Descendants of the Scythians - Страница 44

“All the nuggets have been carried away?”

“No. Those deposits are no good for a different reason. You see, my ancestor found two separate locations of gold deposits: one is very rich and the other has considerably smaller amounts of gold. I’m working at the smaller one. But even there I get enough gold to keep the soothsayer happy when I give it to him for his treasury. In this way I buy my freedom. The old soothsayer has learnt somehow that I’m the only person who knows the location of the deposits, and as he wants to continue to receive his regular allotment of gold, he does not interfere with my activities. And there’s enough gold there to last my whole lifetime, even should I live three hundred years! Old Dorbatay would, of course, want to find out exactly where I get my gold. But he is convinced that I won’t tell him. He’s already seen that even torture won’t allow him to get anything out of me.

“How do you know he’s convinced? And what do you mean by torture?” Varkan asked.

Without a word, Ronis pulled up the wide sleeve of his coat-like garment and rolled up his shirt sleeve, revealing long deep scars just above the elbow, as though the flesh had been cut from his arm in strips.

“That’s how Dorbatay tried to find out and how he was convinced I wouldn’t tell him anything. When he saw that I’d rather die than divulge anything, he let me go on condition that I’d bring him a certain amount of gold every week. Oh, he did try to have me followed, but nothing came of that either. I took the necessary precautions. So this gold is my only weapon now, and I won’t let go of it. I must live because of the goal I have to attain. You know that goal, don’t you, Varkan?”

He fell silent. Varkan grabbed his hand, squeezing it hard in an outburst of emotion.

“Don’t be cross at me, my friend,” he said impulsively. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you in any way! I surely did not mean to! And I’m also sorry for reminding you of things you’d rather not bring up. But you must agree that sooner or later, it would have been discussed.”

“I’m not angry with you, Varkan, and it’s good we’ve talked about these things at last. Only it’s unfortunate that we’ve taken so much of our guests’ time!”

“Oh, that’s perfectly all right! It was most informative to listen to you,” Dmitro Borisovich protested vehemently. “There’s even one more thing that we’d like very much to find out if you don’t mind talking about it.”

“Go ahead, ask your question,” Ronis said. “You’ve already learnt almost too much anyway.”

“Why are you using only the smaller of the deposits? What about the other one which is, as you say, much richer?”

“The richer one has been cut off by a rockfall. It’s impossible to get through to it. No one even knows, in fact, where to look. The last person who knew the exact location was my ancestor who discovered it. He charted the way to it in his will which he left sealed in a cave. But the cave is unaccessible now as it’s cut off by the same rockfall.”

This piece of information gave Dmitro Borisovich a jolt: a will in a walled-off cave, access to which had been cut off by a rockfall!

Ronis continued his story:

“But, as I’ve said, there’s enough gold for me in the smaller deposits. Should Dorbatay ever find the will — I don’t know exactly where the richer deposits are! — he would never be able to find the gold anyway. I’ll see to that! Besides, there’s a good guarantee that none of us will ever find it.”

“Why?” Ivan Semenovich asked seriously and pensively.

“I know for sure that my ancestor had to go a very long way to get to them, and to do so, he had to go beyond these mountains,” and Ronis pointed to the cliffs. “Now it is absolutely impossible to get to the other side of them through the underground passages, as they have been sealed off by rockfalls, and the mountains are too high for anyone to climb!”

Naturally, Artem thought. These are not mountains but the walls of this gigantic subterranean cavity, and at some point they must begin to curve inwards and continue to form the roof of the cave.

Ivan Semenovich was listening to the translation of what Ronis was saying with great attention: the Greek’s story quite unexpectedly turned out to be of great significance. Then he put his own question to the Greek:

“Is Ronis your real name? I’ve got the feeling something’s missing from it. I dare say that Pronis would sound better to my ear!”

Dmitro Borisovich could not suppress some nervous excitement translating this question, which was seemingly beside the point, but the intent of which was all too clear both to him and the rest of the explorers. Ronis — Pronis, the names were almost identical! Were the explorers on the threshold of the discovery that would enable them to solve the mystery put before them by the chest that had been discovered in the walled-off cave?

Ronis answered without any hesitation as if speaking about something of no importance whatsoever:

“Ronis and Pronis are the names that are traditionally given to the males of our family. The tradition runs many generations into the past. The names alternate from one generation to the other. In fact, Pronis was the name of my ancestor who discovered the gold deposits. His son was named Ronis. His grandson was Pronis, and so on down the line. My father’s name is Pronis, and my son, if I have one, would be called Pronis. That’s our family tradition and it must remain unchanged.”

Artem held his breath — everything fell into place: there was no reason to doubt that the man who had put down the cryptic words on the parchment they found in the chest was Ronis’s ancestor! Ronis’s story threw so much light on the text of the parchment and its directions as to how to get to the gold deposits! Oh Pronis, you could not ever have imagined what turbulent events would follow the discovery of your testament!

CHAPTER SIX

Varkan invites the explorers to take part in a hunt, then exhibits almost a supernatural skill in the spear throwing but puts himself in a situation that requires immediate action from Artem; Lida discerns certain changes in Artem and urges him to drink oksugala mixed with blood; the archeologist is annoyed to learn that he has missed an anthropologically important ceremony.

They were already in sight of the nomadic Scythian camp, when Dmitro Borisovich who had been talking with Varkan, stopped his horse, raised his hand to attract attention and said:

“My friends, Varkan has an exciting proposal. It seems our young people will especially appreciate this, although Ivan Semenovich and I would surely like to participate in it some way, too. Do you want to hear what it is?”

“Of course!” Artem responded immediately.

“Varkan said, give or take a word, the following: ‘Wouldn’t my young friend’ — that is you, Artem — ‘like to take part in a wild boar hunt? Yesterday some of my friends and I discovered the trail a large boar takes to get to his watering place. Skolot would be happy to treat his guests to an (excellent meal of roast boar. He told me to hunt down that boar after the guests had seen everything else they wanted to see. So, if my young friend wants to take part in the — hunt…’”

, “Am I not young enough to be invited?” Lida said somewhat piqued.

“Oh, I’m sure the invitation extends to you as well,”

Dmitro Borisovich said and turned to Varkan to verify it. Varkan began nodding his head in glad affirmation the moment he heard the archeologist’s question, and looked at the girl, his eyes radiating happy welcome, the unexpected ardor of which made Lida feel a little embarrassed.

“It seems to me that Varkan fancies Lida at least as much as our Artem does,” the archeologist said, smiling archly. “Oh, don’t blush, my dear girl, it is only natural. He’s a very courteous and hospitable man… The only thing I’m a little worried about is that it might lead, inadvertently, you know, to some… err… discord. You remember, my friends, that Hartak also tried in his manner to woo Lida, and Varkan is not entirely indifferent either. But I’ve had ample opportunity to observe that there’s another young man, a twentieth-century young man and our fellow countryman at that, who is not going to let himself to be pushed aside in this matter…”

“Dmitro Borisovich!” two voices cried out in a synchronized protest. “That’s not funny!”

“All right, all right, so it’s not. But what should I tell Varkan: do you accept his invitation?”

“Of course we do!”

“I’d be very happy to join him!”

“That leaves the two of us, Ivan Semenovich. What are we going to do? As a matter of fact, there’s another invitation from Skolot — to have a look at some of his treasures. I must tell you frankly that I’d rather see the treasures than ride through God knows where in the forest searching for that boar. I’m not much of a hunter, you know. But Skolot’s treasures must be a sight worth seeing. So, Ivan Semenovich, what’s your decision?”

“I think I’m with you,” the geologist said. “Viewing Skolot’s treasures seems to me to be a more worthwhile pastime. What about you, Lida?”

Lida was of two minds: on the one hand it would be very interesting to see the treasures, but on the other, it would be so exciting to take part in the hunt, especially after such a cordial invitation. The treasures could be looked at some other day, whereas the hunting of the kind offered by Varkan could be a unique occasion! Having made up her mind on this point, she said: