“I found it out from your daughter. My father thought of it, Boyarin.”
“How unfortunate! And why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”
“What for?”
“We might have both saved ourselves.”
“We have plenty of time for that,” replied Maxim quietly. “Only let us stay together and if anything should happen don’t let anyone harm me, Boyarin, while I am unarmed.”
“That’s to be understood,” said the boyar. “But what shall we do?”
“For now, there’s no need to be afraid,” replied Maxim. “The stream is narrow and the valley wide, the water is rising very slowly. But it won’t continue so for long. In perhaps an hour or so there will come down from the mountain tops a real flood and it will quickly fill the valley. By evening the waters will have risen higher than the tallest man. We must hold out until then for while the Mongols are still alive they will never let us out of their hands.”
“But until that time they could easily chop us up to bits.”
“Don’t worry, Boyarin. A man in danger is not likely to be belligerent. He thinks first of preserving himself and not about another’s death. Let’s try to find a safe place for ourselves to stand on where the water will not reach to drown us when the flood comes.”
While the boyar and Maxim were talking the Mongols had moved back from the wall of rock and stood irresolutely in the middle of the lake. The water reached nearly to their knees. Burunda glared furiously at the unexpected enemy which was not intimidated by his angry voice or his warrior’s might. He kicked at it, spit at it, scolded and swore at it with the most terrible oaths, but the foe, quietly and peacefully splashed in the valley, flowing along in slow waves, continuing to increase. It was reaching up to the knees of the Mongols,
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