rejoiced at this time, during which the closed little world of Upper Kamenki was guaranteed not to be invaded by strangers.
Strangers were not welcome here.
- The governor wants to be elected for a second term, he has paved the entire region, why the hell are you resisting? - The policeman, a fat captain with a big soft nose and big lips, looked upset at his blue and white jeep covered in mud. More precisely, the policeman remembered that the jeep should be white and blue. - I almost lost my axle during the crossing!
- It was you, Stepan Vasilyevich, who passed the ford, to the right, you must have taken it? - inquired his interlocutor, a stocky, broad-shouldered man with neatly parted hair. - So this year, on the contrary, you have to go to the left, a hole has formed on the right.
- Pit! Gregory, what hole? - The policeman cursed briefly. - Pit, ford, pit, swamp... Sit here, little biryuks.
- We're used to it. - The man grinned.
Compared to the rumpled and angry policeman, he looked unusually handsome. A clean suit, a clean shirt, trousers tucked into boots that were polished to a shine, a carefully trimmed beard. Grigory was shorter than the captain, but broader in the shoulders and literally breathed powerful strength, the real, powerful expanse of the Siberian taiga... only the left sleeve of his jacket was sewn up, reminiscent of a long-standing and extremely unsuccessful meeting with the connecting rod.
- Pit! We're used to it! - The captain sighed. - Why did you call?
The emotions caused by waking up at four in the morning and hundreds of miles of impassable mud subsided, and the policeman finally decided to ask why the head of the administration of a village lost in the taiga woke him up in the middle of the night and demanded his immediate, IMMEDIATE, arrival.
“Into the house, please,” Grigory suggested. - My wife has already milked, you can drink some fresh milk from the road, and I’ll tell you how and what.
- Speak here. - The policeman took a thermos of strong coffee from the jeep and lit a cigarette. - I don’t want to go into the house, we’ll stay in the cool...
- You can do it here too.
The rain had stopped several hours ago, and the captain's desire to enjoy the clean morning air was understandable. The men sat down on a bench by the porch.
- So what happened?
“We are restless,” Grigory answered simply.
“Yeah,” the policeman chuckled, “Methodius tore his boot yesterday, and Grandma Nina said it was not good?”
“Sort of,” the one-armed man did not accept the joke. - Fyodor’s two cows died, and I’m afraid that it might come to murder.
- What does murder have to do with it? - the captain didn’t understand.
- Are the cows dead?
- Two.
- Poisoned? Gregory lowered his eyes.
- Almost.
- What does “almost” mean?
- The whole village knows that Pelageya killed the cows.
- Poisoned? Are there any witnesses? The shepherd needs to be interrogated.
“There’s no need to interrogate the shepherd,” the one-armed man winced.

Humanity has long populated a great many worlds. But, carried away by large-scale space expansion, people forgot that a powerful enemy could be hidden in the depths of the Universe... And now man is no longer able to withstand the powerful onslaught of the aggressor. All that remains is to trust in the Creator...
And the Creator sends his “soldier of fortune” to perishing humanity......

King of the Hill
Panov Vadim

They were strangers in this world, because the Sun, which gives life to all living things, brought them death. And not only that. For hundreds of years, the Masans have been mercilessly exterminating each other. Some of them accepted the Dogma of Submission and found refuge in the Secret City, while others, who received the name Sabbat, chose freedom. And war. But the time has come, and even the most stubborn of the Sabbat realized that it is necessary to negotiate with the Great Houses, and the one who can do this will rightfully lead the family... Meanwhile, in the Secret City, things are also unfolding...

Messenger
Golovachev Vasily

The hero of the novel, Nikita Sukhov, becomes an accidental witness to the liquidation of the Messenger of the Light Forces on Earth. Having miraculously survived, he realizes that he is forever in the crosshairs of unearthly killers and could die at any moment. He can only accept the challenge and go through the terrible Path of the Sword in the Fan of Worlds as a new Messenger....

Fake mirrors
Lukyanenko Sergey

In the virtual world, everything is possible - only death is impossible. It was like that before, but it's not like that anymore. Somewhere in the labyrinths of the Deep, a mysterious Someone has appeared with the ability to kill for real. But the death of people in the Depth is the death of the Depth itself.
And then divers take to the streets of Deeptown......

Fall of Paradise
Kumin Vyacheslav

2000 years later, Lieutenant Kamyshov’s platoon, frozen in the mountains under an avalanche, received a chance for a second life - after all, only warriors from the past are able to save earthly civilization from a space invasion.

Sea of ​​Glass (Book 3)
Lukyanenko Sergey

The best Russian “space opera”! A fascinating story of an earthling thrown into the depths of space and leading a galactic war!

Silver and lead
Ulanov Andrey

From the “first department” of a security facility to a magical land inhabited by mythological creatures, it’s just one step. And don’t think that this is a step into a mental hospital - this is a Step into a parallel world. This is exactly what the newly minted KGB major Stepan Kobzev, who is deservedly included in the limited contingent of Soviet troops, will have to do. It is he who will have to make sure that it is more difficult to resist the magical abilities of the aborigines of an alien world than the military power of the army of a potential enemy who...

The path of the prince. Attack on the future
Zlotnikov Roman

Could the digger Danka know what awaited him during his next dive into the bowels of old Moscow? No, of course, there is always enough extreme sports in dungeons. But to fall into an unfamiliar hole without a lantern... In a word, as a result of this adventure, Daniel became the owner of a box with a fragment of an ancient manuscript. Some other words in the same language were scribbled right on top of the text of the manuscript...

What do the ancient writings, apparently written in blood, mean?

Damn? Prophecy?

In any case, their price...

Berserk
Kumin Vyacheslav

The main character ends up in prison, but he has to serve ten years. And for the murder he committed in his cell, he will probably get more punishment. An unexpected solution is found - a recruiter arrives at the prison, and Micah Kemple ends up in the army. He goes through everything: training, combat, captivity. After which he transfers to the elite squad "Berserker"....

Vadim Panov

Shadow of the Inquisitor

I am the true Vine, and My Father is the Vinedresser. Every branch of Me that does not bear fruit He cuts off, and every branch that bears fruit He purges, so that it may bear more fruit.

Transbaikalia, Chita region,

Verkhniye Kamenki village.

Two years before the events described.

This year the rains started starting in August, right after the Transfiguration. But in the first week after the holiday they only drizzled, turning the rest of the summer into dreary everyday life covered with water dust. But at the beginning of September they turned into full-blown downpours and made an indecent dirty mess out of the only road connecting the village with the world. However, thaw was not uncommon here, and the natives, whose fleet consisted of assorted jeeps and small trucks, even rejoiced at this time, during which the closed little world of Upper Kamenki was guaranteed not to be invaded by strangers.

Strangers were not welcome here.

The governor wants to be elected for a second term, he has paved the entire region, why the hell are you resisting? - The policeman, a fat captain with a big soft nose and big lips, looked upset at his blue and white jeep covered in mud. More precisely, the policeman remembered that the jeep should be white and blue. - I almost lost my axle during the crossing!

It was you, Stepan Vasilyevich, who passed the ford, to the right you must have taken it? - inquired his interlocutor, a stocky, broad-shouldered man with neatly parted hair. - So this year, on the contrary, you have to go to the left, a hole has formed on the right.

Pit! Gregory, what hole? - The policeman cursed briefly. - Pit, ford, pit, swamp... Sit here, little biryuks.

We're used to it. - The man grinned.

Compared to the rumpled and angry policeman, he looked unusually handsome. A clean suit, a clean shirt, trousers tucked into boots that were polished to a shine, a carefully trimmed beard. Grigory was shorter than the captain, but broader in the shoulders and literally breathed powerful strength, the real, powerful expanse of the Siberian taiga... only the left sleeve of his jacket was sewn up, reminiscent of a long-standing and extremely unsuccessful meeting with the connecting rod.

Pit! We're used to it! - The captain sighed. - Why did you call?

The emotions caused by waking up at four in the morning and hundreds of miles of impassable mud subsided, and the policeman finally decided to ask why the head of the administration of a village lost in the taiga woke him up in the middle of the night and demanded his immediate, IMMEDIATE, arrival.

Into the house, please,” Grigory suggested. - My wife has already milked, you can drink some fresh milk from the road, and I’ll tell you how and what.

Speak here. - The policeman took a thermos of strong coffee from the jeep and lit a cigarette. - I don’t want to go into the house, we’ll stay in the cool...

It is possible here too.

The rain had stopped several hours ago, and the captain's desire to enjoy the clean morning air was understandable. The men sat down on a bench by the porch.

So what happened?

“We are restless,” Grigory answered simply.

“Yeah,” the policeman chuckled, “Methodius tore his boot yesterday, and Grandma Nina said it was not good?”

“Sort of,” the one-armed man did not accept the joke. - Fyodor’s two cows died, and I’m afraid that it might come to murder.

What does murder have to do with it? - the captain didn’t understand.

Are the cows dead?

Poisoned? Gregory lowered his eyes.

What does "almost" mean?

The whole village knows that Pelageya killed the cows.

Poisoned? Are there any witnesses? The shepherd needs to be interrogated.

Drank? - the policeman asked gloomily, feeling a wave of rage coming from the depths of his soul. Three hours off-road! At four in the morning I ran out of the house! Give the bastard a good whack in the head!

“I don’t drink,” Gregory continued just as quietly. He tried not to look at the captain. - Our places are like this, Stepan Vasilyevich: we can’t do without sorcerers. If something happens, you won’t get enough. You just arrived three and a half hours later, and what did I call you... I’m not talking about the doctor or veterinarian at all. - The one-armed man spat. - And Pelageya can speak her teeth, relieve pain, give advice on stomach problems, and in general...

What in general?

Rain can cause or drive away.

Why didn’t you send her away? - The policeman nodded at the dirty jeep with a grin. - Without rain, I would have gotten there in an hour and a half.

He saw that Gregory really believed in what he was saying.

And you, Stepan Vasilyevich, if you’re interested, take a ride through our fields,” the one-armed man suggested. - Or through pastures...

What's in the fields? - the captain became wary.

There is no such water there, clouds pass by.

Does Pelageya rule them?

The policeman poured himself more coffee and, taking a long sip, closed his eyes in bliss.

There was nothing strange in the fact that a remote village had its own witch. If in city newspapers you constantly come across sentences: “Damage, I’ll take it off 100%,” then here, in the taiga, as they say, God himself commanded. Another thing, and Stepan was convinced of this, there really was something in these village grandmothers. Some kind of secret. Force. In any case, about ten years ago, such Pelageya spoke her teeth to him. Yes, she spoke so much that until now the captain did not know the way to the dentist’s office.

The situation was clear. Her strong reputation played a cruel joke on the old woman - as soon as a problem arose, they blamed her for everything. We need to calm the men down, prevent lynching and find out...

Why did the cows die?

The veterinarian has arrived,” Grigory said reluctantly. - He said from a broken heart. The cows, they say, could not stand their hard life.

So everything is okay? What do you mean, no crime?

Everyone knows that Pelageya killed the cows,” the one-armed man repeated dully. - No one else.

Why should she?

She and Fedor had a fight. Her grandson got involved with city poachers, Fyodor turned him over to the police, and so Pelageya became enraged. - Grigory lit the next cigarette from the bull, carefully put out the cigarette butt and put it in a jar standing under the bench. - Fyodor was very angry at first.

Understand.

He wanted to have a good conversation with Pelageya, and she wanted him... In general, she showed him the way to... She knows her strength, the old one. There were never any hunters to deal with her. Fyodor to Kalinovka, to the priest, but he turned out to be the only one like you, literate. “The cows have died,” he says, “which means their time has come.” Then Fyodor gave up on everything and went to Chita. I don’t know who he talked to there, but yesterday he returned with some monk, with a preacher. In general, he brought a monk, he gathered the men on a “t-shirt”, this is a clearing on our outskirts, there are kids kicking a ball, he gathered them together and talked about something.

Gregory shrugged.

Just don't say you weren't there.

Well, he was,” muttered the one-armed man. - There were only five men there. And the preacher... - Genuine respect slipped into the man’s voice. - And the preacher said everything correctly. He spoke about God, about faith, about the need to defend it.

From whom?

“But from no one,” Grigory calmly answered. - Protect yourself within yourself, be strong, and not give in to temptations. Judge a person by his deeds, not by his words. In general, he said everything correctly. And this morning he ordered the men to gather in the square and invite the others. He stayed overnight with Fyodor. - Gregory again took out a jar and crumpled a half-smoked cigarette into it. “The preacher also said that humility and submission are not the same thing, that one must stand firmly on faith and unite with those who are equally strong.

"Unite!" The word penetrated the policeman’s head like a red-hot needle, recalling the rumors circulating in Chita about the mysterious religious organization, whose preachers actively worked among the parishioners of the region.

Is this monk by chance not from the Orthodox Union? Not from the Curia?

The one-armed man nodded.

That's rubbish! - the captain could not restrain himself.

The matter was taking a completely bad turn: the policeman was absolutely displeased with all these religious and sectarian affairs. At the last meeting in the district administration, Colonel Kolobkov announced the appearance of the mysterious Union of Orthodox Christians and warned them to keep an eye on the preachers. But this is in the city. Stepan was sure that in his wilderness they had never even heard of such exoticism, and here it is on you!

You said that Pelageya does good. It takes the rain away from the fields, it speaks to the teeth... Why didn’t the men bring Fyodor to his senses?

And again, the threat of destruction loomed over the abode of magicians and sorcerers, descendants of the disappeared ancient races - the Secret City, invisible to prying eyes, spread out on the banks of the Moscow River in the middle of the modern metropolis. The first fires have already blazed, the blood of the unfortunate people has already been shed, sacrificed to the eternal desire for world domination. It seems that everything is ready for the start of a new war, and the times of the Inquisition will come to Earth again. Who benefits from causing conflict between people and residents? Secret City? Who is this mysterious puppeteer pulling the strings of destinies and events? And does he know that sometimes a puppet can control its puppeteer?

And again, the threat of destruction loomed over the abode of magicians and sorcerers, descendants of the disappeared ancient races - the Secret City, invisible to prying eyes, spread out on the banks of the Moscow River in the middle of the modern metropolis. The first fires have already blazed, the blood of the unfortunate people has already been shed, sacrificed to the eternal desire for world domination. It seems that everything is ready for the start of a new war, and the times of the Inquisition will come to Earth again. Who benefits from quarreling people and residents of the Secret City? Who is this mysterious puppeteer pulling the strings of destinies and events? And does he know that sometimes a puppet can control its puppeteer?

Transbaikalia, Chita region, Verkhnie Kamenki village. Two years before the events described.

This year the rains started starting in August, right after the Transfiguration. But in the first week after the holiday they only drizzled, turning the rest of the summer into dreary everyday life covered with water dust. But at the beginning of September they turned into full-blown downpours and made an indecent dirty mess out of the only road connecting the village with the world. However, thaw was not uncommon here, and the natives, whose fleet consisted of assorted jeeps and small trucks, even rejoiced at this time, during which the closed little world of Upper Kamenki was guaranteed not to be invaded by strangers.

Strangers were not welcome here.

– The governor wants to be elected for a second term, he has paved the entire region, why the hell are you resisting? – The policeman, a fat captain with a big soft nose and big lips, looked upset at his blue and white jeep covered in mud. More precisely, the policeman remembered that the jeep should be white and blue. – I almost lost my axle during the crossing!

- It was you, Stepan Vasilyevich, who passed the ford, to the right, you must have taken it? - inquired his interlocutor, a stocky, broad-shouldered man with neatly parted hair. - So this year, on the contrary, you have to go to the left, a hole has formed on the right.

- Pit! Gregory, what hole? – The policeman cursed briefly. - Pit, ford, pit, swamp... Sit here, little biryuks.

- We're used to it. – The man grinned.

Compared to the rumpled and angry policeman, he looked unusually handsome. A clean suit, a clean shirt, trousers tucked into boots that were polished to a shine, a carefully trimmed beard. Grigory was shorter than the captain, but broader in the shoulders and literally breathed powerful strength, the real, powerful expanse of the Siberian taiga... only the left sleeve of his jacket was sewn up, reminiscent of a long-standing and extremely unsuccessful meeting with the connecting rod.

- Pit! We're used to it! – The captain sighed. - Why did you call?

The emotions caused by waking up at four in the morning and hundreds of miles of impassable mud subsided, and the policeman finally decided to ask why the head of the administration of a village lost in the taiga woke him up in the middle of the night and demanded his immediate, IMMEDIATE, arrival.

“Into the house, please,” Grigory suggested. “My wife has already milked, you can drink some fresh milk from the road, and I’ll tell you how and what.”

- Speak here. “The policeman took a thermos of strong coffee from the jeep and lit a cigarette. “I don’t want to go into the house, we’ll stay in the cool.”

- You can do it here too.

The rain had stopped several hours ago, and the captain's desire to enjoy the clean morning air was understandable. The men sat down on a bench by the porch.

- So what happened?

“We are restless,” Grigory answered simply.

“Yeah,” the policeman chuckled, “Methodius tore his boot yesterday, and Grandma Nina said it was not good?”

“Sort of,” the one-armed man did not accept the joke. “Fyodor’s two cows died, and I’m afraid that it may come to murder.”

-What does murder have to do with it? – the captain didn’t understand. -Are the cows dead?

- Poisoned?

Gregory lowered his eyes.

– What do you mean “almost”?

“The whole village knows that Pelageya killed the cows.”

- Poisoned? Are there any witnesses? The shepherd needs to be interrogated.

- Drank? – the policeman asked gloomily, feeling a wave of rage coming from the depths of his soul. Three hours off-road! At four in the morning I ran out of the house! Give the bastard a good whack in the head!

“I don’t drink,” Grigory continued just as quietly. He tried not to look at the captain. “Our places are like this, Stepan Vasilyevich: we can’t do without sorcerers.” If something happens, you won’t get enough. You just arrived three and a half hours later, and what did I call you... I’m not talking about the doctor or veterinarian at all. – The one-armed man spat. - And Pelageya can speak her teeth, relieve pain, give advice on stomach problems, and in general...

– What in general?

– Rain can cause or drive away.

- Why didn’t you send me away? “The policeman nodded at the dirty jeep with a grin. – Without rain, I would have gotten there in an hour and a half.

He saw that Gregory really believed in what he was saying.

“And you, Stepan Vasilyevich, if you’re interested, take a ride through our fields,” suggested the one-armed man. - Or through pastures.

-What's in the fields? – the captain became wary.

“There’s no such water there, the clouds are passing by.”

– Does Pelageya rule them?

The policeman poured himself more coffee and, taking a long sip, closed his eyes in bliss.

There was nothing strange in the fact that a remote village had its own witch. If in city newspapers you constantly come across sentences: “Damage, I’ll take off 100,” then here, in the taiga, as they say, God himself commanded. Another thing, and Stepan was convinced of this, there really was something in these village grandmothers. Some kind of secret. Force. In any case, about ten years ago, such Pelageya spoke her teeth to him. Yes, she spoke so much that until now the captain did not know the way to the dentist’s office.

The situation was clear. Her strong reputation played a cruel joke on the old woman - as soon as a problem arose, they blamed her for everything. We need to calm the men down, prevent lynching and find out...

- Why did the cows die?

“The veterinarian came,” Grigory said reluctantly. – He said from a broken heart. The cows, they say, could not stand their hard life.

- So everything is all right? What do you mean, no crime?

“Everyone knows that Pelageya killed the cows,” the one-armed man repeated dully. - No one else.

- Why should she?

– She had a fight with Fedor. Her grandson got involved with city poachers, Fyodor turned him over to the police, and so Pelageya became enraged. – Grigory lit the next cigarette from the bull, carefully put out the cigarette butt and put it in a jar standing under the bench. “Fyodor was very angry at first.

- Understand.

- He wanted to have a good conversation with Pelageya, and she wanted him... In general, she showed him the way to... She knows her strength, the old one. There were never any hunters to deal with her. Fyodor to Kalinovka, to the priest, but he turned out to be the only one like you, literate. “The cows have died,” he says, “which means their time has come.” Then Fyodor gave up on everything and went to Chita. I don’t know who he talked to there, but yesterday he returned with some monk, with a preacher. In general, he brought a monk, he gathered the men on a “t-shirt”, this is a clearing on our outskirts, there are kids kicking a ball, he gathered them together and talked about something.

Gregory shrugged.

- Don't say you weren't there.

“Well, it was,” muttered the one-armed man. “There were only five men there.” And the preacher... - Genuine respect slipped into the man’s voice. “But the preacher said everything correctly.” He spoke about God, about faith, about the need to defend it.

- From whom?

“But from no one,” Grigory answered calmly. – Protect yourself within yourself, be strong, and not give in to temptations. Judge a person by his deeds, not by his words. In general, he said everything correctly. And this morning he ordered the men to gather in the square and invite the others. He stayed overnight with Fyodor. – Grigory again took out a jar and crumpled a half-smoked cigarette into it. – The preacher also said that humility and submission are not the same thing, that you need to stand on faith firmly and unite with those who are equally strong.

"Unite!" The word penetrated the policeman’s head like a hot needle, recalling the rumors circulating in Chita about a mysterious religious organization whose preachers were actively working among the parishioners of the region.

– Is this monk by chance not from the Orthodox Union? Not from the Curia?

The one-armed man nodded.

- From there.

- This is rubbish! – the captain could not restrain himself.

The matter was taking a completely bad turn: the policeman was absolutely displeased with all these religious and sectarian affairs. At the last meeting in the district administration, Colonel Kolobkov announced the appearance of the mysterious Union of Orthodox Christians and warned them to keep an eye on the preachers. But this is in the city. Stepan was sure that in his wilderness they had never even heard of such exoticism, and here it is on you!

– You said that Pelageya does good. It takes the rain away from the fields, it speaks to the teeth... Why didn’t the men bring Fyodor to his senses?

“We saw good things from her,” Grigory shrugged. “But she destroyed the cows in vain.” And the witch must be punished for this. – He paused. “We know her strength, but we won’t allow her to play pranks.”

- Then why did you call me?

The one-armed man grinned.

- Because the men need to be cooled down. With you, Stepan Vasilyevich, they will not commit murder. And I don’t want to ruin their lives. Cows aren't worth it.

- And what about yourself? You are the power here.

- What kind of power am I? – the one-armed man was surprised. “The men decide everything themselves, and I just have to shift the papers.” “He nodded at his empty sleeve. “You, captain, know yourself why I was appointed to the village council, and now the “head of the administration.” If it weren't for that damned bear, would I have bothered with such nonsense?

- And now you would be with men? – the policeman asked harshly.

“It would be,” Grigory answered after a short pause. - Because the witch needs to be punished. – He was silent again. - But I would have called you anyway. Everyone in our family is reasonable.

The crowd in the village center was not large. The men, about twenty to twenty-five, tightly surrounded the tall monk in a black robe, a group of women stood at a distance, not approaching, but carefully listening to what the preacher was saying. Children, the inevitable companions of gatherings, were absent this time. When the policeman and Grigory approached the meeting, the monk fell silent, and the men looked at the newcomers with gloomy looks. The captain looked at the crowd for a few moments, then smiled broadly:

- Great!

– Good morning“, - after a moment, the dark-haired, but with gray hair showing through, responded.

“Fyodor,” whispered the one-armed man.

The rest of the men limited themselves to inarticulate grumbling. It was clear that the appearance of a representative of the authorities caused them slight annoyance. But that's all. They were not going to give up their plans.

- Why aren’t we working?

“We have business,” Fyodor answered briefly. - Important.

- The prosecutor has business, and you have work. – Stepan sighed. - It’s hard.

- You, boss, first learn to be an agronomist, and then point.

“There will be no lynching,” Fyodor smiled calmly.

“God’s judgment, boss, is stronger than your justice,” another man interjected.

“I won’t allow lynching,” the captain repeated.

“I don’t think you should protect a witch, policeman.”

The preacher pronounced the phrase very quietly, but the silence that quickly settled in the square showed the respect with which the locals treated the monk. Stepan remembered how he came here with the assistant to the governor, with a candidate for State Duma deputy, with the head of the district administration. Then, too, there were meetings on this very square, but there were always those who chatted in the back rows or husked sunflower seeds, coming to the gathering “for company.” The locals listened to the preacher very carefully, like no one else, and that was bad. The policeman realized that he had already lost the first round.

-Are you a local priest?

“You know who I am,” the monk answered dispassionately. Gregory lowered his eyes. - There is no parish in the village.

- What is your name?

- Father Ivan.

-Are you a priest?

Tall, about sixty years old in appearance, the preacher amazed with the fire burning in his large eyes. On a dry, wrinkled face, they looked lively and young, captivating, attracting attention.

– Why do you call Pelageya a witch?

“That’s what the people said,” the preacher shrugged. – They are good Christians, Orthodox, and I see no reason not to believe them.

-What are you accusing her of?

“The Lord did not give me the right to accuse,” the monk explained patiently, like a foolish child. – I can only preach, carry His word... and help.

- How to help? Why did you even decide that there was even a drop of truth in their words? Those poor cows...

“Stepan Vasilyevich,” the preacher took a small step towards the policeman and lowered his voice even further. Now, despite all efforts, the residents gathered in the square did not hear a single word from the monk. He spoke only for the captain. - Stepan Vasilyevich, don’t bother me. Sooner or later you will realize that I am saving this woman. I save from them, I save from her herself. Do not bother me.

“I won’t allow lynching,” the policeman wheezed.

“If I wanted, Stepan Vasilyevich, you could only get to the village in the evening, but I am confident in your restraint and prudence.” You will come with us and see that I am right. Perhaps this will strengthen your faith.

Father Ivan looked around the square imperiously.

- We will go to Pelageya now!

The policeman frowned. The men around were not rowdy, they were sober, but he saw that they were stubborn. There's no stopping them now. One could go on principle, strike a pose, threaten, but each of them is a hunter, each house has a gun, or even more than one, and even a rifled one. The policeman did not believe that the men would take up arms, but he was not going to check. Grigory said that Fedor enjoyed great authority in the village. He was an assistant forester and knew the taiga like “Our Father.” And the men understood that Fyodor, not out of spite, but out of knowledge, showed them the dates and places of hunting, controlled logging and fishing. So that the taiga remains for their children and grandchildren. So that the beast does not leave and the wealth does not disappear. The policeman knew that Fedor had already “dealt” with both the Chinese and the poachers, and he guessed how these showdowns would end. The taiga is big, but the men didn’t want to let anyone in here. They were the masters here and were not going to tolerate anything from anyone: neither from strangers, nor from their own witch.

In vain, in vain, Pelageya contacted the foresters.

- They're coming! – Tanya looked at the old woman, and tears flashed in her eyes. - Grandma, they are coming!!

- Everything is alright, my dear. – Pelageya found the strength to smile and stroke her granddaughter’s blond hair. Her hand didn't shake. - Everything is fine. You go through the garden into the forest. Go, stay there, and then come back.

- I don't want! – The girl shook her head. - I'm with you.

“I’ll talk to them myself, my dear,” the old woman said calmly. “They won’t do anything to me.”

“Then why should I leave?”

- That's how it should be. – Pelageya became more serious. - I want it that way. Go.

Tanya nodded obediently and slowly walked towards the door.

“Go quickly,” the old woman ordered.

And only after making sure that she was left alone, Pelageya went out to the fence and leaned heavily on the post.

“Well, Fedor, one lesson wasn’t enough for you? It will still be". The old woman was confident in her abilities, and even the news about some monk that Tanya brought did not make her doubt. She was much more worried about the policeman.

“I hope he has the sense to remain silent about what he sees.”

There were two hundred steps left to the old woman's house.

To the great relief of the captain, the men behaved quietly. They walked towards Pelageya in silence, with concentration, there was no rage or malice on their faces. The men walked as if they were going to work, as if they were going hunting, as if they were in the field: calmly, measuredly, but inevitably. They frowned, of course, but they didn’t allow themselves too much. Either they were really afraid of the witch, or the presence of the preacher held them back. The monk walked first, his back straight as a stick, his head raised proudly, an open Bible in his hands.

“Exorcist,” the policeman smiled wryly. “Well, okay, preacher, let’s see what you do, and then, don’t blame me, you won’t be able to get away from the questions.”

What does the Curia need? Who is behind it? Why fool men, hiding behind the name of the church? The road to the city is long, willy-nilly you will start talking...

It was drizzling again. There were a hundred steps left to the witch's house.

“If you don’t talk, we’ll go to the department.” Let's call someone from the diocese and figure out who needs a witch hunt these days. Who needs to touch harmless old women..."

The captain stumbled and stopped, shocked by the simplicity of the thought that struck him.

“Why wait? They completely fooled me with their stories! Am I the power here or not?! I will not allow arbitrariness!!”

- Hey, guys, maybe stop fooling around? – The policeman wiped his face, wet from the rain. “They’re adults, but you believe all sorts of fairy tales!”

The crowd stopped moving. Stepan saw that the men looked around in bewilderment, looked around and did not express any desire to go further. Even the determined Fedor stopped for some reason.

“The poor old woman doesn’t know where to hide out of fear. Are you not Orthodox, guys? Why are you stirring up such passions here? Fedor!

- What am I doing? – the ringleader shrugged. - It came over me.

There were no more than fifty steps left to the witch's house, but the captain knew that he would never pass them. This is not necessary, it is wrong. What kind of witches are these days? The cows themselves died from the life of their cows.

- Come on, guys, turn back! – the policeman ordered authoritatively.

The preacher looked at him mockingly, smiled slightly and turned back towards the house.

- Wait for me.

- Don't spoil! Stay where you are!

The captain’s shout turned out to be menacing, but meaningless: the monk calmly, not noticing the confusion of the crowd, crossed the invisible line and headed towards the fence. I would have stopped him, detained him, but Stepan could not follow Father Ivan, and his next two screams were drowned in the drizzling rain.

“It’s in vain that this newcomer has taken a liking to our Pelageya,” one of the men muttered.

“Wow,” the second one supported him. “The old woman has never done anything bad to anyone.”

And the confused Fedor, standing very close to the policeman, turned his head in bewilderment, as if remembering what kind of misfortune had brought him to this end of the village. Or trying to understand what kind of force stopped him fifty steps from the witch’s house.

“My soul rests only in God; From Him is my salvation.

He alone is my rock, my salvation, my refuge: I will not be shaken any more.

In God is my salvation and my glory; The strength of my strength and my trust are in God.

Ivan knew the psalm by heart, but the open Bible gave him a more meek, humble appearance and was supposed to show the witch that he was not looking for her blood. The monk had no doubt that Pelageya was a witch: he felt a wave of magical energy moving towards the crowd from the house. Just as he had no doubt that he would be able to cope with the old woman. Ivan knew his capabilities very well and understood that he could defeat even a dozen such Pelageya. At least immediately, at least one by one.

“God said once, and I heard it twice, that God has the power,

And with You, Lord, is mercy; for You reward each one according to his deeds.

The next step came with with great difficulty. The air on the preacher’s path became viscous, enveloping his feet like a quagmire, trying to prevent the monk from reaching the witch’s house.

- There is no way for you to come here, man!

“Aren’t you going to block my path?”

- What if I?

- Is your strength enough?

Pelageya couldn’t offer any serious resistance, but she could do a lot of damage, and so Ivan calmly and firmly let the old woman know who was in control of the situation. What could a simple village woman oppose to him? A powerful blow twisted her incomprehensible spells and carried her away, like an angry autumn wind carries away yellow leaves. The next blow sealed the magical energy inside the old woman, and then carefully, very carefully, dissipated it into smoke, depriving Pelageya of her strength.

Ivan turned his calm gaze to the open Bible:

- Stop being angry and leave rage; do not be jealous to the point of doing evil.

For those who do evil will be destroyed, but those who trust in the Lord will inherit the earth. – He looked at the old woman. “You see, Pelageya, despite all the evil that you have caused these people, I strive to restrain my anger, because I believe in your repentance. You can still return to the path He showed.

The witch shuddered, looked away and grumbled gloomily:

“You hid your power well, monk.” I didn't smell it.

“But you shouldn’t have,” Ivan answered harshly.

- Why did you come? I've lived here all my life, I've known these guys since the days when they ran to the river as snotty boys. This is my land and my business.

“They called me,” the preacher explained. – They called because you forgot that you live on this land, and do not rule it. Because you forgot that we will put up with your power only until it is used for evil.

– Aren’t you afraid that someone will come to justice for you?

-Have you not repented?

“I’m just wondering,” the old woman answered with careful diplomacy. – You understand what I’m talking about, right?

“I understand,” Ivan nodded. - But you too, witch, understand: ONLY true faith works true miracles. What you are asking is not from God, and they should not fight with me.

- Inquisitor.

“Preacher,” the monk calmly corrected her. “I carry the word of God and strengthen people’s faith in Him. There is no sword in my hand, witch, but I have the right to His judgment.

- Merciful court? – The old woman looked hopefully at Father Ivan. With hope and with fear, desperately afraid to see the glow of cleansing fire in the preacher’s eyes.

- Fair.

The puzzled men pulled themselves up to the fence.

“This is...” Fyodor looked at the monk uncertainly. - I don’t know why we didn’t go...

– The walker remains in doubt, but one must find the strength in oneself to overcome them on the path to true faith. – Father Ivan looked at the men benevolently. – Open your soul, strengthen yourself in faith, and the power of His love will help you live righteously and not make mistakes.

The policeman was relieved that it would not come to murder. But a witch! The witch was clearly scared! What did the old monk do? The captain cleared his throat.

- In general, so...

“Pelageya admitted her guilt,” Father Ivan continued, not paying attention to the policeman. His piercing eyes fixed on the drooping witch. - And asks for leniency. She repents... Right?

The old woman nodded.

“She will pay Fedor a fine in the amount of three cows and donate another tenth of this amount to the needs of the regional children’s hospital. – The monk was silent. “And your penance, Pelageya, will be this: before the beginning of winter, you must go on a pilgrimage to Trinity and there atone for your sins before the Lord.” And work for another month, where the monks will show you.

The preacher turned around and moved back through the respectfully parted men, but stopped opposite Gregory.

– A tenth of what you earn this month will be given to charitable causes. And henceforth, do not put human judgment above God's judgment. Do not doubt His mercy and love.

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