Later…
When they were burning the village and approached one house, there a young man with a bundle hurriedly left the house, jumped on a horse and wanted to run away. But suddenly there was a shot that hit the loschad . The horse fell, but the rider was not injured. He took the bundle and ran to the fields on the outskirts of the village. Two horsemen caught up with him, killed him and brought a bundle. There was only this book in the node.
The son of the Pasha of Mosul opened a knot embroidered with gold threads, took out a book, turned it over a couple of times, opened a few pages and looked through it. Then he closed the book and indifferently handed it to the officer:
- Throw it into the fire.
The officer took the book from his hands and held it to the fire.
Fakir Nekash instantly came out of his stupor: "No, not that."
This book was written by the hand of Angel Shikhsna. The Spirit of God descended on the angel Shikhsna, he wrote down the words of the Lord in this book. Seventy-seven generations of the family of fakir Nekash kept this book from water, fire, attacks of princes, pashas, shahs and sultans. No stranger's hand has ever touched this sacred book. How many people have sacrificed their lives for this book? And now she will be thrown into the fire? This should not happen. And Fakir Nekash stood in front of the officer and prayed:
— Do not throw the book into the fire, it is the word of God, do not blaspheme.
He said and stretched out his hands to the book. The officer hit him in the face. He covered his face with his left hand, and stretched out his right hand to the book again. This time, one of the soldiers hit the fakir in the right thigh with the butt of a rifle. Fakir Nekash staggered a little, then fell to the ground like a mown ear.
The book was thrown into the fire. Fakir Nekash got up from his seat, despite the pain, reached the fire, entered the flame and came out of it with a book in his hands.
The book was bound in leather, so the fire did not have time to burn it.
The fakir's clothes were on fire in places, but he didn't care. He clutched the book to his chest and wanted to run. But two soldiers caught up with him, caught him and brought him to the son of the Pasha of Mosul, forcing him to kneel, and began to wait for the commander's order.
One of the soldiers forcibly took the book from him and gave it to the Pasha. This time he himself came up to the fire, grinning, looked at the captured Yezidis and carelessly threw the book into the fire. He looked at the fire for a moment, then turned his back, walked away and sat down in the distance.
Fakir Nekash hurriedly got up, holding his back, which was bent with pain, again rushed into the fire and pulled out a book.
This time, several soldiers began to beat him with their fists, feet and rifle handles. They took the book from him again and threw it into the flames.
The fire burned stronger and wider. The flames were already reaching the sky.
This time Fakir Nekash quietly got up from his seat, proudly raised his head, reading a prayer, and slowly walked towards the fire.
He was no longer in a hurry. He knew it wouldn't be too late. He stepped straight into the flames of the fire, straightened his back, raised his head and stood up. But he could not resist the fire, bending his head a little, he covered his face with his right hand. Then he bent all over, shrank and burned on the spot.
There was an uproar among the Yezidis. The women beat their chests. Then the kavals began to read the kavl "Seremerge". All the other voices had subsided.
A group of kavals escorted him to the Lord!
There were more and more voices. For a while, it seemed that the Lalysh Gorge was filled with the melody of the kavls.
Some time ago it was cloudy, dark and heavy clouds covered the sky. But suddenly the cloud gave a crack, through the clouds Shems illuminated the earth with rays.