Nader Shah. Historical novel. Yunus Oghuz

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СКАЧАТЬ are you saying, my son, throw away that sword, don’t seek death for yourself!

      Nader didn’t want to throw away the sword. Mother came nearer to him, pulled the sword and threw it to the corner of the shack:

      – Didn’t I ask you to throw away the sword? Now, we need not to fight but leave immediately. There are a lot Uzbeks in the mountains and valleys! My God, help me, if one of them comes here he will kill us! She raised her hands up and prayed the God. My God, help my poor children!

      The woman passed through the broken door and looked outside. The Uzbeks were busy with plundering. It was good that the horse of the dead Uzbek was tied to the neighbor’s gate, or after finding the dead body it wouldn’t be difficult for them to find out his murderer. Suddenly it thundered. As if the black clouds in the sky couldn’t bare the screaming, shouting, wailing and wanted to become free of pain. It began to rain hard, as if it would wash away all the pain. Rain helped the mother and her two children to run. The Uzbeks of Khorasan who wanted to escape from the rain, stopped plundering and looked for a place to hide themselves.

      Mother turned towards her children and said:

      – Be quick! Hurry up!

      The children looked round the street; there was nobody there. The rain was not going to stop. They ran along the street about fifty meters and then they turned to the left. After fifty meters there was empty land, thorns-and-shrubs. If only they reached there, they could be able to reach the mountains and hide themselves. But they didn’t have any luck. From behind, somebody was shouting at them: “Stop!”

      Mother wanted to look behind and to see who was shouting. But she lost her balance in the slippery and muddy place and fell. She wanted to stand up, but she couldn’t. Apparently, her foot was sprained. The running boys looked behind and didn’t see their mother following and they stopped.

      – Nader, I beg you, don’t stop, run!

      Mother couldn’t finish her words. The Uzbek of Khorasan appeared unexpectedly above her head and kicked her:

      – Where are you running? You won’t be able to save yourselves.

      The woman lost consciousness because of the blow. Nader looked at his brother and said:

      – Let’s return! Our mother is in trouble and that scoundrel will kill her with his kicking.

      When the children came nearer to their mother the Uzbek said to them furiously:

      – Come, bitch ones, where were you running? – He shouted.

      The children kept silence.

      – Is she your mother?

      The children nodded their heads affirming.

      The Uzbek of Khorasan faced Nader:

      – You seem older than your brother. Take this woman and drag her towards the cart. If you think about running once more I shall kill both of you. You are my slaves from this day.

      Nader lifted his mother who had lost her consciousness and whose face and clothes were covered with mud. Then he took her on his shoulder and told his brother: “Follow me!”

      The Uzbek left them behind. Though it was difficult to go in the mud and rain, Nader wasn’t tired carrying his mother. When they reached the carts in the outskirts of the hamlet the Uzbek turned to Nader and asked him:

      – Aren’t you tired?

      – The son who carries the load of the mother can never be tired.

      Nader’s answer surprised the Uzbek:

      – You look like a bright fel l ow by your clever answer. Whose son are you in Qirkhli?

      The sudden question of the Uzbek was heavier than the load on his shoulder. Nader didn’t want to show his feelings: -Now it makes no difference, our father died long ago. The Uzbek of Khorasan shouted with laughter:

      – Well, very well! It is better if my slaves are without a father.

      Nader preferred to keep silence because they had reached the carts. He placed his mother in one corner of a cart. He tied the muddy kerchief round her head. The rain was soon going to be over.

      …On a rough road the carts were going towards the city of Qayin in the province of Khorasan. The fighting Uzbeks had already galloped their horses and were not seen. There were nine or ten fighters in the carts. They were laughing and didn’t pay attention to the moaning of the captive people they had taken like plunder. They knew that no one could be able to run, because except Nader’s mother they had tied the hands and feet of all the captivated women. They didn’t need to tie the hands of Nader’s mother because of her losing conscious ness.

      Mother awoke when the cart fell on the next pot-holes. She groaned, and when she came to herself her first word was: “Where are we?”

      Nader bent to the head of his mother:

      – I understood from their talking that they are taking us to Qayin, mother!

      – Where is Ibrahim?

      – He is also here.

      – Did they beat you?

      – No, mother!

      The woman mourned noisily when the cart fell into the pot-hole again:

      – It feels as if the bitch Uzbek has broken my bones with his kicking. Nader, my son, raise me up and give your ear to me!

      Nader raised his mother and bent his ear close to her.

      – My son, don’t they know anything about your killing the Uzbek? – She asked.

      – No, they don’t know…

      – As soon as they reach Qayin, they will know without fail, -the woman moaned again. At that time no one will be able to save you from their revenge. You must run together with your brother before reaching Qayin. Then it will be too late.

      – I can’t leave you here, mother! – He whispered in the ears of his mother.

      – It is the end of my life, my son! I can’t run even I want to. My foot has been sprained; one of my bones has apparently been broken.

      – We shall be together, mother!

      Mother got angry:

      – Don’t argue with me, my son! Listen to my words! It is getting dark. Qayin is far from here. They will without fail spend the night somewhere. Darkness won’t let them come after you. Darkness loses the traces quickly. While you are running go on the right side of the road. That road will lead you to Kalat. The Shah of Avshars, Baba-ali khan lives in Kalat. Go to his palace and speak about what had happened. Baba-ali khan has always been the rescuer of us, the Avshars. If it is fated we shall meet again, if it is not fated to meet, you may revenge me with on our enemies. I am proud of you, my son!

      – Mother, but…

      Nader couldn’t finish his words.

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