Fly Hunter: The Story of an Inquisitor - страница 24

"Don't be jealous of evil people and don't wish to be with them: for their heart thinks about violence, and their mouth speaks evil. By wisdom a house is built, and by understanding it is established."

Over Ahmed's grave, a speech was delivered:

– Today, we bid farewell to our friend, our comrade-in-arms, one of the indomitable fighters against global injustice, against the exploitation of man by man. In the Serra mountains, he repeatedly proved his unwavering bravery, desperate courage, and steadfastness. He dedicated all his strength to serving the people, to the cause of the rebels. The underground in the Serra mountains forged his character; his heart turned to iron, sometimes even steel. Step by step, he climbed the ladder of his earned glory, a life full of dangers but also the joys that these dangers bring. Neither threats nor bribes, neither cold nor heat, nor rain nor snow could deter him from this path of glory. He reached the summit, but his heart, filled with love for his suffering people, could not bear this monstrous burden, this selfless dedication. We will all remember this remarkable man, a wonderful father and teacher. You, my friend, will serve as an example for everyone, entering the future legends that a grateful people will compose about heroes like you. Rest peacefully, brave friend. You did all you could!

The orchestra played a funeral march. Farewell salutes pierced the cemetery's silence, adorning Gyaurov's grave in the alley of eternal glory with mountains of wreaths and fresh flowers… The mourners dispersed silently. Many were ashamed to look each other in the eye.

Aman-Jalil swiftly expanded his bustling activities. His appointment as the third deputy in the Inquisition was met with cool, if not outright cold reception. Two factions within the Inquisition vied against each other, smiling and kissing on meetings. "Didn't sleep well, my dear? Pale as a ghost, take care of yourself, need me to recommend a doctor?" "Thanks, my friend! How are things with you?" "Flourishing and smelling sweet!" "Indeed, life couldn't be better."

Both factions kept an eye on Aman-Jalil, strategizing to sway him to their side. Thus, neither faction gave him any of their own people, take whoever you want. Aman-Jalil paid homage to Ahmed, doubling the Inquisition's ranks, and recruited his own supporters, all who hung on his every word, drank from his bottle. Instantly, he became a force to be reckoned with.

No one knew how to enforce the directive on confiscation, so Aman-Jalil did whatever he deemed necessary. He swiftly identified those with movable and immovable property: wealthy merchants, remnants of the aristocracy… He taxed all the underground millionaires. According to the palace-approved list, Aman-Jalil razed a clan every day, those displeasing Iosif Besarionis.

Aman-Jalil's men stormed homes, confiscated valuables, leaving a receipt as a reminder that they once lived well. Those who resisted were killed: shot or stabbed. If nothing was found but they were on the list, they were tortured until they revealed a hiding place or died. Few could hide anything while watching their wives and daughters being violated, their sons abused. Who could trade their children for wealth? Will all the gold in the world, all the diamond mines of Golconda, replace the laughter of happy children, the sparks of happiness in their eyes…