Troens Ridder
A brilliantly sunny noon in midsummer on the dusty road on white thoroughbred stallion, rode a beautiful young knight in a scarlet cloak, carelessly thrown on top of the coated dents from many strikes, dimly gleaming armor. From under heavy helmet on a strong neck and a tanned forehead extorted strands of black as pitch, hair. From time to time he stopped, crawled slowly out of the saddle and keeping his hand over the left side, as if he had hurt the heart, fell down and carefully scrutinized the prints of horseshoes on the road. Having found, apparently, he was looking for, it is a visible effort perch on his horse and rode on, looking straight ahead with sad green eyes flecked with amber round black pupils.
When the sun shone in the distance the dome of the city, on the face of the young men there was some recovery, even he spurred his horse, but soon moved again to a slow pace because of the opened wound in his side. From tied to the saddle, he cut a piece of felt and felt carelessly plugged them cut in the armor, where oozing blood, low voice whispered a curse.
When he finally got to the city gate, he was like a dead man. He barely had the strength to lift his hand and hit his fist in the copper-bound oak gates.
Some time later, one of the doors opened and the huge growth of the guard, holding a drawn sword, not too affably asked:
- What are you looking for here?
- Justice ... - almost inaudibly replied the young man.
- There is no justice - just a whim of the Master.
- I need to see him …
- As if you alone, - he sneered the guard.
- Give me a sign …
- I did not put in order here, so anyone who only wish could enter here. Fight with me, and if you win - you will enter.
- I'm dying…
- What business have you to master?
- Zirin …
- Master is not interested neither gold nor the fact that you can buy for him.
- I have no gold ... My city looted, and all that was in it more or less valuable, taken out of your people …
- What are you going to pay the ransom?
- I've got nothing left, except for life …
- And what Master your life? - He sneered the guard. - The more that you and so is about to die.
- Who knows, maybe you'll die first! - Angrily exclaimed the young man, and snatched from its sheath short sword, swung it at the guard gate. Gatekeeper backed away, tripped on a stone and fell down, and, taking advantage of his inadvertent misstep, the young man with all the swiftness of which he was capable, rushed into the half-open gate. However, beyond the fortress walls of his four guards waited. The young man entered with them into battle and managed to kill three before the mighty gatekeeper parried the shot with his sword and threw his retaliation to his feet. He tried to sit up, but the white light faded in his eyes and groaned softly, he lost consciousness …
When he awoke from the slumber, he found himself a prisoner in a large luxurious room. He tried to straighten up, but standing on the sides of the guards twisted his arms and once again forced to take belittling posture.
- Remove from the shackles of his - he commanded the man sits on a throne with an intelligent, powerful and proud expression handsome face and, turning to the prisoner, he said. - Who are you, fool? And why are you here?
- And you have to ask the murderer ?! - A trembling voice cried from hate boy. - My city was treacherously captured, all the inhabitants killed, and all values are taken! You have the nerve to ask me why I'm here? I want to know what you did wrong women, children and the elderly! Is the blood and tears of the people so mean little to you that you are commanded to destroy several thousand people only in order to get hold of those pathetic treasures, which they had ?! Is that a little that we had, cost so much ?!
- You're wrong, Knight. My soldiers do not commit robbery raids, - said Khan and tenderly looking at the dazzling beautiful girl sitting at the right hand of him, he added. - By the beauty of my daughter, this is the case.
The boy went deathly pale and shaken.
- So, the blood of your people has been spilled in vain?
- Blood is shed in vain anyway. Is, to kill the enemy, you have raised their dead? But I'm willing to forget about the blood spilled, if you agree to do me service.
- Better to die.
- Believe me, knight, death is never too late - a good-natured grin Khan. - Are not you so deaf that you can not hear the voice of blood, which imperiously commanded you to live, no matter what? It is the voice of all who lived before you. What right have you to deprive them of hope for immortality? For mortal man, but his family is immortal. You - the last of its kind, and with thy death interrupted the connection between generations. It is to have lived, fought and died your ancestors that you cowardly betrayed the memory of them is forgotten in the centuries?
- King, I remember their duty to the ancestors, and I will perform it until the end, but in the land of their fathers.
- What are you in your land, Knight? Or is it the river streams of molten silver? Or planted her gold fields? Or wine spilled it rains?
- Do not molten silver streaming its river - streaming blood they killed my relatives. And it is not gold planted fields - they planted the bones of my comrades died. And no wine poured it rains - they spilled tears of widows and orphans. But this - is my land. I know that there is light at the earth richer and more beautiful, the climate is milder and more gracious, more fertile and rich soil, but no land beloved and relatives. No man chooses himself the fatherland, if not the mother chooses. Let it is harsh and unfriendly, miserable and sick, poor and ugly, even dismayed cares and sorrows, let frowns frequently than smiles, but she - the mother, and the other will not be like no other country. In the left edge of the graves of my ancestors, so I'll go back.
- Knight, you're beautiful and powerful, like a hero of ancient legends. Do not you watch a person abandoned tombs. Your way lies to the deeds and glory. WISH - and most beautiful, most notably the girl of my country, I will give thee a wife, I give the best horses and servants, and gold without counting, just stay!
- Thank you, O king, with the flattering words, but I ask - not captive. My heart remains there, nor love, nor wealth nor fame, nor power will not replace my darling ashes.
- You are strong and brave warrior, and could bring substantial benefit to me, but I will not be your captivity. When you get well, I'll let you go in peace, and yet - be my guest.
- Father, the one you call a strong and brave warrior, in fact - the girl, - said quietly beautiful, in the course of the conversation without taking his prisoner beautiful black eyes.
Khan furrowed his thick eyebrows and threw a searching glance at the prisoner.
- What do you say to it, Knight?
For the first time during the conversation, the prisoner cheeks were covered with faint blush, and, lowering his eyes dale, he said shyly:
- I will say this, O king, that your daughter is as insightful as it is beautiful.
- Tell us about yourself - gently asked Khan's daughter.
- My name is Tanais, and my father was the king of the Sarmatians. My mother died in childbirth, and he loved her so much that did not want to marry again, and I was an only child. I had to eventually take the throne, and so his father raised me like a son. I learned to ride a horse, shoot a bow and fight, and in sixteen years was not inferior to the best soldiers of the father of any force, any skill, any martial art ... You know the rest …
Captive staggered and fell to the floor simply because guards caught her by the arms.
- What with her? - I asked the doctor from Khan, a worried look bent over the girl.
- Only a faint, my lord. She needs complete rest.
When Tanais was carried out of the throne room, the Khan's daughter tenderly hugged his father around the neck and caressing him, asked:
- Let me take care of her.
- Excellent idea, Aletheia, - after a short hesitation Khan said, kissing her daughter's chin. - And after recovery, I'll take her as his wife.