LITMIR.BIZ

      … Relationship with father was screwed. But not in such a context which could be known by European. As was right and proper they were based on absolute subjection and respect by the youngest, i. e. Aslanbek, to the elder, i. e. Shamil. But Aslanbek remembered that father had taken everywhere Ahmet, his elder brother, when the last one was at his age. They went to hunting, to neighboring auls… And of what could they be silent for hours? But both understood each other without words. While speaking with Aslanbek father was like discharging duties and no more. Aslanbek felt this. Shamil didn't trust him. And didn't believe he would make good. Aslanbek was ready to die as to prove him the contrary. But he wasn't ready to subordinate for these reasons. Shamil thought that if you couldn't become a reflection of father's will you wouldn't be able to execute the will of Allah.

      While Aslanbek was gasping for a drink it seemed he thought only about how to survive. But in fact somewhere deep in his unconscious the brain was working. And absolutely unexpected some things popped to his head when he recovered himself after that three days. That were adult ideas but not such of a ten-years-old boy.

      He could die. He knew it exactly because he couldn't forget such a feeling of death which he felt unmistakably on the third day. What then?! Why somebody die being a child and others – being respected old people, wok stags? Maybe elder knew some secret how to survive? But he was sure they wouldn't give the secret away. Not for any price. Least of all to a kid. And if at last he asks wok stag Rashid? Aslanbek imagined that one laughing wisely in his beard but not answering anything…

      One more thing. Ahmet had never been hungry and thirsty for three days. But the father trusts him. And Aslanbek – not. In his spirit woke up jealousy and anger but right then Aslanbek thought he should be proud of that testing. In no case of overpassing it, but because of it happened to him. Ahmet didn't have such a fear and pain. Thank you father! Anyhow he would try to prove himself. Worse than that. For sure he would climb that mountain. And would get down without knife.

      He was thinking about all this sitting at his favorite place. All the aul got accustomed to his freak. The only his friend Salman understood him. It was a pity he didn't hear mountains moaning and breathing more clearly and heavily…

      Salman suggested him to learn shooting. He said:

      – It's time.

      Aslanbek also felt that it was about time. But from where came such insight he didn't know. Shamil wasn't surprised when had heard his desire to give him a gun. There was almost no improvised weapon for which these mountains were well-known. A great part of it came up here from northern and southern neighbors. Only noble sword-blades were forged here. Aslanbek's bazalay was a local one. Shamil brought for son an old «Makarov» gun. He handed it over and said he wouldn't teach him shooting because Aslanbek was clever and would get it himself.

      Now two friends – Aslanbek and Salman – spent time disassembling and assembling their weapons. It took some time before the boy recognized the existence and assignment of the weapon's safety lock.

      One week later after he took a gun into the hands, mountains gave back an echo of the first shoots. In this echo the boy heard something that mountains were warning of. But he couldn't make sense of these words. Wok stag Rashid always said that their mountains were more open space than a flat land. One wrong word would reflect enmity and enmity – blood. For which you should pay with blood. And he told. Once a man had been lost in the mountains. He was mortally hungry. That's why he had stolen a chicken in the strange aul. He had eaten it and survived. But the offended man found him. He knew adat very well. He had taken a sheep instead of his chicken. Not to be in debt the other one had stolen a horse. A horse in mountains was like a man. A keeper of chicken and horse had come back and killed the offender. Then a family of the killed man had destroyed the whole family of the killer. Blood vengeance – kanly. Now they say kir. All the aul in which such a disaster happened, got up as this was one folk though distantly related. Two auls had gathered. Nobody had left alive…

      Only two week passed and Aslanbek shoot from weapon in such a manner that it really seemed to be extension of his hand and mind. The boy felt some special magic which he didn't know earlier. The pointed gun was an imperative gesture. To throw stones – it was great. But shooting… All it takes is to hold a hand with gun outwards of a disliked person… one insensible motion of fingers – your willing and gesture became a death.

      For sure Aslanbek didn't have enemies whose death he could desire. But the only gesture charmed him. As well as a steel weight in his fingers.

      Aslanbek knew the meaning of most surah in Koran. But Salman passed him over. He learned Arabic. He assured it wasn't difficult. Avar was much more difficult. Prophet Mohammed told to read Koran only in Arabic. That's why Salman was reading it in the original. He often shared with the friend his ideas which visited him after they had been shooting long enough until smarting eyes and were sitting at Aslanbek's favorite hillside. During reasoning Aslanbek always heard mountain breath much better. It seemed any minute now he would distinguish words…

      On a whim he said:

      – Salman, one day you will be a mullah. No! Imamah! I don't know who. But you will be the Chief. And everybody will mind you.

      Salman thought and said:

      – I want only to know Allah. If it's necessary to be the Chief for this purpose,

Скачать книгу