The Tattooed Princess

Teacher or Friend?

        Later in the day the girls were summoned again from their rooms by the attending women. This time they were led out of the palace cave complex onto the open plains. These vast lands stretched out to the east as far as the eye could see. Looking down from the foot of the mountain where Sharvur's fortress was embedded, the girls took in the enormous tent city that was his domain. They understood that this was but one of the Scythian leader's mobile horse settlements, as word was in the western lands that he and the Pazyryk controlled much of the immense territories leading into Asia.

            The girls were brought down to a corral where many horses were being attended to by men whose job it was to groom and look after them. There they were led to a young man, who cleaner and more refined than the others,  seemed to have been waiting for their arrival. He was tall, of a thin build and had no beard as most of the nomadic men had. This gave his face a more handsome appearance and a somewhat closer affinity to the younger males the grils  were used to seeing all their lives in the Western provinces. This young man appeared to be in his mid-twenties. He was dressed in the traditional leather clothing of the soldiers, buit instead of braided, wore his hair long and free. He was also uncharistically unarmed and his kind face projected intractable boyish features. Surprisingly, he began to speak to the girls in their native Slavic language.

            "My name is Moshtok," he told them, and flashed an unexpected smile. "I am to be your translator and teacher of the language of my people."

            The three girls were astounded by his speech and demeanor. Branka put her hand over her lovely mouth in surprise, while Zaria and Svetlana widened their eyes and fidgited with their golden hair in anticipation of what he would tell them

            "We are the horse people of these plains," he said.  "And our language is known far across these lands."

            Moshtok waved his long arm out beyond the corralled horses to the distant snow-capped mountains including all the flatlands between.

            "You will be expected to know this language and use it when you are in the presence of our exceptional king."

            The girls took great solace from his voice and familiar language. It was a comfort they did not expect. As he gave them this warning, they did not take their eyes off him and nodded as he spoke.

            "You must know . . . our king Sharvur is a man himself of little words.  But when he wants to speak to someone, they must respond clearly and sensibly. He has been known to . . . punish those severely who do not respond to him with total respect. And so you must honor him with the language he knows and understands. Do you follow what I am telling you?"

            The girls quickly indicated with their rapid nods that they did.

            "The word in our land for 'yes' is  Kir."

             "Kir," they answered back in unison.

            "King Sharvur has put me in charge of teaching you our language. You must begin using it quickly and never speak in your own tongue. . . this one again--at least while in his presence. Do you understand that also?  For this is Sharvur's command."

            "Kir!"

            "I do not wish to disappoint him. He is my master. And you girls could become trouble for me if you do not show progress in what I have taught you. You must alwways do your best . . . as I must. Understood?"

            The girls all answered back in unison once more. But it was Zaria's nature to take the lead.

            "So . . . how did you learn our language so well, Moshtok?"