Volodimir Vladko - Descendants of the Scythians

“Oh, go ahead, Dmitro Borisovich, go ahead! It’s both important and interesting,” Ivan Semenovich urged the archeologist, noticing that he was sinking deep into his own reflections.

“So, Varkan tells me that his tribe has lost contacts with the Greek colonists for unknown reasons. His tribe has never come across them since those ancient times, and has never engaged in more fighting with them.”

“That is quite understandable if we remember where this trine lives now,” the geologist said. “Does he know why there’s no contacts? Have the Scythians tried to figure out the reasons?”

“Apparently they have not. Now, back to our story. The Scythians never saw any more of the Greeks, and the Greek slaves remained with the tribe. Many of them married into the Scythian families, picking up some of their customs and habits, and, naturally, passing some of their own on to the Scythians. Mutual historical influence, so to say, exchange of ideas,” added Dmitro Borisovich with a smile. “But the descendants of those captured Greeks preserved their language to a large extent and some elements of their dress. The relations between the Scythians and the Greeks grew rather friendly. Or rather they were friendly, until Dorbatay came on the scene.”

“Again that old scoundrel!” Artem cried out.

“Yes, Dorbatay caused the truce to be broken. As I’ve already told you, he went to great lengths in his attempts to establish his influence over the Scythians. Now, when the appropriate moment presented itself, he, using some religious motives, managed to sow hatred for the Greeks among the Scythians. Of course, Dorbatay was not alone in stirring up trouble — he was supported by some Scythian elders and the rich who put pressure on the rest of the tribe. Skolot evidently did not oppose the soothsayer in this matter. The rest of the Scythians fell into the trap very easily, as it is very simple to set one group of people against another by playing on their religious prejudices. It goes without saying that the majority of the Scythians do not profit by the discord in any way, but they fear their gods and do whatever Dorbatay tells them to appease those deities. The soothsayer keeps reminding the Scythians that the Greeks have been forsaken by their gods and stirs them up against the Greeks. Very shrewd, isn’t it?”

“There’s likable Skolot for you!” Artem cried out in a fit of indignation. “He’s likable only in appearance, but inside he’s as rotten as Dorbatay!”

“Ah, did you expect him to be a friend of the slaves or what?” Ivan Semenovich smiled sardonically. “Don’t forget he is Dorbatay’s brother… and it’s not their parents that matters but their social status; that is by far the most important factor.”

“But why do the slaves put up with the situation?” Artem said, still hotly. “If I were in their place…”

“They don’t put up with it, my young friend,” Dmitro Borisovich protested. “I told you already that they revolted recently, but you saw what came of it! You saw the captured slaves…”

“It’s still not clear to me why the majority of the Scythians can be so easily manipulated by Dorbatay. Why wouldn’t they side with the slaves? You said yourself that they did not profit from abusing the Greeks. Besides, they have their common enemies in Dorbatay, Skolot and the rich! I’d spell it all out to them nice and clear all right! Ask Varkan what he thinks about all that!” the young man continued pressing the subject.

The archeologist translated Artem’s guestion to Varkan. The Scythian stared at the young man and knit his brows as though pondering the question intently. Then, after a short pause, he replied, looking Artem straight in the eye. Dmitro Borisovich translated:

“Varkan says that you, Artem, have much to learn here. Maybe sometime in the future Varkan will be able to answer your question, but not now. But he wants you to know that he has many friends among the Greeks, Ronis, for example, the man Ivan Semenovich asked about. He’s one of Varkan’s closest friends. From this fact, Varkan asks you to draw certain conclusions. How things will develop you’ll see for yourself…”

Now it was Artern’s turn to think the answer over, as it was brief and seemingly ambiguous, but evidently there was a lot of meaning hidden in it. The Scythian apparently did not think it wise to give a more explicit answer. But even what he had said was revealing. Here was Varkan, a warrior of Skolot’s, enjoying the trust of the chieftain — Artem had noticed that much! At the same time, he was on friendly terms with the Greeks in spite of possible disgrace if it became known… Very, very interesting…

Nothing more was said for some time: there was quite a lot to ponder.

Artem walked over to the plates of food: it was high time to attend to it, not as an archeological necessity, as Dmitro Borisovich might regard it, but simply to get a decent meal at last. The meat smelled very appetizingly, and the bread also looked quite good; the earthen jug held aromatic fresh milk.

Artem sat down to have his meal close to the entrance, not forgetting of his duties as a guard. He fell to eating with such gusto that the rest couldn’t help doing the same. In a minute everybody was heartily partaking of the food. Varkan watched the strangers with a benevolent smile. He refused to have anything to eat when Dmitro Borisovich asked him to join them.

Only after the explorers had finished the meat and bread and begun drinking the milk did Varkan begin to speak again, Dmitro Borisovich listening again with a concentrated attention.

“My friends,” the archeologist said after a while, “Varkan says that we are not in immediate danger, at least until morning. Dorbatay’s planning a major ceremony for tomorrow, but Skolot intends to buy you from him.. He has a good chance of succeeding, since Dorbatay is greedy. Varkan thinks that Skolot is prepared to give him some jewels in exchange for your release.”

“Oh, are we just goods to be bought and sold?” Lida flared up in anger. “And isn’t Skolot — at least judging by what you said — just another version of Dorbatay? The soothsayer is very hostile to us, and the chieftain is not, but aren’t they basically the same? In the words of Artem — don’t they make a pair?”

“Lida, don’t let your emotions get the best of you,” Ivan Semenovich said. “We must think hard and decide what to do without letting emotional outbursts interfere with our reasoning. There are some things that demand our close attention. For example, Varkan mentioned his relations with… what’s his name… Ah, Ronis, isn’t it? I think I’m on the right track in figuring out what’s what…”

“So am I,” Artem put in, looking triumphantly at Lida.

“That’s good,” the geologist said. “I’m happy we share the same opinion on the matter. So, I think we should put our stakes on Skolot, or rather not even him but on…”

The geologist did not pronounce the name but looked at Varkan quite significantly. But Varkan, who did not understand a word of what was being said, was patiently waiting for the interpretation. Suddenly he shuddered with fear, his gaze riveted on Diana. She got to her feet and walked over to Ivan Semenovich, sniffing the air.

“Oh, it’s too bad we forgot about the dog! We’ve had our dinner, but what about poor Diana?” said the geologist reproachfully. He took what was left of the meat and gave it to the dog. Varkan watched the dog eat silently but suspiciously. Then he addressed himself to Dmitro Borisovich, pointing to Diana. His question made the archeologist laugh.

“No, my friend, no!” he said to Varkan in Greek. “It’s an ordinary dog, and a very good dog indeed, pure bred, devoted, even intelligent — but just a dog. There’s nothing magical or extraordinary about her, I can assure you!” Then he turned to his friends. “What a great sway superstition can have over people! Even such a bright man as Varkan cannot suppress his fear of Diana. He asked whether we’re afraid she might eat us one day. He regards our Diana as an incarnation of the sacred panther!”