Chapter 5: The First Loss
Twilight quickly gave way to impenetrable darkness. In Rustam's house, everyone had long since gone to bed; only from a small window on the second floor did the faint light of a kerosene lamp filter through—Ermek was reviewing old maps of the area, trying to find the safest route to the caves.
Alexei awoke to the sensation that the medallion on his chest was vibrating. It didn't feel like anything natural—the silver disc was pulsating as if trying to warn him. He sat up in bed and listened. Outside, silence reigned—no familiar chirping of crickets, no rustle of leaves. A strange, tense silence.
He rose silently and approached the window. Moonlight flooded the garden, transforming the apple trees into bizarre silver sculptures. At first glance, everything seemed calm, but intuition told him something was wrong.
At that moment, Alexei noticed movement by the fence—a shadow gliding between the trees. Then another, from the opposite side of the garden. They were moving deliberately, surrounding the house.
Without wasting a second, Alexei ran out of his room. In the hallway, he collided with Dinara.
"They're here," he whispered. "The house is surrounded."
Fear flashed in her eyes, but she quickly composed herself.
"Wake Ermek," she said. "I'll warn grandfather."
Alexei nodded and headed for Ermek's room. But before he could take three steps, the sound of breaking glass came from outside, followed by a muffled explosion. The house filled with acrid smoke.
"Flash-bang grenade!" Alexei shouted. "To the exit!"
He grabbed Dinara's hand and pulled her toward the stairs. At that moment, the front door crashed off its hinges, and dark figures in masks and with weapons burst into the house.
"Upstairs!" Alexei commanded, changing direction.
They ran up the stairs just as Ermek rushed out of his room with a hunting rifle in his hands.
"Through the window, to the garden!" he shouted. "I'll hold them off!"
"No, Uncle!" Dinara exclaimed. "They'll kill you!"
"Do as I say!" Ermek snapped, taking position at the stairs. "Grandfather is in the far room, take him and leave through the western window. There's an apple tree there; you can climb down it."
Alexei pulled Dinara to Rustam's room. The old man was already on his feet, dressed, with a small leather pouch in his hands. His calmness in this situation was astonishing.
"They've come for the medallion," Rustam said, looking Alexei in the eyes. "Karabaev will stop at nothing."
From below came a gunshot, then shouts and sounds of struggle.
"We must hurry," Rustam approached the window and opened it. "Dinara, you go first. Help me climb down, and then Alexei should jump."
Without hesitation, Dinara climbed out the window and skillfully descended the thick trunk of the apple tree. Rustam handed her his pouch, then began to climb out unhurriedly. For his age, he moved with remarkable confidence.
Alexei nervously glanced at the door, expecting the pursuers to appear. From below came new shots and curses. Ermek was still holding off the attackers, but it was clear this wouldn't last long.
When Rustam safely descended, Alexei climbed onto the windowsill. At that moment, the door to the room burst open, and a man in a black mask with a pistol appeared on the threshold.
"Stop!" he shouted.
Without hesitation, Alexei jumped. The apple tree cushioned his fall, but it still hurt. A shot rang out from above, the bullet whistled past and embedded itself in the tree trunk.
"Run!" Dinara pulled him along.
They dashed through the garden toward the back gate, with Rustam following them at a surprising speed for his age. All around, shouts echoed, and flashlight beams darted among the trees.
"This way!" Rustam pointed to a narrow path winding between the trees.
They ran beyond the garden's bounds and found themselves amid tall cornfields. Dark stalks closed over their heads, hiding them from pursuers. Behind them, more shots rang out.
"What about Ermek?" asked Dinara, breathing heavily.
"Your uncle knows what he's doing," Rustam replied. "He's distracting them so we can escape."
They made their way through the cornfield, trying to move as quietly as possible. After some time, a glow flared behind them—Rustam's house was on fire.
"Their usual tactic," the old man said grimly. "Destroying evidence."
Finally, they emerged from the cornfield and found themselves at the foot of a hill. Here began a sparse forest, with trees growing on the steep slope.
"We need to go up," Rustam indicated. "At the summit, there's a cave where we can hide and wait."
The climb was difficult, especially for Rustam. Despite being in good physical condition, age was taking its toll. Alexei supported the old man by the arm, helping him overcome particularly steep sections.
"Are you all right?" he asked when Rustam heavily sat down on a stone to catch his breath.
"Just a short rest," the old man smiled. "In my youth, I could climb this mountain in twenty minutes. Now I need to stop."
Dinara nervously looked back at the valley from which they had come.
"They might follow our tracks," she said. "Especially if they have dogs."
"The path we're taking is frequently used by shepherds and their flocks," Rustam replied. "Our tracks will be lost among hundreds of others. Plus, it should rain soon." He pointed to heavy clouds obscuring the stars.
They continued their journey. The higher they climbed, the cooler the air became. The wind strengthened, bending the grass and making trees creak. Soon the first raindrops fell, and then a downpour began.
"This is good," said Rustam, although they were all soaked to the skin. "The rain will wash away our tracks."
Finally, they reached a small rocky ledge, behind which opened the entrance to a cave—a narrow crevice in the rock, barely noticeable in the darkness.
"We've arrived," announced Rustam. "We'll be safe here."
They squeezed inside and found themselves in a small but dry grotto. Rustam took flint from his pouch and lit a small oil lamp, which was also in his baggage.
"You came prepared," Alexei remarked, looking at the old man with respect.
"When you're eighty-four years old and keeping an ancient secret, you need to be ready for surprises," Rustam grinned. "At my age, you don't run as fast as you used to, but experience suggests what might come in handy."
Besides the lamp, Rustam's pouch contained crackers, dried meat, a bottle of water, and, most importantly, that ancient book with his ancestor's records.
"You specifically took it with you," Dinara noted. "You knew they would come?"
"I didn't know, but I suspected," Rustam replied, carefully taking out the book. "Since Alexei called you from St. Petersburg, I've been preparing for this moment. Secrets of this magnitude don't remain unnoticed for long."
He opened the book and, by the light of the oil lamp, began turning the fragile pages.
"What I told you earlier is just a small part of the story," he said. "This book contains knowledge that my ancestor received from old David, the last keeper of the Nestorian secret."
Rustam frowned, turning the pages.
"Strange," he muttered. "There should be a map here… Or at least a description of it."
He quickly looked through several pages, then stopped.
"Here it is.