Capítulo 2: The ship goes up the river
All morning we were tidying up our equipment and each was thinking what a piece of the pie he will get from this campaign. While we were doing the hard job like pulling teeth with a rigging, Valentin was sitting leaning back in a chair, indulging in dreams and memories.
Oh Astrakhan! The land blessed by the Creator. Full-flowing Volga and endless steppe. You are the castle between the wild north and the swaggering south. You are the center of trade and GDP growth of the region!
"Watch out! Step aside!" Valentin cried, but Nicodemus didn't stay on his feet and overboard.
"You are so out of place!" said Valentin to Nicodemus when he, all wet, climbed on board. "Welcome on board!"
***
Oh Gulnara! You are the star of the Khan's Chancellery! Looking at your beauty, Kazanians are stupefied, Muscovites drool right on their beards and Persians on their knees supplicate to become a mistress in their harem.
And you are a prankster and a virgin besides, Valentin knows that!
"I hope that captain knows what he is doing," said Valentin interrupting his dreams, "otherwise, I think our ship will be crashed against the rocks."
There was a terrible crack, our ship, and so not very strong, fell apart in half and then into several more parts. All upside down, legs above heads. Wet and angry, we got ashore, the horses scattered in different directions. Sailors from passing ships laughed and pointed fingers at us.
"Sailed!" Nicodemus exclaimed and wept.
Nicolas wasted no time wanted to hang the captain. But Valentin forbade it, and actually the shore was treeless, only shrubs around. The captain went out of need in the bushes, and escaped from there.
***
After spending the night, our detachment moved along the shore up the river.
I was even glad that we were stuck. I was not in a hurry to fight, I was attracted to botany. The Lower Volga has a rich and varied flora.
I rejoiced when sometimes Valentin's stomach was seized cause of drinking koumiss before sailing, and our column stopped for an hour or two. At this time, I could walk through the surrounding bushes and collect plants for my herbarium, or carefully dig up a flower in order to study its roots.
You know, here in the lower reaches of the Volga there is real magic. Not abstract magic told by shabby middle-aged women and men who want to correct their unfortunate teenage feelings. And the real sinister magic that can kill. There was a dismal silence as the sun was going down.
"I'm so scared, I feel like this is my last campaign," I said to the setting sun, "I have done (especially said) so many bad things in my life. I can't fix anything. I must pay for everything. Oh the Creator, reduce my wages!"
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