By noon, Bemish was drunk with blood, the servants lagged somewhere behind, he, Kissur and Ashidan rode out to a lawn overgrown with red flowers. Kissur, having ridden to another side of the lawn, was making out moss on a tree, he was probably foretelling.
At this moment, a bear cub jumped out on the lawn and crazily rushed up the tree.
"Don't do it," Kissur told his brother, "It's a bad omen."
But Ashidan had already pulled his bow and shot — the cub let the tree go and fell. Ashidan jumped off the saddle and ran to the cub. The bushes were pulled apart, a roar issued forth and a huge black and brown she-bear barged in.
"Ashidan," Bemish screamed.
Ashidan turned around. The she-bear rose on her hind paws and the youth stood in front of her, bewildered with a broken arrow pulled out of her son.
Bemish snatched at his gun. Before he raised his hand, Kissur had rolled off his saddle with a sword in his hand and dived under the bear's belly. Ashidan with a squeal jumped aside. Bemish fired. The bear swung its paws heavily in the air and crashed on Kissur. She shuddered and froze like a pile of peat dumped off a truck.
Bemish and Ashidan rushed to the bear.
"Kissur are you alive?"
No answer issued.
Bemish approached the bear and started pulling it by its ear. At this moment the pile of seemingly dead meat moved and Kissur materialized.
"Damn," he bared his teeth, "sword…"
But the sword, after they had turned the bear over, appeared to be fine
— it had entered her belly almost all the way to the guard. They examined her snout — the bullet hit the bear right in her eye.
Yes, the hunt was excellent, even Dried Date who was not capable of smiling screamed and hooted. He sat at the fire next to Kissur's knees and started singing his songs that Bemish had heard so many times from boom boxes in the workers' barracks that he came to liking them.
They rode back in the dusk. The horses walked down the path two abreast, black oily earth crumbled under their hooves, a forested slope rose like a dark wall on the right, the fuzzy sun was rolling behind the faraway mountains covered with gleaming snow like a cake glazed with white. The birds fluttered up from under the hooves and life was wondrously good. "Oh, my God, it's such a great place for a hotel," a thought passed Bemish's mind. He was a practical man and he always sought for ways to adjust nature to money.
After the bear cub accident, Ashidan saddened and it happened somehow that Kissur and his retinue raced in front and Bemish lagged behind them and rode next to Ashidan. The latter was pale — either due to the weed that the peasants grew in a local field or because of Cambridge. Bemish leaned to Ashidan and asked quietly,
"Does Kissur know that you are a drug addict?"
"I am not a drug addict, I am just curious! I can stop this any moment."
Bemish sniggered involuntarily. The youth shuddered. Then he abruptly turned his grey eyes to the Earthman. His pupils were unnaturally contracted.
It's not my fault, it's yours," he said, "Seven years ago Warnaraine was ruled from this castle, and now it's a dump because there is no eight line highway next to it! You have chased our gods away and what have you given us instead, a Pepsi can?"
Ashidan grabbed the Earthman by his hand.
"This weed has always grown here! They ate it to speak to the gods! You declared even talking to the gods to be a crime!"
"Come on, Ashidan! You don't converse to a god or a demon, you just gobble this weed up to get high and you are afraid of Kissur because he will throw you into a hospital for drug addicts or just chain you."
"I am afraid of the sword he took," Ashidan said, "I saw this sword in Khanalai's hand and if people are killed, their souls enter their swords."
Khanalai was the rebel that fought Kissur seven years ago.
"Khanalai?" Bemish was astonished, "Have you met Khanalai?"
"He took me prisoner," Ashidan answered.
Bemish stared at the youth — he was young, slim like a snake and incredibly beautiful, with golden hair and grey eyes heavily mascara coated for the hunt.
"Oh, my God! How old were you?"
"I was fifteen, almost fifteen. Kissur entrusted me with five thousand horsemen and Dried Date and Aldon's uncle — Aldon the Striped — were with me. We should have waited for Kissur in the Black Mountains. But we heard that down there, in the town of Lukhun, merchants had come in for a fair and were bunched all together there because of the war. We decided to seize this town because we would get more loot if we didn't wait for Kissur.
So, we approached this town with a guide and when the sun came out we realized that it was a trap — Khanalai's army encircled us. Khanalai was going to catch Kissur."
Ashidan rocked in the saddle.
I rode forward and challenged Khanalai to a duel. My shield had an image of the White Falcon on it; Khanalai thought that Kissur himself got in his trap. He really didn't want to fight but he had to accept the challenge. He was afraid that his captains would mock him.
There is not much to say about this fight — Khanalai split my shoulder and threw me to the ground like a kitten and then he removed my helmet to cut my head off. He was really surprised and he asked me, "Who are you, brat, to wear a White Falcon shield?" I told him that my name was Ashidan and that my brother Kissur would avenge me and why wouldn't he just shut his lousy trap and cut my head off. I was a very cute boy and Khanalai suddenly took pity on me. He raised his sword and then he thought, "I will die — and these words contained all the horror of irreversible, you couldn't sleep at night having heard them. So, would it be worth it to bring the sword down?" At least, that's what he told me afterwards. So he threw me like a wench over his horse's back and rode to his army. And my army was obliterated down to the last man. You see, it was a war very different from a war between two countries. When one country and another country make a war, it's fair to spare the enemy and to make him your vassal. While when a government fights rebels, it's fair to obliterate the rebels completely.
"What happened to Dried Date?" Bemish suddenly realized.
"Dried Date and old Aldon were taken prisoners."
"And what happened next?"
They brought me and Dried Date to Khanalai's tent where he was feasting after the battle and Khanalai said that he would like to hear a song about this battle from Dried Date. Dried Date answered that the battle was not finished yet because not everybody, supposed to be executed after this battle, was executed and when Khalai executed everybody who was supposed to be executed, there would be nobody left to sing this song. Khanalai grinned and gave his new lute and his sword to Dried Date, and this sword was so valuable that it cost more that Dried Date's honor. He sat and sang a song of praise to Khanalai and I don't think that you'll ever hear it from Dried Date or on a tape recorder. Then, Khanalai turned to me and said that he would like to let me go. I was insolent to him. He paused and said, "All right, they will crucify you tomorrow, brat. At first they will crucify Aldon and then you."
"What happened tomorrow?"
"They brought Aldon and me out and Khanalai said, `If you let me pardon you, I will let Aldon go.' I spit in his face."
Ashidan paused. He face paled completely and Bemish suddenly imagined how cute a boy he had been at "almost fifteen."
"Khanalai rocked on his feet for a while and then said, `You are too beautiful a boy to die.' They crucified Aldon and quarreled for a while and then took me away."
"And what happened to Dried Date?"