As the days passed into months, the two couples of mixed ethnicity used every opportunity to integrate into the Wahlesh village society. Tsudros and Moshtok went out of their ways to show their new hosts that they were worthy of citizenship in their new land. And aside from some harsh prejudicial remarks at times about their race and peoples in the East, they were making friends and convincing their neighbors that the two were indeed decent men.

This entailed their participation in the communal fieldwork, tending to the crops of wheat and vegetables the Slavic people cultivated. They were allowed to produce foodstuffs for themselves, but also by the town's rules, like everyone, had to provide a certain portion of their harvest for the community at large. But they also contributed in other ways to the betterment of the town. Tsudros was learning the faster and more efficient weaving techniques of the Slavic people. Combining these methods with his own phenomenal imaginative mind for designs and patterns, he was becoming well-known in the village as an artisan. He specialized in his personally designed garments and accessories such as bags, hooded coats and blankets. And there was no better advertisement of his abilities for patterns and design than his own tattooed body and his lovely ornamentation partially visible on the woman for whom he had undoubtedly professed his total love—Zaria.

Moshtok, too, had made an early impression on the villagers for his facility with their own language and the fact that he was known as once being abducted by their own people in a fit of revenge for past raids upon their Slavic citizens. His knowledge of the Scythian tongue, with its various dialects, including the strange Amazon variety, made him valuable to the town elders. Both women, Zaria and Branka, had done a heroic job of bringing their adored men in favorably to their respective family clans, and there seemed to be developing a greater sense of tolerance of the townsfolk for their lineage—an attitude that their forward-thinking archon of the village, along with his loyal elders, supported.

All the while the two small households of the couples were developing and becoming more domestically comfortable, there would come to visit members the clan of Svetlana, and in particular her aggressive and now virile brother, Andrik. He and his family continually asked about their beloved Svetlana and anything they could tell them of her life so far away. They simply could not come to grips with the fact that she had chosen to stay in a different land and among those whom most still considered a perennial enemy of their people.

Svetlana's brother found it difficult to understand why the couples had left his sister behind when escaping themselves. Though they continued to tell him it was her choice, as she had been happily living with a good man and was expecting a child with him when they left, in their hearts they too struggled with that sad revelation about her they had learned on their travels. This was that the kingdom of the Pazyryk was again in the cruel hands of Sharvur, a pathetic and maimed character whom they were all even surprised to learn was yet alive.

It was for this reason that a certain excitement had gripped the village when a party of deer hunters returned to the village one evening. They reported to the Archon and elders of the town that a party of some fifteen Pazyryk warriors were camped in the foothills not far from Wahlesh. While the order was given to prepare the village for a possible siege, Andrik came to Zaria and Branka with an additional plan. Knowing only that his sister had chosen to stay in the East with a man she had fallen love with, and was living with him and their new child,  Andrik believed the Pazyryk soldiers might know something of her condition and  present situation. This plan involved Moshtok and Tsudros riding out to meet their Pazyryk countrymen in the wilds and to speak with them. Any information they could gain about an attack or Andrik's sister Svetlana would be valuable, both to the brother and his clan, as well as to  the village as a whole.

Word of such an action reached the Archon and the leader sanctioned it as a viable way to get information about the raiding party's intentions. Moshtok and Tsudros had little choice but to accept the mission, as it would also serve to further cement their position within the good graces of their new society. That afternoon plans were laid out and supplies provided for their departure in the morning. One of the hunters would lead them out to the warriors outpost and then for his own protection, return.

While Zaria and Branka were against the risks this mission put their men under, they also felt the pain of Svetlana's clan. And this would certainly help to alleviate the guilt they had felt since returning without her. It would also shed new light on conditions within the kingdom leading to a better understanding of Svetlana's and her new child's security. In the back of all of their minds they were aware that Andrik was of a strong desire to attempt a rescue of Svetlana, no matter how severe the risks.

* * *

That next morning, as planned, three horsemen left the village of Wahlesh in the direction of the eastern mountains. The guide, who had only returned from the region with his comrades the day before, led Moshtok and Tsudros toward the soldier's last camp. Once in the vicinity, they had to track them for another half day to find they had fortunately moved in an opposite direction of Wahlesh, perhaps suggesting a Pazyryk raid some other village of Slavs in the region.

By late afternoon of the second day, Tsudros and Moshtok could see the smoke from the fire of the raiders' camp and rode to intercept it. Their plan was to enter into the presence of the men in plain sight and in a non-threatening way—appealing to a recognition of their language in greeting. This was attempted just before dark.

"Good evening! Countrymen! We come in peace!"

The men who had been preparing their camp for the night, suddenly took to their arms and a defensive stance.

"We are Pazyryk. . . like yourselves!"  Moshtok further called out.

As the two innocent-looking men rode forward and into view, the warriors began to peruse the strangers' clothing and horses. This combination did not provide a satisfying image that these men were who they said they were.

Tsudros spoke out in a calm voice.

"We come to you in peace, warriors. We travel in passing . . . and can see and hear that you are of our former lands."

One of the older leather-clad soldiers stepped out of the group's formation of defense and spoke.

"Your language tells us what you say. But your dress shouts out loudly of Slavs. What can we believe?"

The leader's men did not relax their bows and swords.

"We only come to talk," Moshtok continued. "We are curious about our kingdom. We wish to know  conditions there."

The commander, seeing the two men had not a menacing stance and harbored their bows slung over their shoulders, decidedly gave the signal for his men to allow them to enter the camp. Upon their moving forward hesitantly, he also gave a hand signal which defused the tense situation and brought to rest the soldiers' weapons.

"Come," said their leader. "You shall be safe among us. Come here and let us all relax. To share some tea before the fire tonight."

Tsudros and Moshtok dismounted and led their horses to the nearest tree, then tethered them. The soldiers went about their business of making ready their sleeping area for the night. It was now early fall and though the air was crisp, there was no sign of heavy weather. A single blanket used as saddles was enough to cover each man as they spread their bedding around the now bright and raging fire.

The leader of the men greeted the two with a customary hand on their shoulder and a nod. He then led them over to the edge of the glowing flames to sit while preparations were underway for the strong herbal tea to warm them internally against the elements.

Tsudros and Moshtok took note that these men looked thin and haggard from their expedition. They had forgotten the empty and gaunt look of soldiers on these long and austere journeys.

"When did you leave the kingdom," the officer asked the two while pouring out the tea into clay vessels.

"We left when Sharvur had been imprisoned and the two generals were in charge," Tsudros told him.

"A third had been killed . . .and it looked as though the kingdom would fall into chaos," Moshtok added. "We decided to leave our fatherland rather than see it fall before us."

"Yes. Well much has happened since then, my friends," said the general, gingerly sipping the hot, aromatic drink. "Sharvur was brought back to power by his sympathizers. They let him out of his cell and he had both generals executed before the whole nation. He has begun a reign of terror . . . killing anyone who is rumored to disagree with him."

Both men hung their heads, for on their journey they had already heard of Svetlana's return to the palace.

 "Sharvur rules  again. . . but each day there is an attempt to depose him. And for this, more executions result. Many of his former officers and the best of us have been killed by his madness."

Moshtok's and Tsudros' eyes met silently in the yellow light of the fire.

"Do you know . . . the general, Murka?" Moshtok asked.

"Yes. He is a good man, but was possibly killed with six others of Sharvur's elite generals. All were men who had once been loyal to him. I can not say if he was murdered or is in hiding."

Again the two shared an expressionless glance in the firelight.

"Did you ever hear what happened to his woman . . . and new child?" Tsudros asked casually.

"Yes. They live now in the king's rock citadel . . . both imprisoned. He keeps this woman they call Svetlana . . . a Slav . . . for his personal mistress. The young girl is allowed to live on with her, only as payment. for what she offers to the king."

Both Tsudros and Moshtok felt their hearts sink upon hearing once again of their beautiful friend's turn of fate.

"We are out on expedition to bring back what we can to Sharvur," the general went on. "As the king's supplies of slaves and goods are low. The kingdom is not expected to last. There is talk of a greater coup soon. We are lucky to be out of the territory now, as there can be little suspicions on us here in the West."

Both men nodded.

"There will certainly be a takeover once again from this madman," the general concluded. "You are both best to be out of the Pazyryk society these months. Life is too unpredictable there now. And many of us  hope Sharvur will be deposed or dead by the time we return. We all fear for our families. I cannot say more to you of this . . . lest I be subject to insurrection myself and tortured as a traitor."

Tsudros and Moshtok nodded once more to their hosts in sympathy. Both to him and his men's unfortunate plight. Following their tea and some discussion of the geography of where they were, the commander told the two he would continue eastward toward home. While en route, he told them, he would make a night raid on one of the Slavic villages further to the east to take domesticated animals, grain and women slaves back to the Pazyryk kingdom. For that was his orders from Sharvur. He expressed they had no choice but to succeed in this before ever being allowed to return home.

Rather than risking any change of heart on the part of the commander or his desperate men, the two visitors decided to leave the camp that very night and ride back toward Wahlesh in the starlight. For, besides knowing their way, they also knew too well the capriciousness of their race as nomads, and how such severe hardships of the times could motivate them to Barbarism.

While at a great distance from the raiding party's campsite, the two men once again tethered their horses in the early morning darkness, and refraining from building a tell-tale fire, they slept out the cool night under separate thick, and ornate blankets—currently the trademark of Tsudros, the tattoo artist.

* * *