Beginning of the path

The bright sun was high. A sizzling summer day completely came into its own, but the shaggy crowns of slender tall pines protected the travelers from the intolerable heat. The well-worn forest road was wide enough, and friends walked along its side by side, carelessly talking and dreaming about the future. It was not even possible to say that one of them had been pierced through by a crossbow bolt just three days ago.

“Listen, Stajan, what do you think to do when we collect a lot, a lot of money?” asked Gera with interest.

“If I could raise enough money, I would buy a big ship to go to sea on it,” Stajan replied dreamily.

“And why do you need a ship, especially a big one? - Vsevolod asked, shrugging his hefty shoulders in surprise.”

“Yes, Stajan, why do you need a big ship?” supported friend Gera.

“How for what? Stajan was surprised in turn. You were born and lived all your life next to the sea, but now what? Do you agree so easily to give up its salty, tart smell? From the boundless space, the cry of seagulls and the sound of the surf? We had to leave the village against our will, we were deprived of the sea, and we had already become related to it. All our ancestors lived and died to the sound of the sea. Do we have the right to refuse what Mother Nature herself bequeathed to us?”

“Well, you turned it down, Stajan, just some kind of herald! Where did you get such eloquence? If I know you, you have always been silent with us,” Vsevolod smiled and winked at Gera with a conspiratorial look. “But I still do not mind swimming in different seasons a big ship!”

“My father told me that our ancestor was an interpreter for the great Slavic prince, who lived with his people on the island of Rugen. This talkativeness was transmitted to me from him! Stajan smiled with a slight sadness.”

“Are the interpreters the ones who conduct conversations with foreign merchants?” surprised sideways at his friend, asked Gera?”

“Well, yes, my great-grandfather could speak different languages. Do you know how many merchants from all over the world came to Rugen Island? - Stajan spread his arms wide as if he wanted to show how large the crowd of visiting merchants was. - And who will interpret their conversations to the prince? How will the Grand Duke understand what they all want from him? This is where people like interpreters are needed. Not everyone can talk in all sorts of overseas dialects, help ambassadors and merchants communicate with the grand dukes.”

“Wow! People are lucky, they talk about different countries among themselves. Well, this is how many new things you can learn! – Gera drawled dreamily. - In general, I liked your idea of the ship. I would sail with you on different seas, see different overseas countries. I would see where some girls live. Are they more beautiful than our villagers? He would have wooed some overseas beauty, and then he would have married her. Children would be brought ...

“If we buy a ship, then you will be able to keep an eye on your overseas wife,” he chuckled in response to the words of his friend Stajan. “And she will wait for you, this marvelous beauty, on long nights on a distant overseas coast. And languish from loneliness and lack of male attention!”

“Long nights?” Gera asked thoughtfully.

“Yeah, and on such a distant coast that the life of a sea tramp will not soon allow you to see him. So, for sure! Your beauty will have to grieve without you for so long that I don't even know if she has enough strength to withstand such a difficult test.”

“Do you know, Stajan, I have changed my mind about getting married! I’m still living well and quietly without a wife. So why do I need extra trouble, all kinds of worries there? I'm still quite young ... And then, I will have the bulk of these beauties in every port,” for some reason, in a whisper, looking around warily, Gera said.

“Why are you whispering in the woods? Stajan also lowered his voice, looking around in bewilderment.”

“There, you see, someone is galloping here,” Gera answered soundlessly and pointed with his finger to the road going deep into the forest.

Stajan listened and heard the still faint and dull clatter of horse hooves on dry ground.

“Come on, guys, quickly go to places - and act as we agreed before!” Stajan commanded quietly.

He quickly hid in the nearby bushes. Gera, on the other hand, flew up a tree with a brisk squirrel, and Vsevolod collapsed with his entire hefty carcass across the forest road, completely blocking it. The friends froze and waited for the lonely traveler.

The frantic clatter of hooves intensified, and finally, an armed rider on a black horse, dressed in armor, with a helmet fastened to the saddle, appeared from around the bend. A white cape fluttered over the iron breastplate on the knight, on which was depicted the sign of the Livonian Order - a red cross, and under it the sword of the same color with the point down. It was for him that the Livonians received the nickname "swordsmen" among the people. The rider began to gradually slow down and, a little before reaching the man lying on the road, he stopped. He looked around warily and, just in case, reached for his helmet.

The forest was still full of silence, only occasionally interrupted by the trills of birds. The rider put on his helmet, looked around again, and carefully touched the horse's sides with his spurs. She began to slowly approach an unexpected obstacle and stopped, almost touching the hooves of a man lying on the road. He was completely motionless and showed no signs of life, although the armored man did not see his face. The horse stood, hesitantly shifting from foot to foot. The rider, through the lattice of the lowered visor, tried to examine the unknown, who, judging by his clothes, was a commoner, and first to determine whether he was alive, but he did not move. Finally, the rider took the spear strapped to the saddle and tried to poke it in the side of the peasant who was lying in the way.

Feeling pain, Vsevolod, unexpectedly for the dumbfounded rider, grabbed the spear shaft with his powerful hand and pulled it towards himself with all his might. This became a signal for the hidden friends for action, and a fishing net fell on the soldier, who suddenly let go of his spear, from somewhere above. He was not ready for such a turn of events and, like a fish, fluttered in the nets, shining with scales polished to a shine in the summer sun. Immediately Gera jumped onto the rider from the tree, and Vsevolod, who had jumped to his feet, pulled him by the leg with all his remarkable strength.

The knight flew off his horse and fell to the ground with a crash, right on his back, but, to his credit, he managed to draw out a short sword and brandished it fiercely, trying to keep the forest robbers away from him. The net, in which he initially got entangled, could not withstand the onslaught of sharp metal and began to tear to pieces, but at that moment Stajan jumped out of the bushes and, with a dexterous movement of his prison, knocked the weapon out of the knight's hands. Immediately, Vsevolod fell on the stranger with all his weight, and the armor of the defeated soldier crackled plaintively under his weight. Twitching a little more, the Livonian finally calmed down. For loyalty, the strongman hit him a couple of times with his fist on the iron helmet. There was a loud cracking sound, leaving an impressive dent on the helmet.

“Did you kill him?” Gera ran bustlingly around the friend who was sitting on the prisoner.

“Yes, no, just put it a little so that he would not flutter so much,” Vsevolod thumped embarrassedly.

“Take off his helmet, let's see who we caught,” commanded the zinger, Gera.

Vsevolod grabbed the helmet with both hands and pulled it towards himself with all his might. There was a rattle of metal, mingled with the wild scream of the defeated horseman, and his head hit the ground with a thud. The big man put his hand to the prisoner's forehead again, and his eyes rolled lifelessly.

“You will rip off his head, you goof! How will he talk to us without a head ?!” Gera screamed indignantly as if it had been ripped off his helmet.

“Why are you worried about him, as a mother?” Vsevolod grumbled. “He’s a dumb man and parabolic is not our way! How are you going to talk to him in general and what about?”

“I don’t know how or what,” Gera shrugged his shoulders, puzzled. “But one must, for example, ask where this iron miracle hides its money.”

“Why ask ?!” Vsevolod was surprised. “He has a wallet hanging on his belt. - And the strong man immediately tugged at the bag without hesitation, tearing it off the prisoner's belt by the root.”

At this time, the knight again began to show signs of life. Vsevolod got off him and stood beside him, playing with the selected purse with money in his mighty hand.

“You see that the thief does not run away!” said Gera anxiously.

“But how will he run after my caress? He's still spinning his head!” the big man grinned and, turning to Stajan, asked, “And where did you get the hang of using the prison?”

“Father taught, and father - his father. That's when their science came in handy. And I kept thinking: why do I, a fisherman, need all this? But it turns out that it is really useful to know and be able to do more!”

“Not for you, but for us,” carefully corrected Comrade Gera. “If not for your prison, this adversary would have crippled us with his sword.”

“I agree us!” accepted the amendment of his friend Stajan. “Look, and he already began to open his little eyes. He seems to be trying to remember what happened to him and where he is now.”

There was a hysterical cough, and then a mumbling. The prisoner tried to get up, but Vsevolod, without ceremony, pressed him to the ground with his foot, and then the Livonian again spoke something in his language, but more clearly.

“And what does he want to tell us?” asked Gera in bewilderment and looked at Stajan.

“He asks to return the bag of money and immediately release him, otherwise we will be punished by the Almighty and the sharp sword of the Livonian Order. But if we let him go, then we will only be graciously chopped off our heads for our barbaric actions against the noble knight of the holy order.”

“What is this? A crumpled iron scarecrow threatens us with their filthy dead idol on the cross?” Vsevolod was surprised and pressed the prisoner to the ground harder.

Again, there was an unpleasant metallic crunch, and the former gallant rider again yelled at the whole forest like catechu.

“Hush, you filthy foreigner!” Vsevolod barked and swung his hefty fist at the lying knight.

The German quickly realized that the big man's threat could be triggered much faster than he would wait for the help of his heavenly patron, and immediately fell silent.

“How do you, Stajan, can you understand in their language?” Looking back at his friend, Vsevolod asked in surprise.

“I said that my ancestor was an interpreter, and my father kept his knowledge and was able to pass it on to me. Once again, my father's science came in handy, and I kept thinking: why is he teaching me languages that no one uses in our village? And now I understand why because this knowledge can be useful to us overseas when we buy our ship. And I also understand that nothing in life just happens like that, because our gods know exactly who to give what in advance!”

“And what are we going to do with him now?” Thoughtfully looking at the prisoner quietly lying on the ground, said Gera.

“We need to see what else he has useful for us. The foreigner is carrying something valuable with him because he rode somewhere on his horse. Where did his horse go?” wrapping his head around, asked Stajan.

Gera instantly took off and disappeared around a bend in the road. Stajan and Vsevolod stayed with the knight, who for some reason began to grin badly, but the smile quickly disappeared from his face when, because of the turn, while a lively man was leading a horse trying to escape.

“No one has run away from me yet!” Gera shouted from afar and happily waved his hand to his friends.

The captive's horse walked dejectedly after its new owner, and he from time to time impatiently tugged at the bridle so that it would go faster. Even though it was a warhorse, with Gera he behaved quieter than the water below the grass. The zest knew how to communicate not only with people but also with horses.

“Here, takes the fugitive!” he shouted joyfully, leading the horse to the waiting friends.

The German, seeing his fighting friend, for whom he gave an unmeasured amount of money, turned his face distorted with anger aside from the brute looking at him and spat angrily.

“Why did he suddenly not like his horse?” Vsevolod said in surprise.

“He was seasick, probably from the long journey, and now he is scared by the poor belly. He thinks, apparently, hearty, that we will take him to our lair on it!” the zest chuckled.

“No, guys, this is something else,” Stajan said doubtfully in his voice and looked suspiciously at the prisoner lying on the ground. “Come on, Gera, take a better look at his horse! How to drink to give him something valuable to his superiors on it!”

“Now let's see what he loaded there on the poor animal!” said Gera in a satisfied voice, feeling the proximity of the prey, and began to remove the bag from the horse's rump.

Opening it, he at once shook out all the contents on the ground. Together with every little thing, a leather tube fell out with a thud. Seeing him, the prisoner tried to get up, but immediately Vsevolod's knives pinned him back to the ground, and he could only moan in displeasure.

“Why is he so worried?” the big man got interested.

“Probably, this is precisely what is important that he is lucky. So, the poor fellow is bustling about. Now let's check why he was so excited, - while looking sideways at the knight, said Stajan and held out his hand for the tube.”

Gera handed it to a friend. He carefully took the thing that had so excited the prisoner and snapped off the large brass clasp. Inside was a rolled-up paper. A wax seal hung on a silk thread, which was tied around the message itself.

“And what is written there?” asked Gera impatiently, looking over his friend's shoulder.

“We’ll find out now,” Stajan said with interest and pulled out the scroll from the tube.

Unfolding it, he plunged into reading. For a while there was silence around, occasionally interrupted by the prisoner's displeased sniffing and the snorting of a horse.

“Do you understand anything in this writing? The zinger asked impatiently.”

“Seems to be yes!” Stajan said happily and, looking at the sky, said “Thank you again, father!”

“Well, what is there? Come on, speak quickly, otherwise, I can't stand it!” said Gera and began to fiddle with his friend's elbow.

“Wait, I haven't read Latin for a long time. I will translate now.”

“So, you understand in different languages, not only in German? In our Stajan gives! Hey, big guy, it's not in vain that you and I called him a smart guy all the time!” admired Gera.

“It seems, my friends, that soon the Moscow prince will go to war in Livonia!” Taking his eyes off the report, Stajan said quietly. “So, there will be a war, guys. This is what they want to inform the master of the order.”

“Maybe our neighbors will drive this filthy little girl away! Already tired so that there is simply no urine!” Vsevolod exclaimed.

“Yeah ... And what are we going to do now?” Gera exclaimed in bewilderment.

“We will help the Slavs!” Stajan answered sharply and looked at the Livonian who was lying on the ground so that he understood everything without translation.

The captive was quiet, taking advantage of the fact that the big man, having become interested in the message, got distracted and took off his leg, began to slowly crawl closer to the bushes. But at that moment Vsevolod turned around.

“Where?!” he barked in a thunderous voice, and the knight instantly froze in place from fear.