Ali and Nino by Kurban Said

Author:Kurban Said [SAID, KURBAN]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: FIC019000, FIC051000, FIC000000
ISBN: 9781590209783
Publisher: Overlook
Published: 2011-11-01T04:00:00+00:00

17

Mehmed Haidar sprang to his feet. His eyes had become quite small. ‘I’ll saddle the horses.’ He rushed out. The blood was pounding in my head, there was a drumming sound in my ears, and I felt an invisible hand beating my head with a stick. Iljas Beg’s voice came from far away: ‘Steady, Ali Khan, steady. Wait till we’ve got them.’ His narrow face was very pale. He put a belt round my waist, a straight Caucasian dagger hanging from it. ‘There,’ he said, and put a revolver into my hand, and again: ‘Steady, Ali Khan. Save your fury for the road to Mardakjany.’ Mechanically I put the weapon into my pocket. Seyd Mustafa’s pock-marked face came close to me, I saw the thick lips moving, and heard broken words: ‘I left my house to see the wise Mullah Hatshi Machsud. The tent of his wisdom stands next to the theatre. I left him at 11 o’clock. The sinful play had just ended. I saw Nino get into the car, Nachararyan with her. But the car did not start. They were talking. I did not like the look on Nachararyan’s face. I crept nearer, I listened. “No,” said Nino, “I love him.” “I love you more,” said Nachararyan, “no stone in this country will be left standing. I will save you from the claws of Asia.” “No,” said Nino, “take me home.” He started the motor. I jumped on the back. The car went to the Kipiani’s house. I could not hear what they were saying, but they were talking all the time. The car stopped at the house. Nino was crying. Suddenly Nachararyan embraced her and kissed her face. “You must not fall into the hands of these savages,” he cried, and then he whispered something, and I could only hear the end “… to my place at Mardakjany, we’ll get married in Moscow, and then we’ll go to Sweden.” I saw Nino pushing him away. Then the motor started again, and I jumped off and ran as fast as I could to …” He did not finish the sentence, or maybe I just did not hear the end. Mehmed Haidar came tearing through the door, and cried: ‘The horses are ready.’ We ran into the yard. The moon shone on the horses, standing there, stamping and neighing softly. ‘Here,’ said Mehmed Haidar. I looked at the horse and was struck numb. There stood the red-golden miracle of Karabagh, the horse of Melikov, the regiment’s Commanding Officer, one of the twelve golden horses in the whole world. Mehmed Haidar’s face was dark. ‘The Commander will go mad. No one but he ever rode this horse. It runs like the wind. Don’t spare it. You’ll catch them.’

I jumped into the saddle. My whip just grazed the wonderful animal’s flank. One enormous jump—and I was out of the barrack yard. We chased along the sea. Full of hate I kept beating the horse. Houses danced past, as sparks flew from the horse’s hooves.

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