Gemini Alatyr of Island. Children of dead mother. Сергей Соловьев

ldren of dead mother

      Сергей Соловьев

      © Сергей Соловьев, 2019

      ISBN 978-5-4496-9548-2

      Created with Ridero smart publishing system

      You, that you are, and you, that it will be.

      White Island

      Yamal

      The woman went around the hunting grounds with traps set apart in advance and fishing belonging to the Sage gangs. An ordinary woman on this island, dressed in fur, consisting of a fur jacket with a hood, suede dresses and boots with a soft but durable sole, she had a bow behind her back, and on her belt a bronze dagger and a club made of solid wood, two the elbow, and the scrapper that she dragged along. She checked this part of the island in turn, there were seven of them altogether, seven of the witches living here according to their vows, and sometimes they sailed to the mainland, to the Ob River, on holidays, to light the sacred fire, but now she checked tops where she could in the intricate mesh fish, usually cod. Everyone here was accustomed to fresh fish, it was not salted, and the reserve was put on a glacier in a mountain, where even the summer sun did not fall, and it was always cold, but it was necessary to close their reserves from foxes. And now, she had already fished a couple of fish from a trap in shallow water, and put them in a basket on a trap, and passed on along the rocky coast and tested the next trap. They went out into the sea, threw nets and fished and into the sea in their leather boat, made of the ribs of a whale with stitched seals hiding on them. Also, the sea brought a lot of wood to the island, and it was also allowed to work, or to maintain fire. Now she was inspecting the rocky beach of the island, covered with fog, the island was often covered with fog, so it was called Hidden. Nearby was another island, where seven hermit wizards lived, leading the same life as solitary and simple. A witch adjusted a slipped bronze bracelet on her left hand, in the form of spirals on the end, and silver temporal rings on leather braid, which also slipped, and she carefully removed the bandage and tied anew, adjusting the silver tick on her forehead, removing the blond braid in the hood. Pebbles rustled under her soft soles, the fog was just like milk, and it seemed to her that she saw the contour of the boat, but she thought it was a dream because their boat was far away, on the other end of the island, but distinctly heard a moan. The girl was terribly surprised, but went to the sound. She walked carefully, stepping, trying not to make a sound, and so she saw the nose of the leather boat, which had been buried in the shore. She freed herself from the trash, pulled her club out from behind her back, took her in her right hand, and examined the find. In the boat lay and moaned a woman, ready to be resolved from the burden. The witch examined her, with her forehead covered with sweat, but the woman herself was also wearing a long fur jacket with a hood, a suede dress, and under it a knitted dress made of flax and high fur boots, there were also bronze temporal rings in the form helix, and dagger on the belt. Apparently, the fight began on the road, and no one could help a woman. The islander, not particularly thinking, grabbed her shoulders and carefully placed the woman on her sled, creaked under the weight of her body, and removing her club, took the load to the cave, to her friends, the benefit of the shelter was not far. I drove and looked around, drove and looked around and the woman and the fish would not fall from the sleigh. The older witch on the head will not stroke if the food is gone, and even the reserves are few. I brought it quickly, because I almost ran away, and the fisherman was flushing all over, on a small, but already cold, because a month had already passed since the autumn solstice.

      – I came! – the girl shouted, “With prey!” in response, dogs barking came from the fur canopy, and then out, carefully revealing the fur cloth made of deer skins, so as not to wind the cave, three girls came out, and already a woman with teary eyes, and three huskies rolled out with them, waving their tails merrily, turning to sniff the comers, whether they were their own, and then with a bark they rushed to the haggling, sniff the lying uninvited guest.

      – She was a mother in labor, could not leave her, forgive me, – the girl was making excuses.

      – We went, we’ll see, and why look at her, Lada sent, we will help. Come on, carry a woman inside, but don’t forget about the fish, she went and grumbled for order, – be careful, do not log, and you, Krasa, hold the curtains, otherwise chill out the chambers.Carry it not in the room, and in the room nearby. Fox, you prepare warm water, take it off the hearth, and carry two pots. Nettle, you carry a blanket and a blanket, – the elder dexterously disposed of.

      – And you, once found, – she turned to the fisherwoman, – go with me, take an infusion for a woman, take off her fur coat, and wash your hands. So the Moon, now absolutely you will become, – she has grinned. The moon examined the habitual dwelling – their upper room with a hearth of stones covered with clay, next to which stood a sacred vessel made of clay, tied up not with willow, but ivy sprouts from the mainland and filled with coals to make a fire. They took the vessel with them when the women left the cave on the island, and it was possible to kindle a fire from the coals, and they brought this vessel, the sacred vessel on the Moon drag wire. Their houses had beautiful walls painted with ocher and patterns in the form of spirals and double spirals, the girl liked to look at it all. She took off her fur coat, remained in a dress and a fur jacket without sleeves, washed her hands in a tub with water, and carefully rubbed them with sand. -And you, Polka, don’t look, but prepare herbs, their decay, so that all the potion would be warm.

      Two gray shadows slid past Paulie, the dogs settled down to the hot hearth, and laid their faces on their paws.

      “I’ll do everything, Mara, as you please,” Polka replied, clutching at the wicker basket with sharp-smelling drugs.

      – And you, Talka, take care of the fish, take it to the glacier, and put it in pots, in pots so that the foxes would not gobble up.

      The last, the youngest girl, about thirteen, rushed to drag the baskets to a distant cave, and you could hear two willow baskets rustling in the corridor.

      And Mara and Luna, led by supporting a woman in labor under her elbows, without asking her name. They brought to the other chambers, it was also warm there, stripped, and Mara fumigated the woman with herbs and putting the Lada statue next to her, examined her and finally asked:

      – What is your name, good woman?

      “They call a color,” said the rozhanitsa, slightly moving her bitten lips.

      – Nothing, you will give birth, – Mara looked at her with a gloomy look, – you will have two.

      – How did you get in the boat? Alone, but in the sea blue, without a husband?

      – He died, and the ancestors thought that I, too, had died, and put them as dead in a boat. And I woke up in the blue sea, prayed to the Good Goddess, and the waves were sent to you, I did not want to desecrate the Hidden Island.

      “So Lada decided, so be it,” Mara flashed her eyes at the Color, and put a number of knitted towels next to her.

      She came with steamed herbs and drinking cups and fields. She gently filtered the healing infusion and gave the elder witch. She gave medicine to a woman, and soon she felt a little easier, and again the contractions began.

      Childbirth was not easy, the sage helped the children, but could not save Color, they found her on the island too late.

      When it was over, Mara came out to breathe, throwing her fur coat. She lifted her head up, looking at the stars on the sky cleared of clouds, and saw a tailed star flying in the coal darkness, past sparkling constellations. The day before yesterday, as she remembered, the comet was not yet in the sky.

      And the children were born, two boys and a girl, Gemini, and Mara each dripped a drop of honey into her mouth, introducing them to the gods, and their mother, Tsveta, was buried in a cave below by tier, in an ice tomb, where now the icy dead witches, sleeping forever in granite tombs, in a place where there was never heat, and instead of grass there was only snow and ice, instead of trees only icicles from the ceiling grew, and the eternal darkness, like the eternal sun, covered