When the Golden chariot of the beautiful Surya disappeared behind the mountains, darkness descended on the earth.
All day long this beautiful young man delighted all living things around, gave light and warmth to every stunted blade of grass and Bush, warmed sand stones and played with the ringing waves of the modest river.
People love Surya, because It gives strength to crops to grow, and they, in turn, give strength to fast-footed horses. Each new day begins with the appearance of Surya in the sky. He drives away the darkness and cold and people thank him with a morning bow.
But it was Surya's turn to leave and the swift-footed Vayu, the wind God, immediately burst into the air from the North. And it got cold. Vayu dispersed the clouds and revealed to Soma everything that was being done on earth.
The moon-God, Soma is pale, dominated by the sky at night, surrounded by his twenty-seven wives of the constellations. Until recently, Soma, cursed by his father, was sick and thin and very weakly illuminated the cosmic darkness, but then he became round again and, sparing no effort, illuminated the endless hilly terrain, strewn with small bushes and stones to the very edge of the earth.
Next to one of these large stones, still warm from the light of Surya, sat a young man on the ground. You might have taken it for a huge wolf curled up for the night, if only it wasn't for the boy's curly head with long light brown hair.
The Ahani youth shivered, wrapping the wolf's cloak even more tightly around him and burying his nose in its coarse fur. The small herd of cows he was guarding had been sleeping peacefully for a long time. Ahani overhead stretches the vast dome of black sky, littered with an uncountable number of cool stars.
He knew from fairy tales that his distant ancestors came from the land of ice, where there is no warm summer, but for some reason he did not like the cold. On nights like this, it was good to bask in memories.
He remembered the name-giving ceremony well.
Ahani's father, a tall, bearded, and very strong man, nodded encouragingly to his son when elder Vyasa mentioned the boy's name, Ahani. He said that the boy was already grown up and could be helped by his elders.
"So the fiery Agni told me," said Vyasa.
Immediately after the ceremony, the mother of the Bindweed prepared food for her son, put it in a bag and hugged him goodbye. Ahani was always embarrassed by this, because he was already a full head taller than her, and considered himself a grown-up husband, and not a baby to be petted by mammies and aunts.
The two older brothers jokingly advised Ahani to wear two pants so as not to freeze anything, but from their tone, Ahani could tell that Brani and story were also happy for him.
And his little sister Savitri tugged at his sleeve for a long time before leaving.
"Take me with you!" Take me with you! she often repeated, looking up into his eyes pleadingly, jumping up and down with impatience, shaking her thick shock of light — brown hair, just like Ahani's, but much longer, to the waist.
"Calm Down, Savitri! bindweed's mother frowned sternly and gently pulled The girl away from her son. "Help me!"
So Ahani left the village for his first guard, under the benevolent gaze of his entire family, taking with him his favorite yew bow and a long dagger strapped in a leather scabbard on the left side of his belt.
But at the very edge of the village, where the cultivated fields began, a melodious voice called out to him.
"Where are you going, Ahani?" Rohini, his girlfriend, asked cheerfully.
She stood proudly with her fist on her side and her snub nose with small freckles turned up, as if she was not interested in this at all, and she just asked out of nothing to do. Surya, the sun setting behind the mountains, took a last look at the girl's beautiful blonde hair, which fell far below the waist, and her slender figure, wrapped in a light ankle-length dress and belted with a red string. Her waist was so thin that Ahani felt as if he could wrap his hands around her if he wanted to.
Ahani and Rohini were of the same age and had played together and been friends since they were young, so the young man replied with a smile.
— This is not a woman's business, Rohini.
— I know everything myself, you don't have to tell me, - the girl came closer and looked seriously into the eyes of the young man. — You're not going to sleep tonight, are you?"
the young man frowned. "I'm not a boy.
Rohini suddenly took hold of his little finger and looked into Ahani's eyes again, but this time with regret.
"Forgive me, may the gods be kind to you," she said in a barely audible voice, and then she released Ahani's finger, spun around so that her thick hair flew up, sending a wave of forest fragrance over the dumbfounded youth, and disappeared into the approaching gloom between the red sides of the yurts.
Ahani looked at the little finger of his right hand that Heaney had been holding a moment ago. It was a strange sensation, unfamiliar to him before. They had been friends for a long time and sometimes jostled each other, but this particular touch of hers was different.
The coolness of her fingers sent a small shiver through his body, and his chest felt warm, and the ground swam a little under his feet. With a shake of his head, dismissing the strange and new sensations, Ahani turned his back on his native village and confidently walked along the dusty road between the cultivated and already sprouting fields.
He arrived on the field on time, but the boys he was supposed to relieve shouted impatiently as soon as they saw him:
— What took you so long?" We are tired of waiting!
"It always takes a long time to wait," Ahani said with a smile, knowing that they were tired and probably hungry. "Run home now.
The boys trotted down the road, their heels flashing. As soon as they had gone a little way, one of them, a Dikshi, called out to Ahani in a thin voice:
"That cow! he pointed to the animal that had already settled down for the night before anyone else. "She's sick!" Get her some water!
Ahani raised his right hand to indicate that he understood, and nodded. The young man went to the sick cow and stroked it between its horns, and it looked up at him with huge, moist eyes and gave a short, plaintive mumble. Then he picked up a wooden bucket from the grass and walked with it to the moonlit river.
The water was very cold. The river began somewhere in the high mountains that covered the entire sky near the village of Ahani, just a day's ride on horseback. Ahani had been there once with his father when they were searching for a stallion that had escaped from their herd. Then they returned the horse, but while they were searching, the boy had seen enough of the majestic gray mountains with white snow caps.
"Your older brother Manu is out there somewhere," his father had said bitterly. — He went off with his friends to get fame and fortune.
— What's beyond the mountain?" Ahani had asked with interest.
"There are dense forests that are filled with evil animals and huge snakes," my father said. "And there are elephants, which are the largest of the animals. And there live the evil black dasas, this is their country.
Then Ahani looked anxiously at the mountain, but then roused himself and asked.
— Will he come back?" My brother.
"Only Varuna the true knows this," said the father, knitting his brows, " And we cannot know it unless Varuna has mercy on us and gives his answer through the fiery Agni."
Ahani had never seen his older brother, who had left the family when the boy was very young, but he had heard the older men say that he was the strongest of the young warriors.
Ahani filled a bucket full of cold, bubbling water and brought it to the sick cow, but she was already asleep, breathing hard and hot.
He climbed a small hillock and sat down on the stunted grass, pressing his back against a huge, warm boulder and watching the herd and the low hills in the moonlight. To make sure, he placed his bow and quiver of arrows on the ground next to him.
A cool wind was blowing. Its gentle but insistent gusts ruffled Ahani's brown hair, rolled over the waves of sparse and low grass that grew on the slopes of hills that could even be called hills, writhed, rustling sand between huge brown boulders scattered here and there, churned the waves of a small river and carried away towards the mountains.
For a long time sitting motionless, even in a wolf's Cape, Ahani began to freeze and when his teeth were already beating out a shot from the cold, he abruptly got up and began to run quickly around his boulder. As fast as he could, and still changing directions — first three circles in one direction, then a sharp turn on his toes, kicking up handfuls of rubble with his soft boots, then three circles in the opposite direction, and so on until he was warm.
When the night was half over, Ahani noticed movement on the horizon, at the top of a gentle hill. He stretched out his tall, lean body on the ground and stared at it warily. The boy hoped that he had imagined it, or that it was just the shadow of a lone boulder that lay on the ground, but the next moment he saw a silhouette.