With the first snow of fall already lightly covering the great steppe lands, a delegation from the Slavic tribes to the west rode into the Pazyryk territory accompanied by twenty of their own armed guards. While promises earlier by their leaders had been to rage a counterattack in vengeance, the envoy now had a different message. Following Sharvur's last incursion into their lands for plunder, cooler minds by now had prevailed. The leaders of these gentler, agricultural communities sought to invite the violent and unpredictable Sharvur with his nomad counselors to their lands to discuss some form of truce between their peoples.
For Sharvur, a Scythian king, dependent upon yearly raiding parties for their sustenance—mainly foodstuffs grown from crops, crafted goods and domesticated animals as the Slavs had learned to keep—any form of agreement to not attack in the future was a futile proposition. Yet this delegation made their formal appeal, and Sharvur, seeing perhaps some opportunity of gains, was willing to go and hear what was offered to him. Zaria, learning of Sharvur's immediate departure for at least ten days, was delighted, as it would allow her time to do certain things she had only dreamed of doing of late.
As Sharvur would take the vigilant Krido with him for advice and strategy at the meeting, Zaria knew these days would be free from the oppression and control over her every movement which she had lived under within the palace for so long. To this end she had Mila, her faithful friend and confidant now, deliver a message to Tsudros that she wanted to flee the palace and be with him temporarily during this time of relaxed surveillance. As Sharvur made ready for his trip and enlisted Murka and several other generals, along with thirty warriors for security, Mila returned the following evening with the answer from Tsudros that he was willing and ready to embark with her on this temporary flight of freedom into the wilderness.
Sharvur, knowing that Branka was attending to the healing Svetlana and at the same time monitoring Moshtok's final days of recovery in his home, he assumed Zaria would be content looking out for her friends. He believed she might otherwise enjoy the quiet days in the palace alone in his absence. Little did he know that such enjoyment would involve meeting under no anxious oppression the man she now dreamed of each night alone in her stone chamber.
As Sharvur prepared to leave, he told Zaria that she would be attended by Mila and was expected to stay under the highest degree of protection within the palace at all times. Whether or not he would agree to any truce with her people, the Slavs, at this celebrated enclave involving future invasions, he still held her powers of protection confidently. He saw in her very being the highest validity of something supernatural and a secret force he truly believed in. As a final admonition, the king reminded her of the restrictive, albeit cruel terms of her conditions within his court.
Taking no stock in this mythical idea about her virginity and preservation of innocence, especially now that her close friends themselves had moved into young womanhood, Zaria was not sure what she would do if given the opportunity to break the spell while with Tsudros. Nevertheless, she also knew Sharvur was a man who would go to any lengths to maintain her status and would no doubt inspect her body at any whim if he suspected she had been corrupted. Such an inspection which did not meet with is satisfaction surely meant a termination of her life and the man who molested her as well. And it was with this knowledge and her defiance of Sharvur that she looked forward to her and Tsudros's few days of dangerous freedom in the wilds.
Once Sharvur, his advisors and soldiers rode out in tandem with the Slavic warriors to meet at a central village—at least a four day journey to the west, Mila returned from Tsudros' humble tent, reporting to her that he had packed a smaller more portable tent for their protection from the cold, some days food, and would have two horses ready for her as she was brought to him in disguise. The plan was to have her appear as a simple village girl, her head covered in the typical wrap women wore from the fall throughout the sever winter months in the region.
"He is ready for you Zaria, and tells me he will take you to a place at the foot of the mountains. It's very beautiful he claims, with running rivers and the last flowers of summer."
"He is very much the artist," Zaria told her, putting on the simple, drab garb of the Pazyryk peasants. "He has an eye for beauty and the unusual. You can see that in the tattooes I wear like no other woman. And he is like no other man I have ever known." She smiled at just the thought of him.
"Well, that eye for beauty and the unusual is why he is willing to risk his life for you, Zaria. That is clear. But do be very careful to come back in no more than a few days. Sharvur should return in ten day's time . . . but if he leaves early for any reason . . . I too will be in great danger. Especially if I were not be able to tell him where you are."
Zaria reached out and put her hand on her confidant's shoulder. "Do not worry, Mila. The soldiers protecting the palace I can handle. They are not allowed inside if I tell them to stay out."
"I know this, sweet one," Mila said. You are very good and careful with me."
"So do not worry, I will not be away long. I just need to feel how it is to be . . . free. Free with this man who only comes to me in dreams."
"Zaria, I will not tell you what to do with Tsudros," Mila replied. "You are a young woman now. But you know how Sharvur will question us both when he returns. I fear he will want to see your body. If nothing else, for any new decorations you may have had Tsudros put on you. But you know my greater fear. It is what he will be looking for if he inspects your whole body. Please consider his evil mind, and the power he holds over all of us before you do anything which could never be reversed."
"I know very well what you are saying, Mila. I will be careful. My love for you and Tsudros is strong. And I would not do something so selfish as that for all of our sake." She looked momentarily at the graceful tatooed wing the undulated down her arm. "Yet . . I do not want to live my life forever with this curse. Perhaps there will come a day when I would rather die than stay the child I still feel I am because of this."
"No one can say what our future will bring, Zaria. You have many years to live. Look at me. I have been a slave here for half my life. I never stop dreaming that one day I too will be free."
Zaria looked closely into Mila's tired face. She could imagine the once bright eyes and smooth skin of the young girl Mila had obviously been when taken into captivity. Still, her gray-blue eyes and blond hair were a bonding they had always shared, just as they were able to communicate in the Slavic tongue so much more expressively than the Scythian dialect Moshtok had taught her.
"Come now, Zaria, put on this veil and over-cloak as I will. The soldiers will not be suspicious of us leaving as workers in the palace if we go now before mid-day. They will assume we are going to fetch food from the market.
* * *
Passing out of the palace with Mila and down the dusty path to Tsudros' tent at the edge of the Pazyryk complex, the two women walked undetected by anyone. They found that Tsudros had indeed procured two able horses, though not the trained war horses the soldiers kept in the military corral. Each horse had been loaded with supplies, and when Zaria saw Tsudros up closely she immediately ran to him and pulled off her scarf. The young man's face lit up with joy and it was to Mila's eyes an emotional meeting of two souls who had been cruelly kept apart and who were now suddenly liberated to express their true feelings for each. The two embraced and kissed passionately. In that magic moment of reunion Zaria had hardly noticed that Mila had departed back to the palace, leaving her feeling like a rare bird, out of its cage, and suddenly released back into the wild.
It was early afternoon when Tsudros and Zaria, having mounted their pack horses, began to ride along a path leading up into the foothills of a greater range of mountains. The light snow was still covering the ground in patches, and as it became more a carpet of white it gave to the whole expanse of nature around them a dreamlike appearance. This only emphasized just how apart from the tent city they now were, and just how truly free Zaria now was. Soon they passed into a denser area of trees, taller, and with a lovely sound of wind blowing through them.
"I used to come here with my family when I was a boy," Tsudros told her. "My father was a great lover of animals. And we saw many here. Birds, deer . . . the larger elk . . . and a few times a family of bears."
Zaria looked at him with a bit of trepidation.
"It was always summer then. The bears are now sleeping up in the caves. She smiled at him now and was a relieved to hear this.
"There is a place not far from here that we would come to camp by the river and look for animals. It is where I learned to how draw them," he said proudly. We will go there and put up the tent."
Zaria nodded at him, still in disbelief that she was so far away from Sharvur, his palace, and the entire Pazyryk kingdom. For a nostalgic moment Zaria longed to be back in the forested areas of her own people, though having lost her parents now a full year ago, she was content to look at the man who held such a huge part of her feelings for anyone.
After another hour of riding, Tsudros brought the horses to the top of a rise in the forest. He pointed down below. There in the distance was a pristine little valley which skirted up against a small river. Pointing to this place he smiled and told her that is where they would spend the night.
Weaving down the hilltop to the valley, the sound of the river became more pronounced. Tsudros then brought them to a grassy clearing where the snow was now just small patches again and a few blossoms remained on the bushes which abounded about the place. Zaria felt the magic spot was suddenly some little home to the both of them. And stirring inside her thoughts were distant instincts of her own people who over many millennia had settled permanently on the land, built homes and villages, chose mates, married, and raised children. She could not explain these new feelings and wondered if Tsudros had them as well. Knowing that he was of nomadic blood, she thought perhaps his emotions would not be the same.
Nevertheless, it quickly made her happy when she saw him pitching their small tent there at the edge of the river. She helped him the best she could, tying the leather straps of the sheets of camel hide to the poles which he had spent great effort securing into the ground.
As the air had cooled considerably by late afternoon, and the tent was now secured, Tsudros walked up to Zaria, both of them with dirty hands and their hair blowing wildly in the wind. He put his tattooed arms around her and shielded her from the frigid breeze. He felt warm and protected in his embrace.
"I have dreamed many nights of being here . . . with you," he told her softly. "Just as we are now. We have made that dream come true."
They kissed again softly and Tsudors' heartfelt hug told Zaria he was truly moved, as she was, to share this special and extremely rare time together. For she remembered how physically charged her body was when they were last together and she had exposed herself to him, asking where her next tattoo should be placed. Those feelings were again returning to her now in spite of the cold wind and approaching darkness.
Tsudros went over to the horses and took the thick roll of blankets off them they had used as saddles.
"Here, take these inside now and arrange our bed," he told her, "I will gather wood for our fire tonight."
Entering the tent in the dim light Zaria already felt the wind subside. She saw where Tsudros had set a small circle of stones for their fireplace with the opening at the top of the tent to draw the smoke up and out. As she made a comfortable bed next to the fireplace stones, she imagined what they would be doing that night with the fire burning low and the tent warm and homelike.
After sometime, Tsudros entered the tent with an armload of dry wood of various thicknesses. He quickly went over and with a small string bow and friction stick began to saw the bow back and forth across the stick. As it moved circularly into a little hole of another piece of wood, smoke appeared. Using this fire-making friction tool of those times, Tsudros soon added on dry grasses and twigs which began to ignite. As they burned brighter he placed them in the fire ring and began feeding larger dried twigs to the flames. In no time the fire was leaping and crackling inside the tent. The bright, flickering light threw shadows of the couple onto the walls surrounding them.
Once the fire was going well, Tsudros place the largest pieces of wood he had brought in upon it and went back out to bring more. Soon he returned with some heavy pieces of dead branches for later in the night and went back out once more. This time he returned with two large pouches which had been strung across the horse's necks. He sat next to Zaria and opened the first large bag. In it was a clay container filled with herbal tea. And wrapped tightly, several types of food appeared for them—dried fruits, salted meats, and a type of flat sweet bread made of wild oats, honey and flower pedals gathered in the summer and stored for winter.
At the display of these things Zaria smiled broadly and kissed Tsudros on his cheek—just for his wonderful preparedness and general spirit of adventure. Not having eaten anything all day, the couple dined on the packed food and shared the jug of tea, while they were bathed in the yellow and orange light of the fire. During this time the tent continued to become warmer and the quiet, vast atmosphere of wilderness outside made Zaria feel alive and free as never before.
As they finished their much anticipated meal, Tsudros took one more drink of the tea and leaned over to kiss Zaria softly on the lips. She moved closer to him, pushing the remaining bag of food to the foot of the bed. In the warm firelight they kissed again, longer and with more feeling.
"I feel so free here with you, Tsudros," she whispered to him, smiling.
"You are free. Zaria," he said. "Free to let me love you. And no one is here to tell you . . . you can not."
With that Zaria untied her gray peasant garment and slipped it over her head. Next came off the finer saffron yellow blouse which had been made for her in the palace. Tsudros, too, took off his two shirts showing to her for the first time his chest, which, as beautifully as his arms, was decorated by his own tattoos—elaborate floral swirls and curvilinear designs. The patters were dizzying to look upon in their complexity and seemed to move like waves in the firelight.
He laid her back on the blanket, carefully holding himself seemingly weightless above her. With his strong arms he lowered himself gradually down to kiss her again, and it was then that she felt his warm skin against hers, causing her breath to quicken and heart to beat wildly. Tsudros kissed her neck and chest, holding her hands up, softly pinned to the blanket. Not able, or wanting to move, Zaria felt his warm mouth kiss up and down her torso, teasing her breasts with his tongue and lips.
As they finished undressing each other, something instinctive inside her told her to reach down and stroke him gently with her hand. She was thrilled by the reaction this brought to him and felt the power of her own touch upon a man. It caused Tsudros' breath and vocalizations to be alive, and of the same intensity as her own. As he began to move her legs apart and position himself on top of her to bring their final union to the climactic act, Zaria dug her finger nails into his back suddenly and whispered strongly for him to stop. She pleaded with him to not take her uncontrollably, as they both so naturally wished and had longed for.
"No. Tsudros . . . I can not now. Sharvur will know. He will inspect me when he returns. It will be the death of us both. He will see the damage to me your love will leave."
Tsudros did not stop in his kissing of her body, but he changed his position. He seemed to understand well the conditions which they were both in danger of destroying.
"Love me. . . my Tsudros. But do not leave this mark upon me."
With this, the young man began to kiss from her breasts—now rising and falling from her own strong breathing--to her hips and the inside of her thighs, which she opened further and shamelessly for him. As Tsudros moved his mouth closer and closer to that place she most felt his presence on those sleepless nights in her chamber, he began to lick and kiss there with an added concentration, causing a great, invisible wave to roll down from the nearby mountains.
The wave came crashing through trees, and swelling the river outside with an intense pleasure Zaria had never known before. It tumbled ever closer to her there in the firelight as Tsudros made his kisses now in little circles, causing her to push her body up uncontrollably to meet his mouth. Finally, when the earth began to shake terribly from the sheer power of this oncoming wave, it began to break over her so loudly and thoroughly that she could barely hear her herself calling out his name, over and over until it had fully passed. Its once presence, and now absence, left her feeling drenched by its currents and totally exhausted by its fierce and unrelenting agitation.
Zaria lay still in the now amber-colored firelight. She felt it difficult to move and only had the desire to lay her head on Tsudros' chest and sleep. Soon she was wrapped in the decorated arms of this man who had shown her something magic of life--intended for a woman, and not a mere girl.
* * *
The next morning, Tsudros and Zaria awoke under the heavy blankets, still in each others arms. The fire was only red coals and in need of building up as the sounds of a strong wind outside reminded them of where they were and what time of year it was. Despite these minor realities, they both were still reeling from a night which both of their dreams had been made of for many weeks.
As Tudros gave her a good morning kiss and moved out of the bed to put wood on the fire, Zaria asked him what was in the other bag he had brought in with the food. He smiled and after getting the fire roaring again, opened the flap-door of tent to let the morning light in. He sat next to her on the bed with both bags in front of him. As he brought out the tea from the food bag and served up another piece of sweet bread for both of them, he reached into the second bag and brought out something that made her feel even closer to the Tsudros she had met as an artist, and now cared for even more as her lover. It was a tattoo needle from his collection of tools.
"I thought maybe you would want something to remember this time we spend together by," he said.
Zaria's face lit up at the idea.
"Yes. Oh yes. On our last day together here, I want to return with something new on my body, Tsudros. Something Sharvur will not see. Perhaps he will never know of it.. Something that means in a secret way . . . we are lovers"
On the last of the three days that Zaria and Tsudros enjoyed their sojourn of freedom—along with mountains and brook, the fresh air, the sounds of the birds, and the all night sharing of their bodies, Tsudros selected a place on his living canvas to etch but one more scene to her liking. Something once again to make her unique. It was hidden away beneath the most modest of her undergarments—unseen in her daily exposure to the world. It consisted of a small and cryptic image, the importance of which no one else would ever know. And unlike the fantastic winged creature that adorned her shoulder and arm, or the dancing leopards which majestically cascaded down her beautiful back, this insignia would remain her most treasured throughout her short, exceptional life.
* * *