Doruntine by Ismail Kadare

Author:Ismail Kadare
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: New Amsterdam Books
Published: 1988-03-20T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER V

It was a wet afternoon, drenched in a fine and steady rain, one of those afternoons when one feels that nothing could possibly happen. Stres, dressed and dozing in an armchair (what else could he do on such a day), felt his wife’s hand touch his shoulder gently.

“Stres, there are people here to see you.”

He woke with a start.

“What is it? Was I sleeping?”

“They’re asking for you,” his wife said. “It’s your deputy, and another man with him.”

“Oh? Tell them I’ll be right down.”

His aide and someone Stres didn’t know, their hair dripping, stood waiting on the porch.

“Captain,” said his deputy the moment he saw his chief, “the man who brought Doruntine back has been captured.”

Stres stood for a moment, stunned.

“How can that be?” he asked.

His deputy was astonished at the surprise evident in the face of his chief, who showed no sign of satisfaction, as if he hadn’t spent weeks trying to find the man.

“Yes, they’ve caught him at last,” he said, still not sure whether his chief had fully grasped what he was talking about.

Stres was still looking at them questioningly. In fact he had understood perfectly. What he wasn’t sure of was whether or not the news pleased him.

“But how?” he asked. “How could it happen so suddenly?”

“So suddenly?” his deputy said.

“What I mean is, it seemed so unlikely. . . .”

What in the world am I talking about? he said to himself. Then he realized what was troubling him. It seemed that his desire to find the supposed lover had coexisted with another, hidden wish: that the man would never be found. It was then that he turned his attention to the stranger, and, without quite knowing why, addressed him directly.

“But how did they catch him? And where?”

“They’re bringing him in now,” answered his deputy. “He’ll be here before nightfall. This man is the messenger who brought the news, as well as a report.”

The stranger reached into the lining of his leather tunic and took out an envelope.

“He was captured in the next county, in a place called the Inn of the Two Roberts,” the deputy said.

“The Inn of the Two Roberts?”

“Here is the re . . . re . . . report,” said the stranger, who stuttered.

Stres took it from him brusquely. Little by little the vague feeling of sadness and regret at the resolution of the mystery gave way to a first surge of cold satisfaction. He unsealed the envelope, took out the report, turned it toward the light, and began to read the lines written in a handwriting that looked like a heap of pins thrown down in anger:

We hereby dispatch to you this report on the capture of the adventurer suspected of having deceived and brought back Doruntine Vranaj. The information in this report has been taken from that which has been handed over to our authorities, along with the adventurer in question, by the authorities of the neighboring county, who captured him in their territory, in accordance with the request of our authorities.

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