***
It was a high morning when a terrible pain woke him up. He opened his eyes and saw some moving figures in the distance.
He felt that his hand hurt terribly. He looked at it and saw a huge Kara Kurt on it. He tried to recall what his grandpa said about its bite and its remedy, but he couldn’t remember anything. His legs felt dead. Neither could he feel his fingers. His eyelids became too heavy, too.
He fell asleep.
In his dream he saw his grandpa. It was hard for him to talk but he managed to utter a sentence:
“I have crossed the Karakum, grandpa, and I wasn’t afraid!”
2005.
ONCE UPON A TIME
“Give me some water,” Bakur said with great difficulty and rose on his elbows. His grandson put a bowl full of water to his lips. The old man took a sip and lay back pretty exhausted.
He touched the scar on his chin with a sinewy hand. It was a long scar, running from the cheekbone down to the chin. He had two more deep scars on the forehead.
Bakur was lying in a cool, half dark room. He was lying and waiting for death. His arms were feeble, his chest was lean and hollow, and he could hardly breathe. His aquiline nose now seemed crooked; his dark blue eyes were fallen, but they still expressed an incredible sternness, felt in his gaze. He was lying in a wooden bed. He was well over eighty, but he didn’t know for sure how old he was.
“I’m leaving my weapons to you. You should grease the swords and daggers well, and don’t forget to clean the flintlock gun as well, don’t let it rust,” he said, giving a challenging look at his grandson. He paused for a while and then went on: “You will be the only man in the family now. Nobody knows when your dad is going to come back from the war. You shouldn’t obey the women’s will. Be the decision-maker. Meet your kin and enemies as they deserve it. And look after the livestock. Take a special care of the horses; don’t let them get fat.
The speech proved to be tiring for the old man. He closed his eyes and fell asleep for a little while. Then, as if recalling something very important, he opened his eyes again and added:
“If you happen to run into the Khornaulis somewhere, take a rapid action and kill them at once, or they will kill you! We have been at enmity with them for forty years, you know.”
Again he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
His grandson was sitting by his bed, watching the dying man very attentively. “Why are we at enmity with the Khornaulis, I wonder?” the boy thought and looked at the arms hanging on the wall.
“When you have enough cattle...” the old man went on, waking his grandson from his thoughts, “Order a new sword. Ours are already very old, their metal might be tired. In the evenings take swords in both hands and practice for some time not to get tired easily while fighting.”
He made several efforts to swallow saliva, but in vain, his mouth was dry. The grandson gave him some water again.
“Keep the powder flask tied to your belt, near your right hand. And keep flint and tinder in the purse, too. You should often change it in the gun. Pick the flint in the upper gorge, it is much better there. And change the strings and strips on the shield.”
Bakur got tired again and fell asleep.
***
In the morning the fog came down very thick. The battalion was going along the gorge very silently. They had to take a longer way to stay unnoticed.
There was a thick fog in the valley too. One could see nothing, but the battalion knew for sure that the enemy was camping there. The camp was fast asleep; only those on duty were standing on guard. But they could see nothing at twenty feet distance.
The battalion was led by the young prince, who kept Bakur by him all the time.
They went down to the valley and divided into two columns. They could hardly manage their horses. Then there came an order in a very low voice. Three hundred soldiers lit oiled torches at the same time, and attacked the enemy with a loud, blood-curdling cheer. They rushed forward with the lit torches so rapidly that the opposing side had no time even to take their bows and arrows. The battalion put to sword all the guards and put to fire all the tents. The half naked Persians were running about in despair. They couldn’t even use their arms, before they were killed.
Lying horizontally on his horse, Bakur rushed into the camp holding up his sword. He was followed by several of his men. The riders could hardly avoid the burning tents on their way. The master tent was at twenty feet distance when Bakur’s horse fell down. He continued his way running and ran into the enemy’s commander-in-chief who rushed out of the tent. Their fight didn’t last long. The commander fell down with a broken head. Bakur was also badly wounded in his head. Everything around him was painted red and he could see nothing because of the blood running down his forehead. Some unseen hand picked him up and put him on a horseback like a sack. It was Bakur’s fellow-fighter, the giant Gvtisso.
Everything was over in a moment. The battalion attacked the camp like a hurricane and left the valley scattered with the two thousand bodies and the burnt down tents. The King thanked Bakur and gave him a lot of valuable gifts.
He had fought about ten fights after that, and he always showed chivalry and heroism. In the last battle he was already seventy. It was then that he got the scars on his face.
***
The grandson was still scrutinizing the arms hanging on the wall. At times he looked at his grandpa. Bakur was breathing steadily. His face was quite calm too.
“Why are we at enmity with the Khornaulis, I wonder?” he thought again. At that very instance the grandfather opened his eyes again.
“Grandpa!”
The grandfather turned his head.
“Why are we at enmity with the Khornaulis?”
The old man thought for a while. Obviously, he was trying hard to recall something. Then a smile spread over his face. He closed his eyes and deceased smiling at his grandson.
2005.
MARGOT
“Good morning, Madam Annette!”
“Good morning, Margot! You have arrived early today.
“Yes. I took a night train and was already at the station early this morning. I even had a little walk before I came here. Is he still asleep?”
“I don’t know. I’ll go and check.”
Margot went down several stairs, found a bench in the garden, sat down, and sank deep into her thoughts.
She remembered the events that took place two days earlier. She had never had such a client. He was a man of medium height, quite handsome, with dark blue eyes. First he invited her to the restaurant. They talked a lot about different things. Then he told her his own adventure in details. The adventure was not very exciting, but it still attracted Margot’s attention. He didn’t hurry to go upstairs; as if the conversation was more important for him. In the end, he suggested her to go upstairs. Margot got a bit irritated by the strange circumstances.
“He doesn’t seem to be in a hurry, but I might be missing the next client,” she thought.
But the man was definitely not in a hurry. When they were going upstairs, he paused for a moment, as if guessing her thoughts, and tried to explain something to the woman with a smile:
“What’s your name?’
“Margot.”
“Don’t you worry, Margot, and please don’t hurry. I’m going to pay you much enough.”
He was different from the others in another way too – he was very tender and affectionate. He talked calmly, and he talked a lot, without a minute’s pause. He paid her a lot of money indeed, and he left in the morning.
“Mother! Mummy!”
Margot was a bit startled. She turned around and at that very moment a little boy with golden hair jumped at her and hugged her.