Tir opened his heavy eyelids. Catch sight of the yellow area sand. Grains of sand rustling of wind gusts, poppy seed fell on the body. Tyr looked up. Razor sharp pain ran into the brain, a swarm of sand suddenly shot up and gently touched his forehead. Tir delayed fall. Consciousness is no longer left him. Holding back, not to moan from harsh and unbearable pain in the neck, Tir, with effort, forced himself to lie on his right side. Then rose to his elbow. The area of sand now increased. View opened next dunes. Tyr looked around on all sides. Everywhere he was surrounded by a yellowish sediment. The sand was everywhere. Half-buried body of Tir was stirring on top of a small sand dune at the edge of the sloping slope, amidst a sea of giant hills of the desert. Tyr tried to get up, but there also has slid down to the bottom of the basin. Swaying from side to side as he tried to get up again. With difficulty he succeeded. Standing on his feet, he gradually came to himself. And when the forces returned to the weakened body, Tir discovered that there are no clothes except a loincloth from a piece of silk cloth tied Snort ling rough knot around his waist. He decided to climb to the top, where a small bobbin rustling sand raised by the wind. Became treacherous climb the slope of loose, leaving deep furrows of the arms and legs. But each time to the top left halfway, he was suddenly pulled down. Inexplicable fatigue thirst poured into every muscle, and Tir, utterly exhausted, sat down on the hot sand, waiting for the inevitable end. The rustle of sand, the wind howling at the top, now merged into Chant of a single fatality.
Tir heard singing, no matter succumbing to death waiting. Desert Song continued with each passing minute, getting louder and more intense. Tir suddenly felt the desire was retreat somewhere in memory, fatigue stretched behind him. This went on for a good elbow the way the shadows of the head of Tir, which moved along the sand. Tiredness suddenly gone, it seemed forever, giving way to desperately thirst for life. Tir furious on his feet. Feeling the rush of vitality,
He frantically rushed to the dune. No strength in it at the sand ridge. But the desert was too late. This time, Tir collapsed without feeling on top. When he came to, the sun was already concerned
horizon, fairly losing his hot light. In the evening it looked like the rays of Tir pathetic creature of nature. Dirty piece gray fabric a little touch of the body hanging on the hips. Those who are sentenced Prince Lakiya to a slow death of hell sands, took care of it, leaving nothing to wear.
Tir meanwhile touched myself, the skin does not have time to burn, said in a recent sunburn, abrasions and wounds were not. Only his head ached. Darkness was aching, reducible, a strong blow fell on her. To drive away the pain, Tir untied the knot, took off the bandage from the hips, then carefully wrapped the cloth head. From this head began to hurt less, and dried blood on the top of the head support is now not only the hair. This done, he began to look for the causes of what happened in concentration. Whined softly wind rustling grain on the tops of the dunes.
The sun has almost disappeared behind a solid line undulating sand. Day waning. In the air, there were the first signs of coolness coming with the setting sun. Howl disappeared a little sigh of wind
nearly fumbled the dirty mop of hair, stray from the bandage on his head and shoulders heaped grain, like salt. His head in his hands. Tir sat on the sand. Calm gradually
back to him. Finally, he drew attention to the bruise. His fingers gently groped clotted blood clot under the fabric, solid lump His fingers gently groped clotted blood clot under the fabric, glue together a solid lump of hair. The blow fell in passing that spared skull and saved Tir from death. A wave of anger swept over her mind. Shooting range on his feet, the sand immediately embraced gently feet to the ankles.
Can you hear me, scorching hell! I, Crown Prince of Lakiya, Tir, challenge you! Pompously he shouted. Own voice gave strength. Evening coolness cheered, cool hot body. He threw back his voice. A myriad of stars shining in the night sky, beckoning bright like neon light dots.
He found among them the North Star and their bearings for her, moved to the West
Deserted, teasing, eye-catching to Tir, the seventh day of the journey. The day that was carrying on his shoulders the hot muzzle of the Sun. Except the sun did not seem to be around, it displaced the air, cold night life. Now the main thing to find a shelter to wait for the desired pm and again go under the cold starlight night. But where in the wilderness will find at least a piece of shade when the sun is everywhere. Even animals do not know the rest and deeply buried in quicksand.
On the first day of the journey Tir followed the example of the desert and nearly suffocated in his sandy-haven hole. He was saved small grove of Saksaulov. Tir from last forces scored parched twigs, a tent was made, the shadow attained at. Now on his way West was in search of such groves. Until that time, he was lucky, and here today in front of tired eyes stretched boundless waves
dunes. Tyr took a deep breath, the sun has not yet reached its hot zenith, there was still time. Desert, tropics, hot during the day and cold at night, made it possible to cool the remains trapped at a shallow depth of sand dunes. If, to burrow into the sand on the shady side, you can wait until the evening, when the sun will bow to a close and touch the coolness of grains of sand can go the road. And Tir was burrowing into the sand. As can be deeper, as can be farther away from the deadly rays of radiant shine. He rowed his hands almost hot sand, getting the coveted coolness, and his hands would not obey. Fatigue squeezed the breath. Grains of sand, salt bitterness, crunched on the teeth, draining moisture from the remnants of cracked rough tongue swollen and bleeding lips. When the dune slope was a small step. Tir bandage wrapped from head to protect the nose and mouth from the sand. Then he began to dig into the dune until a thick layer of sand is not cold hid the body. If you do not stay alive, here is my grave. He thought in those terrible moments. Buried alive, it does not reappear. Still, life is still warm in the body, it was shivering, like heat, which means hes still alive. Heat it. First gradually, with an incredibly creepy slow, it drives away the cold, growing to unbearable heat As the day ended, Tir did not remember. By the fact
it returned the cold. He fueled the pitiful remnants of the forces that made awaken consciousness. Tir got outside. He was shaking from the cold. Reigned around the darkness of the night, only stars twinkle in the sky, always inviting, giving hope. Looking at the North Star, Tir moved on. His journey is endless agonizing climbs on loose and rolling down the slopes. When the moon is sharp horn of the village on the horizon, the edge of the sky at East erupted. The stars that twinkled merrily, suddenly faded, and have gathered off the night sky. Suddenly he heard a woman crying is far from clear, as if someone desperately shouting or calling for help. His heart beat in his chest. Tir, gathered his strength, rushed to where the voice was coming. He overcame three small sand dune. At the top of the fourth, he again opened vast panorama of the desert. And there, in the distance, judging by the stars, in the south-west, over the horizon, could see a bunch of green vegetation. The voice seemed to came from different directions, and the sound was clearer now there. But with the first pink colors of the dawn, the voice disappeared into space, disappeared. Dawn grow stronger and already the sun slowly rose over the horizon. In the pale gloom gave melted wavy strip of greenery, to which his gaze, as their last hope of life. Tir strode forward. Legs almost did not obey; the brain molten lead broke the skull. Collecting the last of his strength, Tir was moving forward. The reality was a little ghostly. On knew that already trudged through the dead are nameless city, a voice that sounded feminine cry, belonged to a jackal pack, follow in his footsteps. Tir stubbornly trudging to their landmark that now loomed two very tall palm trees with green ball fruits that grow on the very top. Near the foot of one of them ran merry brook that formed a small puddle or a small lake. With little lake water evaporates so quickly that trickle barely had time to fill it. Tir fell right in the middle of a cool little lake, he drank greedily
Shake a little salt water, feeling the moisture poured on the hot body. As if in a dream, he drank and drank, unable to quench their thirst. Belly swelled. Tir finally got on dry sand. Its sick. But that was almost a dream. Exhausted, he forgot himself under the shade of palm crowns saving
East, like the cool palm, the breeze gently touched whiskey sleeping in the shade of palm trees at the little lake. Then angrily threw a handful of hot sand in the screwed-up eyes gray animal, pursues all over the man, and flew far, far away in the heavenly blue, where you can escape the heat and enjoy the domed minaret there a deserted city, sing in the towers, announcing the arrival of the evening chill lonely walls as he did many centuries ago, when the city lived and the streets were filled with colorful clothes of men and women, screaming kids and pets. Wind been waiting for the return of the people. Waited and when tired returned from a long trip and was unable to find the city, and only one tower pointed to the fact that the city was buried under a thick layer of sand, a long-time enemy of the west wind. Since then, the East wind Unnamed not leave town. He ceased to mourn the people buried in the streets. He roared furiously, throwing bales of sand directly hating the West in the face of wind. This went on day and at night as long as the streets of the city do not rise before a mighty punch in its pristine glory. But strangely, the people were gone, only the white bones of men so frightened gaping eye sockets of the skull, which here and there, lying across his path. Wind living searched everywhere. Flew through the window frames in the wine cellar, where rows and rows of huge barrels of unfinished wine. He knew that the wine is there, because even on the tables were full of mugs. He knew that the surviving people come back and will finish wine. He peered into a luxurious palace, where the pools still not so long ago was splashing the water clear, and now lay sand and again trying to convince himself that the people will return here to clear pools, fountains start, grow flowers. But the days passed after day, were the years of the century. Crack walls of the city, a beautiful mosaic domes, like fish scales, flew down. Wind angry at people for what they did not return to collect and bury the remains of the brothers and the city once again give life to his presence. He cursed them and wanted to get even more to one of them. He certainly would punish him for such a folly throw city gray jackals, these vile creatures that feed on carrion. Once anger at people become intolerable. Wind attacked the palm trees. He frantically tore their leaves, fruits, and was still only when he saw the sand broken one of them. He very grieved over it. Palma will never rose above desert. And then, finally, man. Oh, hes out and the East Wind, to give it all to open the door to the secret treasure of the dead city, make man the lord of the palaces. Tir opened his eyes. High above the broad leaves rustled two palm trees, broken trunk, a third lying on the hot sand to the crown lakes. The evening sun rays stretched copper on trees which now resembled bronze column. Lakeland, which saved Tir from thirst, as if burned in the sunlight, throwing handfuls of gold coins, rabbits feet, pathetic grass that grew just something where there near the little lake. Pleasant coolness poured on the tortured body, returning to the reality of Tir. He looked up, then sat down and looked around. Unfamiliar place seemed ghostly vision. He rubbed his eyes. No, its not a mirage. The water here, there, then life. A wave of joy eyes watered. Tir fell to the ground. Hot tears rolled down doling Dirty cheeks. Tir gradually calmed down. Memory painted dark days journey. For a moment it seemed that it was a dream, a vision of the desert and the unbearable heat. He remembered everything that happened to him. Seven days without food and water under a withering sun of the desert no, it cannot be repeated. Do not want even think about the continuation of the way. Though little lake water and gave him drink. But hunger was left. He saw in the sand a few round, the size of a human head, the fruit. Hardly picked up one, exhausted hands. He wanted to smash a coconut hit one of the other, but the venture failed. Only overpower even more, he collapsed with a nut in his hand in the shadow of palm trees on the soft sand. Catching his breath, Tir, as in a dream staggered slowly to his feet. View opened half filled with sand wall of a guard tower towering gate. Even now, the wall was still high. Tyr went to the gate closes baggy folds into the city. He, though not explicitly, still remembered that there was to the healing spring across the city through the open gate. And someone closed the door behind him, and maybe it made the wind?
Hey-ho! Is there anyone? Shouted Tir.
Who-who-who? Echoed through the city. Tirs listened. Dead silence reigned there. Fear, like ants crawling on a swarm the back. As if someones gaze followed him. An unpleasant chills ran through his body. Tir involuntarily looked up. No one was not in a narrow loophole the Watchtower: Probably, there in the darkness of the shadow sits this savage!., He thought.
Tir still moved forward. Comforting thought that if someone he wanted to find something that someone would already have done it. Cheered up these thoughts, he forcefully pushed the gate leaf. Bloodcurdling screech broke the silence. He saw a narrow street, in the middle of which could be seen distinctly human footprints. He is excited with joy looking at them, afraid of only one, and suddenly it a mirage? But the sigh of disappointment escaped from the emaciated chest, its his own trail! West Wind sarcastically observes pathetic, leather-wrapped human a skeleton, suddenly come to life in a ghost town. Stealthily, so as not to wake his longtime opponent of the Eastern wind, so the people who loved and defended, Western, when a man was lying senseless in the shade of palm trees, closed the gate leaf. Tir moved along the ruins. The sun almost touching
horizon, casting the surviving walls of the long shadows on the street. Need to find a home somewhere to gather strength. As I was struck by the surviving structure of a rectangular shape with a flat roof. Tir went there. He crossed the area, which ended in the street. Evening cool is eager body, but from the ruins of clay, both on the stove has cooled down, still smacked of heat. Black hole entrance wafted mold the dungeon. Tir the stone steps down to a spacious hall. Twilight of the indoor space of the room made it difficult to discern. Gradually his eyes adapted and Tir was able to see a short, round tables, covered with decayed rags, cups on the tables. Tir curiously approached. Bronze bowl with a thread made with great skill, were filled with sand. He took one and held it up for a better look over to the window, carving on bronze striking beauty. Last glare of the setting sun still penetrated the city and the remnants of light fell into the square hole of the window illuminating the gloom Zaal. On the table, next to the bowls were bowls. Hearth in the middle of the hall. There, on the circuit was a huge cauldron filled with sand.
Apparently this is the hall where the mob is going on holidays for entertainment events. Tir guessed it then there must be a wine cellar!
Tir almost groping got to the entrance to the cellar. Foot felt the first step in the darkness that enveloped the entrance to the basement, went down. There was groping explore the basement and soon came across a wet barrel, then another one, again and again. Below, on one of the barrels, he felt the wooden plug sticking out of the barrel, as the mote out of a tree trunk. Tyr tried to move her, to no avail. Then gather strength struck the foot traffic, there is no result. Fatigue fell upon a new force made drops on the cold and wet ground cellar. Hands in the dark looking for the support and stumbled upon a small stone. Tir was on his knees and felt the cork, hit it, trying to dislodge it. Knock tree stone silence woke. Thud of wood stone silence woke the dungeon, but cork resist. Slightly moving spirit, he resumed his pounding stone on wooden bitches. And bough broke. Forces again left him with his knees, he slid down and this time he found himself in a sticky wet and smelling delicious wine puddle. Tir touched the place where the broken tube. Oh! Miracle! there trickled wine! He set his hand and when without waiting in the palm would be enough wine, eagerly licking small portions with wet hands. This went on until the power finally left him Tir came out of the cellar, he did not remember, but he had to spend the night at a round table at which He brushed his hand decayed rags with sand. Night came out cold. Sleep is coming, the heat by covering the body and disappear, threading needles cold. Tyr at such moments crook into a ball, pressing his feet and hands to his chest. That morning! He amused himself! I will find fuel and light a fire the next night, it will be warm, the night will be warm. From these thoughts Tir getting warmer, and again he forgot himself in his sleep. As the sun rose above the horizon and drove cool off. Sweet Dream swept Tir. first time in eight nights, he was fast asleep. I woke up only when the heat, extending its tentacles in the window, got to him, pulled the rest of sleep. Tir opened his eyes blinding shaft of light slashed like a blade. For a moment it seemed that a shadow flickered and disappeared. Tir jumped up and found that a piece of cotton patched in many places robe hid it at night. Looking around closely, he saw that the fire is smoldering under the cauldron, and from it comes the delicious smell. But to detect the presence of man, he could not. As if he is on fire in the hearth fire and cooked him a delicious blue of the game. Without hesitation Tir rushed to Kazan and scooping hot ladle blue left behind by someone, burning and choking, greedily ate the contents. And only when the bottom of a drop not left and hunger with a vengeance whipped eat several servings, he found that the food is no more