Descendants of the Scythians - Страница 62

“Ah, I don’t think you’ll hit anything this time,” Artem said under his breath dodging the spear. “Now it’s me who’s got the advantage!”

The spear had missed the target completely. When Artem had jumped to the side, he had released the button on the flashlight only to press it again a moment later, once again bathing the priests in cold white light. Under slightly different circumstances, Artem would have burst into laughter: the dismayed and confused faces of the priests, quite at a loss as what they should do, were a sight indeed! But at the moment Artem did not exactly feel like laughing.

“Go ahead, throw some more!” he said. “Don’t forget to take a good aim though. I need time to dodge, after all. Diana, quiet! Lie still or else you might get hit by a spear.”

Two spears were hurled at him almost at the same time. Artem dodged one and barely escaped being hit by the other.

“Aha, so that’s what you want?” he said menacingly. “All right, you’ve asked for it.”

He stepped back and groped for the spear sticking out of the ground. Without shutting off the light, he took the flashlight into his left hand, grabbed hold of the spear with the right one, raised it into the air and hurled it at the priests.

“Take that! Shortly you’ll have another!”

The spear flew out of the darkness as though regurgitated by the earth. Artem had not taken an aim when he had hurled it, but the priests herded together into a tight group, their horses prancing but staying at one place, so it was very difficult to miss. Besides, they would have noticed the spear too late if at all. The spear hit one of the riders in the shoulder. The priests stared at the spear that had come from nowhere in great consternation, and exchanged alarmed shouts. The wounded man, having pulled the spear from his wound, turned his horse sharply around and trotted away from the peculiar cold light which hurled spears back at those who threw them!

“Here’s another one for you!” Artem cried out in a more cheerful voice now, throwing the second spear. He was not afraid of his enemies any longer.

This proved enough to turn dismay into panic; spears flying back from the darkness and hitting horses and men, the strange magician hiding behind the weird light — the priests broke down in the face of such abominations. What else did the terrible young magician have in store for them? — he who had defeated Dorbatay, who had escaped after the feast, and who was working these terrifying miracles in the night?

As though executing a command, the entire group wheeled round and galloped away. Artem could see that none of the riders even dared to look back. Leaning close to their horses’ necks, they urged their mounts on, racing away as fast as possible.

Artem burst into nervous laughter:

“Didn’t I tell Dmitro Borisovich I had a wonderful weapon!”

Artem remained where he was for some time, watching the priests make a hasty, disorderly retreat. In a moment, they disappeared over the hill. He switched off the flashlight and walked slowly back to Varkan and his men. He felt suddenly very tired, and stumbled in the high grass. The night seemed darker after the white glare of the flashlight. But soon, his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness again and he could see his horse grazing peacefully a short distance away and Varkan waiting with his men.

“Well, my friends, that’s that,” Artem said. “Did you see how they took to their heels! We’re safe now, but I don’t know for how long…”

He stopped short when he realized that the Scythians could not understand a word of what he was saying. They looked at him in awe: what he had just done was a miracle in their eyes. They had seen the eerie light and the panicky retreat of the priests, and assumed he had magical powers to make such a thing occur.

Artem leaped onto his horse.

“Let’s go,” he said with a gesture, urging them on. “If Dmitro Borisovich has not gotten lost in the forest, I’ll explain everything to you with his help. Diana, come here! Ah, my good dog, this time the enemy has been routed without your assistance, but that’s all right. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of chances for you to come to the rescue!”

Then he fell silent. The great nervous tension of the recent events must have affected him: he felt exhausted; the leg that had been wounded in the hunt was aching again.

Varkan said a few words to his men and they headed for the forest in silence. It seemed to have sprung out of darkness like something darker still. Varkan stopped his horse, put his hands to his mouth, and called the archeologist.

“Here I am, over here!” Dmitro Borisovich called back from a short distance away. He stepped from behind a tree and peered through the darkness counting the riders. Recognizing Artem, he rushed to him with open arms: My dear young friend! I’m so happy to see you safe and sound! I was so worried! I was so anxious lest you come to some harm!”

CHAPTER TWO

Ronis says the time is ripe for a rebellion, and Artem decides that he cannot possibly remain a passive observer: he must join Varkan and Ronis’s cause; Artem finds a means of communicating with Lida.

“When he saw that you had escaped, Dorbatay flew into a terrible rage. After the death of Skolot, he was convinced he had won the ultimate victory. So your escape has come to him as a tremendous blow. Besides, something else has come to pass to make Dorbatay and his rich supporters feel rather uncertain after all.”

“Why should they?”

“The people are divided into those who support him and those who are against him. You see, Dorbatay has been preparing for the final confrontation with Skolot for a long time. But on the other hand he kept putting it off, because he was afraid of Skolot as he saw that the old chieftain had still a strong hold over the Scythians. That’s why he kept his machinations secret for so long, building up support for his case. He managed to get considerable backing, and then you appeared on the scene. After his defeat at the altar, Dorbatay realized that using your magical powers, Skolot would get all the Scythians under his sway. So, the old soothsayer resolved to act without further delay. With those elders, nobles and rich men who supported him, he worked out a detailed plan which he managed to pull off almost without a hitch. Hartak was proclaimed the new chieftain but it was clear to everyone that all the power was now in the hands of Dorbatay. Dorbatay had maneuvered the elders into agreeing to this in spite of the fact that originally, some of them had been on Skolot’s side. They probably figured it was more to their advantage to have Hartak for the chieftain with Dorbatay exercising the real power instead of Skolot and Dorbatay pitted one against the other in an endless conflict, for the nobles fear the revolt that is brewing among the poor and the slaves. Besides the situation is further aggravated by the fact that Varkan has escaped, too. And there’s great power behind Varkan as well.”

“What power?”

“Wait, I’ll get to that shortly,” Ronis said with a smile. “It won’t be easy to figure out the best course of action. I can tell you that Dorbatay fears you and your possible moves against him greatly, especially now, after the spectacular escape staged by Varkan! Incidentally, the Scythians are talking about nothing but the mysterious light that magically appeared before the priests, stopped the pursuit, and hurled back the spears thrown at it by the priests, hitting a man and a horse.”

“Ah, well…” said Artem modestly after he heard the translation.

“Then, there’s your yellow panther, your big dog, that is. In other words, I’m sure that Dorbatay wouldn’t mind making peace with you, provided, of course, you agree to a reconciliation…”

“Oh no, never!” Artem exclaimed.

Ronis looked at him and understood what he had just said without having to listen to the translation: the expression on Artem’s face and the way he said it made his meaning all too clear.

“I’m not trying to convince you to do it,” Ronis said with a bitter smile. “I know from experience how little Dorbatay’s most solemn pledges are worth!”

“But we’re worried about what will become of our two friends who are in the hands of the old soothsayer,” Dmitro Borisovich said dismally and added, turning to Artem and looking him straight in the eye: “We should discuss the situation in every detail and decide upon something only after we have done so!”

Artem did not say anything in reply: the archeologist was right, of course. But on the other hand, they could not make any agreement with Dorbatay, their perfidious enemy, could they? And Ronis had also said that the old soothsayer could not be trusted! The Greek spoke again:

“At this point I don’t think your friends are in any immediate danger. Dorbatay fears retribution from you should your friends come to any harm. Besides, Hartak fancies your girl… Dorbatay will surely use this to his own advantage. It gives him additional strings to pull his puppet whatever way he wants by promising to give the girl to Hartak in marriage after he’s put the gold chieftain’s helmet on his head.”

Artem barely managed to suppress an indignant exclamation. But he lowered his head and stared at the ground.

“Your friends are being held in a kibitka with armed priests guarding them. They are not free to leave, but I can assure you that their lives are not in danger at the moment. After Dorbatay pronounced them the property of the gods, so to say, no Scythian would dare to touch a hair on their heads.”