Descendants of the Scythians - Страница 59

“Ivan Semenovich, it’s Diana! She’s broken loose!”

The barking drew nearer; there could be no mistake — it was Diana! Artem shouted at the top of his voice:

“Diana! Gome here! Diana! Come here! Poskina, poskina! Come here!”

The swords were’ lowered — poskina again? The dreaded yellow poskina?

“Come here! Diana! Poskina! Diana! Poskina!” Artem kept yelling. The barking stopped abruptly, but the crowd gave a collective groan of fear as the Scythians scattered in all directions, making way for Diana without even trying to use weapons against her. The big fawn dog dashed through the crowd like a ball of fire. She had stopped barking because she had seen her masters, and now she flashed past the dumbfounded priests in a giant leap, landing at the Artem’s feet. It took the dog no time to assess the situation as dangerous for her masters, and she rushed at the priests, growling fiercely. The dog, ignoring the swords timidly displayed by the priests, kept charging at them, and they did not even dare to raise their weapons but retreated in terror, exclaiming in tremulous voices: Poskina! Poskina!”

Ivan Semenovich said to Artem:

“So, she must have broken loose when she heard your whistle. That was an excellent idea, Artem!”

A piece of rope was still hanging from the dog’s neck.

“Our dear Diana!” Lida even clapped her hands in exultation. “She’ll save us!”

Ivan Semenovich did not say anything but shrugged his shoulders as if to say: Fm not so sure she can.

There was, in fact, little to exult over. Dorbatay, who must have foreseen the possibility of the dreaded poskina’s appearing on the scene, issued a new command; it seemed nothing could catch him unawares. The situation changed abruptly, and again, a familiar maneuver was employed: spears were lowered and thrust forward. Now Diana could not charge the Scythians who were safe behind the forest of spears. There was no alternative but for the explorers to fall back.

Artem took a quick look around. Strange, but they were no longer surrounded on all sides: a passage had opened in the wall of swords and spears, and it led to the camp. Dorbatay’s plan was clear now: to force the strangers to go down this corridor of bristling swords and spears. But what trap did he expect them to fall into at the end of it?

The spearheads moved forward, almost touching the strangers’ breasts, and step by step they began retreating along the passage. The brave dog was bringing up the rear; every few paces she stopped and growled.

It had grown quite dark, and there was no way of telling what awaited the explorers at the end of the dark passage of swords and spears.

Dorbatay commanded something in a peremptory voice; but what had he said? It was important to know, even if it was the worst possible news. Why didn’t Varkan translate the soothsayer’s commands? Where was Varkan, anyway?

Artem looked around in alarm. Varkan was not to be seen anywhere!

“Dmitro Borisovich, Varkan’s gone.”

“He was at our side just a moment ago…”

“He didn’t tell you he was leaving, did he?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“So, he’s gone off somewhere without warning us!”

“I don’t know what to say, Artem. I don’t know why he’s done it.”

Varkan’s disappearance baffled the explorers greatly. If he had been seized by the priests they would surely have noticed the commotion. So, had Varkan just run away, abandoning them to their fate? That seemed highly unlikely!

Dmitro Borisovich looked around, feeling quite at a loss.

At last, failing to locate Varkan anywhere, he said hesitantly:

“He couldn’t have just taken fright and run away…”

“No, he couldn’t,” Lida said with conviction. “Varkan would never do such a thing! Artem, do you think he could have bolted like that?”

“No, he couldn’t,” Artem said without any hesitation.

“But where in that case is he?” Ivan Semenovich asked. No one could provide them with an answer. Varkan must have chosen a moment when nobody was paying attention to make his escape. With Varkan gone, the situation seemed entirely hopeless.

Meanwhile, the strangers were being driven further and further away from the dais. The stern, bearded faces beneath the bronze and leather helmets and felt hats now looked at the strangers with great hostility. The smiling faces and friendly, curious stares which had greeted the strangers several hours earlier were all clouded with malice now. The seditious rhetoric of Dorbatay and the insidious instigations of the nobles had done their job: Aren’t these strangers directly responsible for the death of our old chieftain Skolot? They have put Skolot under their spell, thus causing the gods’ wrath to smite the chieftain. Hasn’t the sage Dorbatay explained everything beautifully? Hasn’t the sage Dorbatay spoken in behalf of the gods whose voice told him that the strangers must die? Dorbatay, who in his wisdom knew best, decided that the strangers should not be sacrificed now, and so it must be. But there is no chance for the strangers to avoid terrible retribution, because the gods are against them!

All these thoughts and emotions could be read on every Scythian face. The wall of hostility, bristling with spears, was pushing the strangers along the passage. Any attempts at resistance would be suicidal. Even for the dog, there was nothing to do but to growl and retreat. Now the sinister silence was broken only by this growling and Dorbatay’s urgings.

“Stay close together,” Ivan Semenovich said.

“They still want to tie us up!” Lida said in alarm.

“We can’t allow it! We’ll fight!” Artem exclaimed hotly.

“With what? We’ve got no weapons,” Dmitro Borisovich said.

That was a very pertinent remark: they had no weapons of any sort with them. If earlier they had had their pickaxes to defend themselves with, now their only weapon was Artem’s pocket knife. Consequently there was not much sense in what Artem had said: he was seething with rage. It was the sudden disappearance of Varkan that had affected him the most. He did not want to believe that Varkan had just run away; such an act of faint-heartedness on his part was entirely out of character. But if he had not just run for it, he should have warned them somehow… Varkan, have you already forgotten that today we became blood brothers?

“Didn’t you, Dmitro Borisovich, tell me that the ties between blood brothers are much stronger than those of real brothers?” Artem said reproachfully.

The archeologist, with a gesture of the one entirely baffled, admitted frankly:

“I’m absolutely nonplussed myself…”

“I just can’t believe Varkan has run away, leaving us to the mercy of fate!” Lida exclaimed with a challenge in her voice. “He’s not that kind of person! He couldn’t have abandoned us like this!”

Meanwhile they had come to the end of the passage between the two walls of the armed Scythians. Once they were out of the perimeter of the kibitkas surrounding the place where the feast had been held, they ceased to be the guests of Hartak; that was probably why the priests, following Dorbatay’s orders, had forced them out there. Ivan Semenovich realized that now the moment had come when the priests would feel free to put Dorbatay’s plans into action.

* * *

The fifes played an extremely high-pitched tune somewhere behind them, probably by the dais. Blazing new torches were brought. Their fitful flames fought off the darkness that pressed on all sides. Everything looked even more ominous in this flickering light which gave the scene a sinister, fairy-tale atmosphere: here and there from the darkness would appear a bearded face with jumping reflections in its hostile eyes, or a hand with a drawn bow and the arrow ready to fly from the taut bowstring, or a high felt hat of a priest… It was quite a hopeless situation — on all sides the explorers were threatened with swords and spears; the advancing priests could be glimpsed in the unsteady light, which also revealed the two Scythians with the rope who were ready to bind the strangers.

Artem was thrown into utter despair; his voice trembled when he asked the geologist:

“What are we going to do, Ivan Semenovich? What?”

He was well aware that the geologist was not in a position now to say anything, but still he wanted to hear some words of encouragement that would revive the dying hope that they would be saved.

Suddenly Diana raised her head as though listening to something and gave a short bark. Then she looked at the geologist as if expecting a command. The two priests with the rope had positioned themselves so they could go into action the moment a suitable chance presented itself.

Diana gave another short bark as though warning her master of something. Only then did the explorers hear horses approaching at a gallop and muffled shouts in the distance. A few moments later there remained no doubt that several riders were approaching at high speed; the clatter of hooves and shouts were clear, and the voices of the riders could be distinguished; one of the voices sounded very familiar…

“Varkan, Varkan!” Artem shouted at the top of his voice.

Pushing the priests aside with his snorting black horse covered in lather, Varkan broke through the circle of swords and spears; in one hand he was holding the reins of several riderless horses. More of Varkan’s young friends appeared on the scene, armed with swords, adding to the confusion by pushing the priests still further away. Discordant shouts rose from the crowd. No one had expected this momentous attack, not even Dorbatay!