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I had not put on my left glove。
I laid my cold hand now on his forehead； lightly； not wanting to take liberties； and slowly he opened his eyes。 They were murky yet still beautifully bright； despite the broken blood vessels and the wetness； and he looked at me softly and wordlessly for a while； as if he had no cause to move； as if I were a vision near to his dreams。
I felt the hood fall back from my head and I did nothing to stop it。 I couldn't see what he saw； but I knew what it was…his son； with a cleanshaven face； such as his son had had when this man knew him； and long loose auburn hair in snow…dusted waves。
Beyond； their bodies mere bulky outlines against the huge blaze of the fire； the others sang or talked。 And the wine flowed。
Nothing came between me and this moment； between me and this man who had tried hard to bring down the Tatars； who had sent one arrow after another sailing at his enemies； even as their arrows rained down upon him in vain。
〃They never wounded you；〃 I whispered。 〃I love you and only now do I know how strong you were。〃 Was my voice even audible？
He blinked as he looked at me； and then I saw his tongue roll out along his lips。 His lips were bright； like coral； shining through the heavy red fringe of mustache and beard。
〃They wounded me；〃 he said in a low voice； small but not weak。 〃They got me； twice they got me； in the shoulder and in the arm。 But they didn't kill me； and they didn't let go of Andrei。 I fell off my horse。 I got up。 They never got me in the legs。 I ran after them。 I ran and ran and I kept shooting。 I had a cursed arrow sticking right out of my right shoulder here。〃
His hand appeared from beneath the fur and he placed it up on the dark curve of his right shoulder。
〃I kept shooting。 I didn't even feel it。 I saw them ride away。 They took him。 I don't even know if he was alive。 I don't know。 Would they have bothered to take him if they had shot him？ There were arrows everywhere。 The sky rained arrows！ There must have been fifty of them。 They killed every other man！ I told the others； You have to keep shooting； don't stop even for an instant； don't cower； shoot and shoot and shoot； and when you have no more arrows； bring up your sword and go for them； ride straight into them； get down； get down close to your horse's head and ride into them。 Well； maybe they did。 I don't know。〃
He lowered his lids。 He glanced around。 He wanted to get up； and then he looked at me。
〃Give me something to drink。 Buy me something decent。 The man has Spanish sack。 Get me some of that； a bottle of sack。 Hell； in the old days； I laid in wait for the traders out there in the river； and I never had to buy anything from any man。 Get me a bottle of sack。 I can see you're rich。〃
〃Do you know who I am？〃 I asked。
He looked at me in plain confusion。 This hadn't even occurred to him； this question。
〃You e from the castle。 You speak with the accent of the Lithuanians。 I don't care who you are。 Buy me some wine。〃
〃With the accent of the Lithuanians？〃 I asked softly。 〃What a dreadful thing。 I think it's the accent of a Venetian； and I'm ashamed。〃
〃Venetian？ Well； don't be。 God knows they tried to save Constantinople； they tried。 Everything's gone to Hell。 The world will end in flame。 Get me some sack before it ends； all right？〃
I stood up。 Did I have some more money？ I was puzzling over it when the dark silent figure of my Master loomed over me and he handed me the bottle of Spanish sack； uncorked and ready for my Father to drink。
I sighed。 The smell of it meant nothing to me now； but I knew that it was fine good stuff； and besides it was what he wanted。
He had meantime sat up on the bench； staring straight at the bottle as it hung from my hand。 He reached out for it； and took it and drank it as thirstily as I drink blood。
〃Take a good look at me；〃 I said。
〃It's too dark in here； idiot；〃 he said。 〃How can I take a good look at anything？ Hmmm； but this is good。 Thank you。〃
Suddenly； he paused with the bottle just beneath his lips。 It was a strange thing the way in which he paused。 It was as if he were in the forest； and he'd just sensed a bear ing up on him； or some other lethal beast。 He froze； as it were； with the bottle in hand； and only his eyes moved as he looked up at me。
〃Andrei；〃 he whispered。
〃I'm alive； Father；〃 I said gently。 〃They didn't kill me。 They took me for booty and sold me for profit。 And I was taken by ship south and north again and up to the city of Venice； and that is where I live now。〃
His eyes were calm。 Indeed； a beautiful serenity settled over him。 He was far too drunk for his reason to revolt or for cheap surprise to delight him。 On the contrary； the truth stole in and over him in a wave； subduing him； and he understood all of its ramifications； that I had not suffered； that I was rich； I was well。
〃I was lost； Sir；〃 I said in the same gentle whisper； which surely was only audible to him。 〃I was lost； yes； but found by another； a kindly man； and was restored； and have never suffered since。 I've journeyed a long time to tell you this； Father。 I never knew you were alive。 I never dreamed。 I mean； I thought you'd died that day when all the world died for me。 And now I'm e here to tell you that you must never； never grieve for me。〃
〃Andrei；〃 he whispered； but there was no change in his face。 There was only the sedate wonder。 He sat still； both hands on the bottle which he had lowered to his lap； his huge shoulders very straight； and his flowing red and gray hair as long as I'd ever seen it； melting into the far of his cloak。
He was a beautiful； beautiful man。 I needed a monster's eyes to know it。 I needed a demon's vision to see the strength in his eyes coupled with the power in his giant frame。 Only the bloodshot eyes gave him away in his weakness。
〃Forget me now； Father；〃 I said。 〃Forget me； as if the monks had sent me away。 But remember this； on account of you； I shall never be buried in the muddy graves of the Monastery。 No； other things may befall me。 But that； I won't suffer。 Because of you； that you wouldn't have it； that you came that day and demanded I ride out with you； that I be your son。〃
I turned to go。 He shot forward； clasping the bottle by the neck in his left hand and clamping his powerful right hand over my wrist。 He pulled me down to him； as if I were a mere mortal； with his old strength and he pressed his lips against my bowed head。
Oh； God； don't let him know！ Don't let him sense any change in me！ I was desperate。 I closed my eyes。
But I was young； and not so hard and cold as my Master； no； not even by half or a half of that half。 And he felt only the softness of my hair； and perhaps a cold icy softness； redolent of winter； to my skin。
〃Andrei； my angel child； my gifted and golden son！〃
I turned around and clasped him firmly with my left arm。 I kissed him all over his head in a way I would never； never have done as a child。 I held him to my heart。
〃Father； don't drink anymore；〃 I said in his ear。 〃Get up and be the hunter again。 Be what you