You could have at least warned me, complained the patient.
It works better without a warning.
The other man got off the ground with Arseny’s help and carefully stood on the reset leg:
Seems a little better.
Ride on horseback and do not walk for the time being, said Arseny. It will be completely healed in a few days.
The forest was no longer so dark. This was not yet dawn itself, only its portents. Arseny’s traveling companion looked at him with interest.
Maybe this is what had to happen, for Stinge to stay in Belozersk, he said pensively. Maybe it’s all for the better.
He took both horses by the bridle and began moving into the depths of the forest.
And you know what, you go the hell away, too. Son of a bitch, I get twitchy when I’m not alone. I’m going to go take a rest away from the road, then tonight I’ll slowly be on my way. And you, brother, just leave me the fur coat, you have a nice fur coat.
What? Arseny did not understand.
Take off the fur coat and you can go. You set the leg for me, I’ll let you out of this alive. What are you gawking at me for?
The knife glinted in his hand again. Arseny took off the fur coat and held it out to the stranger. The man took off his homespun coat and tossed it to Arseny.
Here, wear this.
He put on the fur coat, checking that it was not tight in the shoulders. He spun around ludicrously in front of Arseny. After thinking a minute, he went to the horse Arseny had been riding and unfastened the leather bag from the saddle, taking a long time. The straps would not come undone. He slit them with a knife and the small bag fell to the ground with a jingle. He picked up the bag and winked.
This is mine, that (he tossed the reins to Arseny) is yours. I don’t need the second horse. Go wherever you like, even to Belozersk. You can get some sleep along the way. The horse is from Belozersk, she’ll take you right there. And forget about me, you got that?
Arseny did not go to Belozersk. The gates of that city had closed behind him. He knew he would enter them no more. He had felt comfortable in Belozersk and that was exactly why he had fled. That city distanced him from Ustina. Arseny came onto the road and headed in the opposite direction to Belozersk.
He felt downcast as he rode along. Despite his former traveling companion’s request, Arseny could not forget him. Arseny was not upset with how his companion had treated him. He was not even upset by the obvious fact that it was not an angel who had led him from the city, something he had, truth be told, dreamed about. Arseny felt agitated as he advanced slowly in an unknown direction. The agitation was seemingly unfounded, but with each minute it grew clearer that the agitation was swirling around the person he had left behind. Arseny knew he could not return, for that person had sent him away. And that person was alone, so he was not twitchy.
After riding for about another hour, Arseny remembered that a few of Christofer’s manuscripts, the ones he had put in his pocket at the last minute, were still in the fur coat. He began feeling regret about the manuscripts: it was unlikely they held any value for the new owner of the fur coat. He could have returned them. Arseny grasped that he now had an excuse to see his traveling companion again. And so he turned his horse. He rode back and the agitation intensified.
Arseny dismounted by the place where he needed to leave the road. He tied the horse to a tree and headed into the forest. He already noticed some sort of motion far off, beyond the bare trees. A person was walking around in his fur coat between two horses, but Arseny recognized that he was not the person who had ridden with him that night. They had never met but Arseny recognized the person must be Stinge. Stinge held a cudgel in his left hand. He was most likely a leftie. A few steps later, Arseny saw his traveling companion, too.
He was lying in an unnatural pose on the ground behind one of the horses. He was turned so his face looked up and, for some reason, he was holding one arm behind his back and his legs were convulsively scraping at the ground. One of his heels had dug a shallow trench edged with pine needles. He looked at Arseny with unseeing eyes and in them Arseny could read what awaited this person.
Arseny paid no attention to Stinge as he bent over the dying man. He was no longer moving. Stinge thought for a moment and lowered the cudgel on Arseny’s head.
It was darkish in the forest. And difficult to determine if it was sunset or sunrise. Only when it began to lighten a bit was it clear that it was sunrise. Arseny gathered his strength and was able to separate his head from the hard thing it rested upon. It was his traveling companion’s body. It was just as cold as the ground.
But I am warm, Arseny said to Ustina. I, who am guilty of his death, am warm and alive. Now I have been saved—only for your sake—but he, like you, is on my conscience. I doomed him with one spoken word. If I had not told him I was ready, he would not be lying here so cold. Arseny remembered Arsenius the Great, who more than once regretted the things he said but never once regretted his silence. From now on, I do not want to speak with anybody but you, my love.
Arseny held onto a tree and stood. There were no horses now. Stinge had most likely taken them. Arseny plodded toward the road. The horse he had tied there still stood in the same place. He untied her and led her into the depths of the forest, grasping the mane so as not to fall. He reeled from side to side.
Arseny sat down to rest when they got to the dead body. Arseny gathered his strength and dragged the dead man toward the horse and tried to lay him across the saddle. The slain man, who would no longer bend, slid off several times. He fell to the ground with a dull, hardened sound. By sheer force of will, Arseny threw the man’s arms on the saddle and pressed his head against the man’s legs, pushing the body upward. Indifferently balanced, the slain man began wobbling in the saddle. The gaze in his open eyes expressed indifference, too. He had the look of a man who wanted to be left alone.
Arseny managed to sit the corpse in the saddle and turn his face forward. When Arseny could not find anything with which to tie him to the horse, he checked the dead man’s boots. In one of them lay the knife the man had threatened him with just the day before. Arseny took off the homespun coat he had been given and began cutting it into thin strips. By tying them together he came up with a fairly long cord. He bound the deceased’s legs to the saddle using the cord.
Arseny led the horse onto the road.
You are from Belozersk, he said. Take him there, for there they will commit him to the earth.
The horse gave Arseny a long look and would not get going.
I am not going, said Arseny. He needs you more. He smacked the horse lightly on the rump.
The horse got going, heading in the direction of Belozersk. The dead horseman rode, nestled into her mane. Arseny watched them as they grew more distant and transparent, turning into one large circle that disintegrated into small circles. The circles floated, not coming into contact. When they met, they simply passed through one another. Arseny vomited. His feet no longer held him.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… they thought: he is dead, since he did not look alive ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………