Andrus Kivirähk - The Man Who Spoke Snakish

Grandfather hovered down to me. His wings were as wide as an eagle’s, and the human bones were woven together with miraculous skill. Grandfather stretched out his long nails and cut through the cords with them.

“When I saw you all bloody on the pyre, I thought you were dead and this was your funeral,” said Grandfather. “But now I understand that these rascals wanted to burn you alive. Come, boy, let’s do a little poisoning!”

He took a long knife from his belt and tossed it to me.

“Something for you to jab with,” he explained. “You don’t have proper teeth, poor child.”

He tilted back his head and howled, and then rushed to attack the villagers. I leapt down from the pile of brushwood, my heart full of joy. This was just what I had been longing for. Grandfather had arrived just at the right time. Merely holding a knife was driving me mad with excitement. I whooped with joy when I got to kill the same bulky peasant who had slapped my mouth earlier, and I rushed on to catch others.

The villagers didn’t put up resistance. They didn’t even try to fight; the arrival of my flying grandfather had caused such fear in them that they fled as fast as they could. We pursued them and ran them down in the tussocks, but while we were running after one of them, others were scurrying who knows where and it was no longer possible to find them. I searched everywhere for Elder Johannes and Peetrus, but they had vanished like a stick in water. Finally I stood panting, for all the village men had fled, and apart from Grandfather hanging in the air there wasn’t a soul to be seen.

“Not bad!” shouted Grandfather when he saw me stopping in bewilderment. “The best view is from up here. Be prepared. There are iron men riding this way!”

A moment later I could see them too. There were six iron men, in the middle of whom rode a fat man on an extremely fine horse and wearing clothes dripping with jewels, on his face a haughty, disdainful expression. This was undoubtedly some important lord, perhaps a bishop. I didn’t know. He couldn’t be the Pope at any rate, for Johannes had said that the Pope lived in the city of Rome. We weren’t very interested in who precisely he was. I went and stood in the middle of the road, knife in my hand, while Grandfather flew in a great arc up behind the iron men. They hadn’t noticed him yet, and they hadn’t wanted to notice me either; they steered their horses straight in my direction as if I were mere air through which they could calmly ride. Evidently they were hoping that I would humbly step aside, but I didn’t, and I met the enraged gaze of the mighty lord. He had noticed me, screwed up his face angrily, and made a movement with his arm as if to wipe me out of the way like rubbish or a fly. One knight drew a sword from his belt.

Then I hissed — and the horses started to break their stride. Two knights fell right out of the saddle. The others managed to remain on their horses’ backs, but that was their misfortune, for then it was much simpler for Grandfather to strike them on the head with his ax. He came whirling and howling like that ancient bird whose picture I had seen in the Primates’ cave. Twice he struck with the ax, and two iron heads rolled along the ground. He turned right around, and set off again. Meanwhile, I stabbed to death the two knights who had tumbled from the saddle.

The only one left alive was that proud lord in his costly garb. His expression was no longer lofty or scornful at all; now he stared in sheer amazement at the extraordinary winged monster of whose existence he had never heard. This monster looked truly horrifying, with wings made of bones, as well as a long gray beard and two aged, blood-red eyes, sharp crooked claws like a bird’s, and unnaturally short legs, actually mere stumps. This must have been a ghastly, unearthly sight in everyone’s eyes but mine, for whom this monster was my earthly grandfather.

I stepped up to the proud lord and killed him. Grandfather flew to a nearby tree and perched on a branch of it. Now he looked even more like a bird.

“All of them!” he said with satisfaction. “Pretty good for a start. Oh, my boy, how long I’ve waited for this day!”

“What kept you so long?” I asked. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming after all.”

“I couldn’t get those last bones I needed from anywhere!” shouted Grandfather. “It was terrible! After you left, not a single person came to my island. I lay in wait for days on end by the seashore, but not a single ship came. The months passed; a whole year went by. I thought I would go mad. I had these wings nearly ready. You had brought me the windbag, and yet I couldn’t get going. There were animals on the island, but their bones weren’t right, although I did try for a few weeks with deer and goats. Nothing came of it. You know, boy, I tell you honestly so please don’t take offense, but if you and your girl had come upon me at that moment, I would have killed you and put your bones to use. So what if you’re my grandson and dear to me. I was completely blind; I was even thinking of ripping a bone of my own from my side and putting it on the wings, but there was nothing to take. In the end I wasn’t even eating or drinking; I was just sitting like a rock on the shore, staring at the sea. Ten days ago I finally saw, far out at sea, one ship, but it wasn’t sailing toward my island at all, but in the other direction. I jumped into the water, swam like mad, and caught up with the ship. I hauled myself aboard and killed the whole crew, crawling around like a crab, with a long knife in each hand. But then there was a new problem. How to steer the ship to the island? I was alone! Yes, I fumbled around and rowed and tried every trick, but still it took a whole week before I got home. Then I needed another couple of days to clean the bones and finish off the wings. My hands were shaking as I put those little bones in place. You know I had a sort of feeling, like a man who’s been starving for a long time, when finally a decent hunk of meat is put in front of him. Tears of joy came into my eyes. Finally the wings were ready. I tied the windbag on to them and took off. I screeched with joy and slaughtered a couple of seagulls just for the hell of it. I flew straight here and found you on the pyre. Why did they want to burn you?”

“They thought I was a werewolf,” I replied. “A person who can change into a wolf.”

“Why would a being in their right mind change into a wolf?” wondered Grandfather. “That would be stupid. I certainly don’t want to be ridden on or milked.”

He laughed resoundingly.

“Not that you could squeeze any milk out of me!” he roared. “What isn’t there isn’t there! I’m not a wolf, but a proper human, and I’ll carry on raging so the ground is black!”

He looked at me inquiringly.

“Are you coming with me?” he asked. “Are we going off to fight, as we’ve been doing? Or are you stuck to your woman and prefer to sit at home?”

“I have no one to be stuck to,” I said.

“Ah — that girl who came visiting me with you? Hiie, or what was her name? Didn’t you take her after all? She was pretty.”

“She was, Grandfather,” I replied. “But she’s dead.”

Grandfather hummed.

“Oh, I see,” he said. “Well, now … A pity of course, but at least you’re free and you can do what you want. Are you coming with me? Of course, first we have to go home and say hello to your mother, my daughter. We can’t put that off, because who knows what the future may bring.”

“Mother is dead too,” I said. “Just about everybody is dead, so let’s go right away, Grandfather. There’s no point in waiting.”

Grandfather stared at me.

“She’s dead too …” he repeated. “While I’ve been sitting on my island, you’ve been living your whole lives through. Well, what’s left to me but to get even. Let’s go, boy. We’re in a real hurry!”