feel hot, but otherwise it was all right.
‘Now lie down on the sofa.’
‘I’m not lying down!’ Senka snarled, and he looked away again.
But he did lie down, because his head was spinning. And the instant his head touched the cushions, everything went blank.
When Senka woke up it was day, and not early in the day either –the sun was shining from the other side, not from where the street was but from the yard. Lying under a blanket – which was light and fluffy with a blue-and-green check – he felt free and easy.
Death was sitting at the table, sideways on to Senka sewing something, or maybe doing her embroidery. She looked incredibly beautiful from the side, only she seemed sadder than when you saw her from the front. He didn’t open his eyes wide, just peeked out at her for a long time. He had to figure out how to behave after what had just happened. Why, for instance, was he lying there naked? Not completely naked, that is, he had his pants on, but no shirt and no boots. That had to mean she undressed him while he was asleep, and he didn’t remember a thing.
Just then Death turned her head and Senka shut his eyelids quickly, but even so she realised he wasn’t sleeping any more.
‘Are you awake?’ she said. ‘Are you hungry? Sit at the table. Here’s a fresh roll. And here’s some milk.’
‘I don’t want it,’ Senka muttered, offended by the milk. Why couldn’t she offer him a man’s drink – tea or coffee? But then, of course, what respect could he hope for after snivelling like a little kid?
She stood up, took the cup and bread roll off the table and sat down beside him. Senka was afraid Death would start feeding him by hand, like a baby, and he sat up.
Suddenly he felt so desperately hungry he started trembling all over. And he started gobbling down the bread and washing it down with milk. Death watched and waited. She didn’t have to wait for long, Senka guzzled it all in a minute.
‘Now tell me what the matter is.’
There was nothing else for it. He hung his head, scowled, and told her – briefly, but honestly, without keeping anything back. And this is how he finished: ‘So I’m sorry, I’ve let you down. You vouched for me to the Prince, and I turned out too weak, you see. What kind of bandit would I make? I thought I was a falcon, and I’m nothing but a mangy little sparrow.’
And as soon as he finished, he looked up at her. She seemed so angry that Senka felt really terrible.
They didn’t say anything for a little while. Then she spoke: ‘I’m the one who owes you an apology, Speedy, for letting you get anywhere near the Prince. I wasn’t myself at the time.’ Then she shook her head and said to herself, not to Senka: ‘Oh, Prince, Prince . . .’
‘It wasn’t the Prince, it was Deadeye,’ he said. ‘Deadeye killed the Kalmyks. I told you . . .’
‘What can you expect from Deadeye, he’s not even human. But the Prince wasn’t always that way, I remember. At first I even wanted . . .’
Senka never found out what it was she wanted, because at that very moment they heard a knock, a special one: tap-tap, tap-tap-tap, and then two more times, tap-tap.
Death started and jumped up: ‘It’s him! Talk of the devil. Come on, get up, quick. If he sees you, he’ll kill you. He won’t care that you’re just a kid. He’s so awfully jealous.’
Senka didn’t have to be asked twice – he was up off that sofa in a flash, he wasn’t even offended by that ‘kid’.
He asked in a frightened voice: ‘Which way? The window?’
‘No, it takes too long to open.’
Senka made for one of the two white doors at the back of the room.
‘You can’t go in the bathroom. The Prince is fussy about keeping clean, the first thing he always does is go and wash his hands. Go in there.’ And she nodded to the other door.
Senka didn’t care – he’d have climbed into a hot oven to get away from the Prince. He was knocking again now – louder than before.
Senka
‘Now lie down on the sofa.’
‘I’m not lying down!’ Senka snarled, and he looked away again.
But he did lie down, because his head was spinning. And the instant his head touched the cushions, everything went blank.
When Senka woke up it was day, and not early in the day either –the sun was shining from the other side, not from where the street was but from the yard. Lying under a blanket – which was light and fluffy with a blue-and-green check – he felt free and easy.
Death was sitting at the table, sideways on to Senka sewing something, or maybe doing her embroidery. She looked incredibly beautiful from the side, only she seemed sadder than when you saw her from the front. He didn’t open his eyes wide, just peeked out at her for a long time. He had to figure out how to behave after what had just happened. Why, for instance, was he lying there naked? Not completely naked, that is, he had his pants on, but no shirt and no boots. That had to mean she undressed him while he was asleep, and he didn’t remember a thing.
Just then Death turned her head and Senka shut his eyelids quickly, but even so she realised he wasn’t sleeping any more.
‘Are you awake?’ she said. ‘Are you hungry? Sit at the table. Here’s a fresh roll. And here’s some milk.’
‘I don’t want it,’ Senka muttered, offended by the milk. Why couldn’t she offer him a man’s drink – tea or coffee? But then, of course, what respect could he hope for after snivelling like a little kid?
She stood up, took the cup and bread roll off the table and sat down beside him. Senka was afraid Death would start feeding him by hand, like a baby, and he sat up.
Suddenly he felt so desperately hungry he started trembling all over. And he started gobbling down the bread and washing it down with milk. Death watched and waited. She didn’t have to wait for long, Senka guzzled it all in a minute.
‘Now tell me what the matter is.’
There was nothing else for it. He hung his head, scowled, and told her – briefly, but honestly, without keeping anything back. And this is how he finished: ‘So I’m sorry, I’ve let you down. You vouched for me to the Prince, and I turned out too weak, you see. What kind of bandit would I make? I thought I was a falcon, and I’m nothing but a mangy little sparrow.’
And as soon as he finished, he looked up at her. She seemed so angry that Senka felt really terrible.
They didn’t say anything for a little while. Then she spoke: ‘I’m the one who owes you an apology, Speedy, for letting you get anywhere near the Prince. I wasn’t myself at the time.’ Then she shook her head and said to herself, not to Senka: ‘Oh, Prince, Prince . . .’
‘It wasn’t the Prince, it was Deadeye,’ he said. ‘Deadeye killed the Kalmyks. I told you . . .’
‘What can you expect from Deadeye, he’s not even human. But the Prince wasn’t always that way, I remember. At first I even wanted . . .’
Senka never found out what it was she wanted, because at that very moment they heard a knock, a special one: tap-tap, tap-tap-tap, and then two more times, tap-tap.
Death started and jumped up: ‘It’s him! Talk of the devil. Come on, get up, quick. If he sees you, he’ll kill you. He won’t care that you’re just a kid. He’s so awfully jealous.’
Senka didn’t have to be asked twice – he was up off that sofa in a flash, he wasn’t even offended by that ‘kid’.
He asked in a frightened voice: ‘Which way? The window?’
‘No, it takes too long to open.’
Senka made for one of the two white doors at the back of the room.
‘You can’t go in the bathroom. The Prince is fussy about keeping clean, the first thing he always does is go and wash his hands. Go in there.’ And she nodded to the other door.
Senka didn’t care – he’d have climbed into a hot oven to get away from the Prince. He was knocking again now – louder than before.
Senka
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