“Isn’t it great to have a smoke to relax a bit!”
An unprecedented hush fell over the pinkish-yellow field. The crowd froze into absolute immobility — not a word, not a movement. Even the chieftain gaped, looking at Artem inhaling and exhaling smoke. Artem released a thin jet of smoke and said:
“Why have they grown so quiet, Diana? Haven’t they ever seen anyone smoke before?”
Little by little, the talking resumed. The Scythians began to gesticulate excitedly, pointing at the young man by the altar with the smoke coming out of his mouth. It was the strangest thing they had seen that day. The priestesses had meanwhile stealthily crept away from the altar and disappeared into the crowd: they apparently considered it safer to keep as far as possible from the young man who was not afraid even of the terrible curses of the soothsayer, and who himself was conjuring up unseen tricks. The old soothsayer, who had probably never seen anything like it either, was also slinking away.
At last, Artem threw the cigarette butt to the ground and stamped on it, saying to the captives:-
“Why are you standing here? Go back to your crowd. The show’s over.”
He even pushed them gently toward the crowd of captives. They began retreating slowly and timidly, never turning their backs on the young man. Artem shook his head, saying compassionately:
“My, how scared they are, poor things!”
Then he turned and began walking back to his friends. Diana ran by his side. Wherever he passed, the Scythians fell silent, looking at him with respect and fear, waiting for the smoke to come from his mouth again.
“Well, that’s how things turned out,” Artem said as he came up to his friends, trying to hide his increasing embarrassment. He had failed to obey the explicit command of Ivan Semenovich, rushing as he did to the altar, endangering them all. “Ivan Semenovich, upon my word, I couldn’t help it…” There was some trepidation in his voice as though he were apologizing.
“All right, all right, Arlem. We’ll speak about it later. Let’s see what happens next,” the geologist said unexpectedly complacently.
But what was the matter with Lida? Her eyes were wet; she seemed to be on the verge of tears. Very strange!
“I was so worried about you, Artem, dear,” she said softly.
Surprisingly enough, Artem did not know what to say in response. He grabbed Lida’s small hand instead and squeezed it passionately. Dmitro Borisovich took his other hand and shook it, saying solemnly:
“My dear young friend, you are a real man! I… I congratulate you!” His pointed beard shook with excitement.
Now Artem was completely baffled. What had he done that merited congratulations and concern? Even Ivan Semenovich was not angry with him and did not rebuke him, which was good in itself.
“Attention, my friends!” the geologist said suddenly. “The old chieftain is talking about us.”
The chieftain was indeed saying something, pointing to the explorers. Then he beckoned the old soothsayer to come nearer. The soothsayer did so, boiling with anger, though trying to conceal it. Their conversation did not last long. It was the chieftain who did most of the talking, while the soothsayer listened* with growing annoyance. He even tried to contradict the mounted man once, but the chieftain raised his voice. The soothsayer bent his head submissively, rolling his beady eyes, clenching his fists in impotent fury.
“What a repulsive creature he is!” Lida said under her breath, noticing that Artem was looking at the soothsayer.
The young Scythian who had stepped forward to greet the old chieftain did not take his eyes off Lida, which made Artem angry. The misshapen Scythian seemed to feel he was being stared at; he gave a quick sidelong glance, saw the suspicious gaze of Artem and immediately turned away; their eyes crossed only for a moment, but it was enough to catch the hostility which filled his stare.
Who is that guy? Artem thought. He’s no just anybody because he’s dressed so richly… there’s so many shiny little gold things all over his garb… And he’s holding himself more confidently than the rest whenever the old chieftain is not looking at him, of course.
Meanwhile the conversation between the chieftain and the soothsayer ended. The soothsayer bowed low and walked off. Artem observed him attentively, not liking his cunning, scowling face. Passing by the stoop-shouldered young Scythian, the old soothsayer made a slight movement with his head. The young Scythian responded with the quick, darting glance and immediately lowered his eyes submissively.
“Aha, there’s something fishy here,” Artem remarked. “He’s got to be watched.”
But truth to tell, he forgot about his observations a moment later when he saw a more modestly dressed Scythian with only one gold badge on his helmet, approach the chieftain. Another Scythian moved behind him, his appearance differing from the rest — his face was swarthy and beardless; he was quiet and unconstrained. The chieftain addressed himself to the young Scythian with the gold badge on the helmet. Surprisingly enough, his stern voice was much warmer now; he was speaking in a friendly tone, even gently. After the chieftain had finished, the young Scythian bowed, then turned and said a few words to the beardless man behind him; afterwards, the two of them walked over to the captives. The beardless man began speaking to the captives like their superior, not someone alien. He seemed to be reassuring them.
It was at this point that an unexpected and important event took place.
“My friends, I… err… I seem to understand some of what is being said by that man with the swarthy complexion…” Dmitro Borisovich said in excitement. The three explorers turned to look at him in surprise. “Yes, without any doubt, I can make out something! Not everything, of course, but… It’s ancient Greek the way one would expect it to sound, but mixed heavily with some other language, exactly the way the parchment was!”
“Oh! You understand him? What’s he saying?”
“Yes, yes, I do. Don’t distract me! He says that they are forgiven for their escape…”
“What escape? Did they attempt an escape?”
“Oh, do keep quiet! They are pardoned for their attempted escape, and will be allowed to go on working as before… ah, what a pity I don’t understand all of what’s being said! Now he is comforting them… Isn’t it extraordinary that we will be able to communicate with them! Now he says that…”
But Dmitro Borisovich did not have the chance to find out what was being said as the chieftain turned to the explorers.
He did not say anything this time but made such an eloquent gesture inviting them to follow that it was impossible not to understand. Then the chieftain jerked the reins and his horse stepped forward.
“He invites us to follow him,” Artem interpreted the gesture. “What shall we do, Ivan Semenovich?”
“We’ll follow him, but we must control ourselves, no matter what. Do you understand, Artem?” Ivan Semenovich said emphatically.
“I give you my word of honor, Ivan Semenovich. I’ll do my best!”
Surrounded by the riders, the explorers were now following the old chieftain on foot. The circle of armed men around them made them feel annoyed and constrained. The riders did not show any signs of hostility toward the explorers, and yet the latter could not help feeling that they were captives.
“The stoop-shouldered guy is coming with us, too,” Artem said. “And he’s staring at you all the time, Lida. Do you see?”
“That one, you mean? What a horrid creature he is!”
“But he seems to like you very much. He’s not taking eyes off you!”
“Oh, come off it! And don’t tell me anything else about him, because every time I look at him, it gives me creeps. He’s so repulsive and slimy!”
But a half-minute later Lida couldn’t resist casting a glance at the misshapen Scythian to see if he was still staring at her. He was indeed, and was even smiling at her! But even his smile was lopsided, as though he was smiling with only half of his face.