Volodimir Vladko - Descendants of the Scythians

That day, in preparation for the funeral, Dorbatay staged the first act of the burial rites: three slaves were sacrificed. Acording to the sacred tradition, human victims had to be sacrificed in honor of the deceased chieftain — so three slaves, chosen as victims, were ceremoniously killed by the priests. The crowd watched the sacrifice in silence. The strangers stood within the group that made up Hart^k’s entourage. Ivan Semenovich put his arms around Lida who stood with her head buried on his chest, nervous tremors passing through her body from time to time.

The sacrifice made her sick: for at least an hour after they returned to their kibitka, she lay motionless, almost unconscious, without answering the geologist’s questions, hardly seeing or hearing anything. Finally, Ivan Semenovich decided it would be better to let her be for a while, and fell silent.

Time proved a better remedy: in an hour or so Lida regained control of herself. She heaved herself up to a sitting position on the rug, her face still deathly pale, her hands still trembling a little. Ivan Semenovich noted with satisfaction that it was possible to communicate with her again; she began reacting to things around her. But what should he talk about to help her get back to normal?

At that moment, the guards stationed outside the kibitka, raised a loud, fearful cry. Lida raised her head to listen. Then in a moment, her eyes were aglitter with joy:

“It’s Diana!” she exclaimed. “Ivan Semenovich, Diana’s coming!”

A moment later the dog’s menacing harking could be heard approaching fast. Diana must have been quite near as the frantic and frightened shouting of the Scythians increased sharply. The next moment the dog burst into the kibitka, still growling. No one had dared to stop her, just as it had happened earlier!

Diana was at Ivan Semenovich and Lida’s side in a single leap, licking their hands in her joy, jumping and trying to lick them in the face, overflowing as she was with the joy of seeing them again. Laughing, with tears in her eyes, Lida hugged the dog, calling it all the pet names she could think of.

Ivan Semenovich searched behind the dog’s collar as though he knew he would find something there, pulled out the folded piece of paper, looked at it, and archly smiling, handed it to Lida.

“Now, my dear girl, I do believe that what I’m giving you will raise your spirits,” he said. “You don’t even ask what it is, because you have already guessed. Aha, aha, it’s a letter from our Artem, isn’t it? And I’m sure it’s addressed to you personally.”

“Why are you so sure?” the girl said, flushing with embarrassment.

“Why he should have done it is beyond my comprehension,” the geologist said, chuckling. “But let’s not waste time on idle talk. Take it and read it. And after you’ve read it, retell at least the general contents to me, because I want to know how our friends are, too. And if there’s anything personal, you’re free, of course, to skip it.”

Lida went red in the face. Without replying to Ivan Semenovich’s taunting, she began reading the letter bearing evidence of haste in its uneven, nervously jumping lines.

“Very good,” Ivan Semenovich said when she had finished reading. “We must get a message to them as fast as we can. They must be reassured that we’re quite all right for the moment.”

“And there’s nothing ‘personal’ as you’ve put it, in this letter,” Lida said.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that, my dear girl,” Ivan Semenovich said matter-of-factly. “If there’s nothing in this message, there will be in the next one… But let’s get down to business. Take my notebook — here it is, and write, describing everything that’s happened to us since we got separated. There’s enough paper to give all the details, so don’t be stingy.”

Lida did not have to be encouraged in her task. A moment later, she was bent over the pad, filling the pages with her miniscule handwriting, describing everything in great detail. She had managed to squeeze quite a lot indeed into her long message, a little erratic, true, but filled implicitly with tender feelings. The letter ended thus:

I had to pause in writing this letter because, quite unexpectedly, we were visited — who do you think? — by Hartak himself; there were several slave girls with him. Hartak tries his best to look dignified in Skolot’s gold helmet, but he looks as hideous as before. The slaves brought in gold jewelry, beautiful rugs, bowls and richly adorned Scythian garments and put them in front of me. The slaves left, and Hartak pointed to all these things as if to say: this is all for you. Just imagine — that rascal giving me presents!

I was about to give him a piece of my mind, when Ivan Semenovich stopped me, saying peremptorily: ‘ Make a show of acceptance, Lida! Make believe that the things spread before you give you joy, that they’re a marvelous sight, that you’re excited to receive such magnificent gifts!’

I did what Ivan Semenovich told me to the best I could. Hartak as he was leaving seemed to be well pleased. Was that abominable! He regards me now as his future wife! The loathsome murderer, parricide, believes I have given my consent to become his wife!

But Ivan Semenovich says that everything is going — the way he sees it — according to plan. He said after Hartak was gone: lThe firmer is Hartak’s belief that you’ve agreed to be his wife, the less dangerous the situation will be for us. The most important thing for us now is to wait it out, and delay by all available means any decisive actions on their part. In the meantime, Artem and Varkan are sure to come up with something.’

And he is right, isn’t he? You’ll think of some way to set us free, won’t you?

Now, as far as Gerrhus is concerned, I think I heard this word several times when the priests were talking among themselves, but, naturally, before I read your letter I didn’t have the slightest idea what it meant. From what we can tell, the Scythians are going to start on this trip you mentioned soon.

Now that we’ve learnt of the forthcoming uprising you can’t imagine how eager Ivan Semenovich and I are to take part in it, to be free. So, Ivan Semenovich asks you to describe everything that concerns the uprising in great detail, without omitting anything. He says he must analyze the situation and even the smallest details could be of importance. As far as I am concerned, the most important thing for me is to be free! Artem, please help us!

That seems to be all for the moment. Artem, my dearest, do something quick to free us! Don’t procrastinate! I’m in a terrible depression, and there’s no one except you who can help us get us out of here! Lida.

Artem fell silent after he finished reading the letter. Dmitro Borisovich did not say anything either. Lida’s message clarified a number of things. Hartak definitely regarded Lida as his future wife, giving her expensive presents. Dorbatay, on the other hand, seemed to have forgotten about the captives’ existence for the time being, as he had plenty to keep him busy. Ronis was correct in his estimation of the situation. Dorbatay was not likely to harm the captives for the time being. And Ivan Semenovich had adopted the correct policy: to agree to everything the Scythians wanted them to do. That was all well and good, but what if Hartak wanted to have his wedding before anything could be done to stop it?

This thought made the blood rush to Artem’s head. Hartak! That revolting creature regarded Lida as his rightful property! And the girl was quite defenseless in the hands of those rogues… Ivan Semenovich would not be able to help either — an unarmed prisoner, he needed help himself… Only a decisive battle could resolve this situation, but when would it come, this decisive battle?