In one large and rich village lived three Atazhukaev brothers, ruling nobles, to whose authority the entire village was subject. The main wealth of all the inhabitants of the aul, as well as the Atazhukais, were huge herds of horses of the best breed, which they were proud of and cherished like the apple of their eye.
One day, when the entire village was celebrating the end of plowing, in the midst of the feast, frightened shepherds came running and reported that three giants had suddenly appeared in the field and stole all the cattle grazing in the meadows.
Stunned by such a terrible misfortune, the residents of the village, together with the elder Atazhukaev, immediately rushed in pursuit of the kidnappers. Having left the village, they saw dust swirling in the distance, apparently raised by stolen herds.
Soon the inhabitants of the village caught up with the kidnappers, three huge giants, and entered into battle with them. The hot battle did not last long: most of the villagers were killed, and the rest fled in panic back to the village, leaving their herds in the hands of the giants. Among the fallen was the elder brother of the Ata-Zhukaevs.
The offended residents grieved for a long time, but they could not help their grief and decided to better protect their herds in the future.
A year passed, the holiday of the end of plowing came again, and the cheerful inhabitants of the village noisily feasted, forgetting their recent grief. Suddenly, in the midst of the fun, they were again struck by the terrible news that their cattle had again been stolen by the same three giants. The same pursuit of the village residents after the kidnappers took place, this time the middle brother of the Atazhukaevs was at the head of the pursuers. But cruel fate was inexorable: more than half of the brave pursuers, along with Atazhukaev, were cut down, and the rest fled back. All the livestock again went to the giants.
The inhabitants of the village were completely depressed: the songs fell silent, the games died down, the youth looked sadly, everyone had no time for fun, everyone was looking forward to summer with fear and sent out prayers to Allah to protect their hard-earned wealth from daring robbers.
The Atazhukaevs grieved the most: they lost almost all their wealth, and after the death of their two older brothers, who were childless, their family almost died out; all hope now lay on the younger Atazhukaev, who had a young wife.
Spring finally arrived, and the usual feast was appointed at the end of the plowing. In case of an attack, reinforced security was assigned to the grazing herds. But nothing helped: as before, the last livestock of the residents was stolen, and they themselves, led by the younger Atazhukaev, rushed after the kidnappers. The pursuers were almost all killed; Among them, the last of the Atazhukaev family was killed.
The devastated village fell silent, sadness wrapped the orphaned saklyas in a mourning shroud; the young wife of the last Atazhukaev was killed most of all; but Allah took pity on her, and the moment she saw the corpse of her beloved husband, she felt pregnant.
“Great is the mercy of Allah,” thought the young woman. “If I give birth to a boy, then the Atazhukaev family will not fade away and there will be someone to take revenge on the enemies for their father and uncles.”
And she waited with hope and fear for the birth of a child.
A few months later, Atazhukaeva gave birth to a son, a beautiful, strong boy, named Anzau at his mother’s request. Together with the young mother, the entire village rejoiced and praised Allah. From that time on, the raids of the villains stopped, and the village gradually began to grow richer and the population to swell.
Twelve years have passed since the death of the last Atazhukaev. Over these years, the tiny child, a scion of the Atazhukaev family, turned into a strong, handsome boy, more like an adult youth. He was tall and slender, and on his beautiful face lay the stamp of intelligence and unyielding energy. Atazhukaeva passionately loved her son, and all the inhabitants of the village, young and old, admired and were proud of him.
Anzaur was wayward and hot-tempered, but at the same time a generous and kind boy. In all games, he amazed with his agility, eye accuracy and muscle strength; his playmates were proud of him and were not at all offended, seeing him always as a winner. But one day, while playing with his comrades, he quarreled with one of them and beat him badly.
“You are ashamed to beat me,” said the offended man, “instead of fighting, you would better ask your mother who stole your herds and deprived you of your father and two uncles!”
Hearing such words, Anzaur rushed like an arrow to his house and, finding his mother, told her:
“I’m very unwell, and it would be better if I go to bed, and you prepare some mamris for me right now.”
Anzaur's mother, accustomed to immediately fulfilling all her son's wishes, immediately began preparing the ordered dish. When the mamris was ready, she put it in a deep earthenware bowl and took it to her son’s room.
Anzaur lay on the ottoman, pretending to be sick.
“Here, my son, is the mamris you asked for!” – said Atazhukaeva.
“I’m sick and I can’t hold a spoon—feed me from your hands,” Anzaur said and, when the mother extended her hand to the bowl of food, he quickly grabbed her hand and lowered her hand into the hot mamris. Atazhukaeva screamed in unbearable pain.
- A! Are you hurt? – the son exclaimed angrily. “And my heart hurts even more because you are hiding the truth about the fate of my father!” Swear to tell me everything and I will let go of your hand.
Atazhukaeva, experiencing terrible pain from the burn, swore an oath not to hide anything and to tell the whole truth. Anzaur released his mother's hand and ordered her to tell everything in detail. Then she told her son everything about the three sad years that preceded his birth.
- Why did you hide this from me until now? Am I not the last of the Atazhukaev family, and am I not responsible for taking revenge on the villains for the death of my father and uncles and for the stolen herd? – Anzaur asked his mother menacingly.
- Oh, my son! – the woman exclaimed hotly. “It’s not a sin for you to tell all this to me, your mother!” Wasn’t it for revenge that I raised and took care of you, and haven’t I lived all these years with the sole hope of raising a hero strong in spirit and body, capable of taking revenge on cruel villains over time! But you were still too young, and I patiently waited for the moment when you would turn into a young man.
“Okay, I believe you,” Anzaur said. “Forgive me for the suffering I caused you and immediately get me a good horse, and also prepare provisions for the long journey.”
“I’ll prepare provisions for you,” said Atazhukaeva, “but we don’t have horses, you know that yourself.”
- Well, it’s okay, I’ll get myself a horse; Just don't be late with the provisions.
With these words, taking the bridle, Anzaur went into the field where herds of horses from the aul residents were grazing. Entering the middle of the herd, the young man shook his bridle, and a roan horse with an Atazhukaevsky brand immediately appeared in front of him, but it was so bad in appearance that it was disgusting to look at it. Anzaur shook his bridle a second time, and again the same roan horse appeared before him; he shook the bridle a third time and the same horse appeared again.
- Well, apparently, my fate is this: I am the last of the Atazhukaev family! The one that Allah sends is the one you should take.
Mounting his roan horse, Anzaur hurried to his home, loaded all the provisions his mother had prepared, said goodbye to her and set off on his way.
The beautiful Anzaur was happy in his soul - for the first time he felt like a completely free adult youth and was burning with a thirst for revenge on the killers of loved ones. He rode for a long time along the plain, listening to the murmur of streams and the singing of birds and vigilantly peering into the mysterious distance. There, far ahead, a high mountain could be seen, all emerald from the young grass that covered it and full of colorful flowers. Anzaur decided to drive to the very top of this mountain to inspect the area. Approaching the base of the mountain, he noticed a horseman approaching the same mountain along a different road. Having climbed to the top of the mountain, Anzaur encountered a stranger who rode in on his horse from the other side.
They exchanged greetings, and the stranger, who turned out to be an elderly man, asked Anzaur where he was going and on what business. Anzaur, seeing a decent person in the stranger, frankly told him about the purpose of his journey.
“You’ve got a big idea in mind,” said the stranger, after listening to Anzaur, “take me to help, maybe I’ll be useful to you.”
“Thank you, good man,” the young man replied, “I accept your offer with pleasure.” - And they went together.
The horsemen rode for a long time or a short time, and finally a dense forest appeared blue in front of them: they decided to ride into its thicket and find out if anyone lived there. With great difficulty the horses made their way among the densely overgrown and intertwined bushes, avoiding clumps of ancient trees that blocked their path. Finally the forest began to thin out, and the travelers saw a small mountain, and under the mountain - a house, surrounded by a strong fence, with a large base in the yard for horses. Anzaur invited his friend to drive up to the house itself and take a good look at everything.
Having driven around the house and looking into the yard and at the base, Anzaur was convinced that at the moment the inhabitants of the home were not at home, but the fact that people lived here could be seen from the fact that everything in the yard was clean and tidy. Having examined everything in detail, Anzaur turned to his companion:
“You stay here and rest, and I’ll go and see if there are any horses nearby - this base was obviously built for a huge herd.”
And indeed, the young man’s assumption was soon justified: not far from the house there was a vast clearing, all surrounded by huge branchy trees growing closely next to each other, and in the clearing, covered with lush, fragrant grass, a huge herd of horses was grazing. There were also very simple riding horses, and there were also purebred thoroughbred horses, sharply different from others in their beauty and ease of movement.
The heart of Anzaur, who had become enchanted, began to beat strongly, and he involuntarily thought: “Aren’t these wonderful horses my father and uncles?” And, entering the middle of the herd, Anzaur began to carefully examine the horses. Imagine his joy when he saw that all the most beautiful horses had the Atazhukaevsky brand on them! Undoubtedly, these were the same priceless herds of horses that his family was so proud of and which were so mercilessly recaptured by unknown robbers. Hot blood rushed to Anzaur's head, and his eyes flashed with anger.
- Oh, Allah, help me punish the villains! – he exclaimed, clutching the hilt of his sword in impotent rage.
Returning to the house where his companion was resting, Anzaur conveyed his observations to him and reported that he had found precious family herds.
“Now, my friend,” he said, “I need to prepare to meet the owners of this home with dignity and repay them as they deserve.”
“Use me in whatever way is best for you,” the comrade answered, “for my part, I am ready to help you in every possible way.”
- Thank you! Let us first tie our horses to the trees; then I’ll go and, just in case, drive all the herds into the base, and you choose the tallest oak tree, climb to its top and watch to see if any of my villains show up, so that I can meet the enemy with dignity.
Having given this order and tying his roan spear to a tree, Anzaur went to drive the herds into the base. The horses willingly and obediently went to the house, having in front of them three stallions of wondrous beauty and a rare breed, wearing the Atazhukaevsky brand.
Having driven all the herds into the base and locked it tightly, Anzaur asked his companion if he saw anything suspicious in the thicket of the forest.
“I don’t see anything yet,” answered the comrade from the top of the oak tree, “but I hear some kind of vague noise and crackling sound, like horse hooves.”
- Look, watch carefully, while I get ready for battle. – And Anzaur began to sharpen his sword.
- Get ready quickly! – Anzaura’s comrade suddenly shouted. - A terrible giant is coming!
- I'm not afraid of him! – the young man exclaimed proudly.
At that time, a terrible giant rode into the clearing and, seeing an unfamiliar young man holding a naked sword in his hand, asked him sternly:
-Who are you, impudent one, and what do you need in our domain?
– Which of us is more daring, my sword will answer you! Come fight with me! I came here to wash away the blood of my father and to punish you for the wealth you took!
- Oh, you, such a boy! – the giant thundered with mockery in his voice. – Don’t you really want to measure your strength with me?! This will be fun!
And the monstrous giant burst out laughing at the last words. His laughter, like roaring thunder, spread far through the forest.
- Well, come out! Let's play!
Before the giant could swing his sword, he was already lying at Aznaur’s feet with his head severed.
Happy and satisfied, Anzaur hastily set to work: having torn off all the skin from the giant, he filled the leather bag halfway with the blood of the dead man, and threw the meat and bones into the ravine. He had barely finished his work when his comrade again warned Anzaur about the approach of the second giant.
- Nothing! Allah will help me deal with the villain this time too.
And indeed, it turned out as the young man said: soon the other giant was lying on the ground with a severed skull. Having cut the body of the dead man, Anzaur poured part of the giant’s blood into the leather bag that contained the blood of the first enemy, and threw the body of the dead man into the ditch. Having finished this work, the young man shouted to his comrade to get down from the tree.
“Well,” he said, “I finished off the two giants quite successfully; now we have to wait for the third; but I'm sure he won't come soon; I need rest: I need sound sleep; While I sleep, take good care of my roan stallion; If you protect him until I wake up, everything will end well, but if you don’t guard him, then I’ll be in trouble: even though I’m less of a giant, I myself will be dangerously wounded.
“Don’t worry, brave young man,” his comrade answered him. - Sleep well! While you rest, I will not take my eyes off your horse.
But as soon as Anzaur closed his tired eyes and fell into deep sleep, his companion also began to feel extraordinary fatigue throughout his body. “I’ll lie down,” he thought, “after all, this won’t in the least prevent me from staying awake and keeping a watchful eye on the horse.”
But as soon as he lay down under a tree, not far from the tethered roan stallion, a deep sleep instantly took possession of him.
While both travelers were sleeping, a third giant suddenly appeared. “Eh, someone was already in charge here,” he thought, seeing a stallion tied to a tree. Having examined the roan horse and finding the Atazhukaev brand on it, the giant became alarmed and, not knowing about the fate of the first two giants, decided to immediately notify them of what had happened. Without hesitation, the giant untied the roan stallion from the tree, sat on it and rode off into the thicket of the forest to look for his comrades.
Meanwhile, Anzaur woke up and first of all rushed to the place where the horse was tied.
- Oh, misfortune! – the young man exclaimed sadly. “What I feared happened: my horse disappeared, and with it my strength was reduced by half!”
And he began to wake up his sleeping comrade:
- Get up quickly! Now a giant is about to appear in the clearing, and I have a hard fight ahead of me, because you didn’t save my roan.
“Oh, forgive me, young man,” the comrade exclaimed in confusion, “but I swear to you, I’m not to blame for what happened!”
– I don’t blame you. Allah will help me in a just cause. Just promise to fulfill my request: during the duel the giant will inflict a severe wound on me, although he himself will fall, cut by my sword; and so, to save me from death, after the fight you immediately put me in a bag of blood. I must lie in this bag for fifteen days, but on the sixteenth I will come out of it completely healthy and stronger than before, since the blood of the killed will pass into me. During my illness, you should carefully watch the herds. If you get tired of waiting for my recovery, then take all the herds with you and leave here.
Before Anzaur had time to make his final orders, a noise and crackling of breaking branches was heard, and a giant rode into the clearing on a roan stallion. Seeing Anzaur, he shouted to him furiously:
- So it was you, impudent boy, who deprived me of my comrades?! Well, you're in trouble now!
And with these words, the enraged monster rushed with a raised sword at Anzaur, and a mortal battle began. For a long time they fought with varying success; but while Anzaur was delivering a fatal blow to the giant’s head with his sword, the young man himself swayed from the enemy’s blow and, as if knocked down, also fell to the ground. There was instant silence. Anzaur's comrade, who had been listening and watching the struggle all the time, came out from behind the trees and carefully approached those lying down. Having made sure that the giant was killed, he boldly leaned over Anzaur and saw that life in the young man’s body was still glowing, like an inconspicuous spark.
Faithful to Anzaur’s orders, the comrade immediately lowered the body of the wounded man into a bag of blood and, considering himself to be the culprit of the misfortune, promised himself not to leave the forest until Anzaur’s complete recovery.
Finally fifteen days passed; on the sixteenth, a young man came out of the bag and appeared before the eyes of his amazed comrade. There was no trace of illness left on Anzaur’s face: he had a flourishing appearance and amazed with his beauty and power.
- Well, thank you, comrade! - said Anzaur. -You were a true friend to me. Anyone else in your place would not have waited and would have stolen all the herds.
“You don’t have to thank me for anything, you’ve already paid enough because of my mistake,” the comrade answered.
After that, they began to prepare for the return journey. Soon there was noise and crackling through the forest - it was herds of horses walking.
Anzaur rode cheerfully and joyfully with his comrade, and unnoticed they arrived at the top of the mountain where their meeting took place.
“Well, comrade,” Anzaur turned to his companion, “now it’s time for us to part; but before we shake hands for the last time, I would like to thank you for your selfless friendship. Choose any: either three famous stallions with the Atazhukaevsky brand, or the entire Atazhukaevsky herd, except for these three noble animals.
Anzaur's companion chose the entire herd. Having thanked and said goodbye, he drove ahead of him the selected Atazhukai herd, and Anzaur rode in the opposite direction, driving ahead of him the herds of residents of his village and the three treasured stallions.
Before both travelers had time to leave the mountain, the same thought simultaneously occurred to both of them, that during all this time neither one nor the other even thought to give their names, and they decided now to correct their mistake, and therefore it is not surprising that both again gathered at the top of the mountain.
Comrade Anzaura identified himself and said among other things that he has a daughter, an amazing beauty, but very capricious; that she came up with the idea of marrying someone who would fit the clothes she had sewn with her own hands.
“And I’ve been traveling from one place to another for so long, but I still haven’t found a single person who would fit the clothes my daughter sewed,” said Comrade Anzaura.
“Let me try it on,” the young man suggested with a laugh and began to put on the entire suit, sewn by the hands of a beauty unknown to him.
Imagine the surprise of the girl’s father when he saw that the entire outfit fit on Anzaur, as if tailored to measure!
- Well, you can be my son-in-law! – he exclaimed joyfully.
- Well? I agree. Now take one of the three stallions with you - this will be part of the bride price for your daughter, and I will bring the rest of the stallions myself when I come to get married.
After this, the future relatives, happy and cheerful, went in different directions.
One day, the boys, shepherds of the village in which Anzaur’s mother lived, saw in the distance a huge column of swirling dust; Frightened, they ran to the village screaming and crying. When the residents asked what they were afraid of, the shepherds replied that a large army was probably coming to their village, since the column of dust they saw was too large.
The frightened residents abandoned their work and ran into the field to meet the army.
Imagine their surprise when, peering into the distance, they saw fast running horses in the clouds of dust! It never occurred to anyone that these were returning their herds, taken away by the brave Anzaur, whom they considered dead long ago.
There was even greater joy and happiness when, after some time, the hero Anzaur himself appeared before the astonished inhabitants of the aul and handed over to them, safe and sound, the herds that had greatly multiplied during the many years of their absence. But Anzaur’s mother, who considered him long dead and even mourned for him, rejoiced most of all.
After the first minutes of the meeting, the young hero told his mother and all the inhabitants of the village about his adventures, and also that he was already the happy groom of a beauty unknown to him.
- Oh my son! – Atazhukaeva exclaimed with joy. – You are my glory and pride! My tears and sadness were in vain - the Atazhukaev family did not fade away, but grew stronger and magnified in your face, my brave Anzaur!
All the inhabitants of the aul also glorified the young Atazhukaev for his extraordinary exploits, and in honor of his arrival, as well as the joy that they had received their long-vanished herds safe, they began to organize feasts at which the brave Anzaur was a welcome guest of honor everywhere.
Finally, when all the fun was over, Atazhukaev began to get ready to go after his bride. Riding out on his treasured roan horse and leading two famous stallions from his father’s herd, he quickly approached the girl’s village.
Approaching the village itself, Anzaur changed into clothes sewn by the hands of a beauty so that she could immediately recognize him as her fiancé.
When the first sakli of the aul appeared in front of him, his attention was attracted by cheerful groups of residents. Some danced to the sound of instruments, others sang, others competed in running, and everyone was dressed in their best clothes. Anzaur was surprised. “What happened in the village?” - he thought and, riding past the dancers, he stopped his horse and asked a question:
“Please, good people, explain to me the reason for your joy, so that I, a traveler, can share the fun with you.”
Seeing the beautiful young man in front of them, the dancers surrounded him with respect and curiosity, admiring the hero with sincere admiration and admiring his wonderful stallions.
“We don’t know who you are, beautiful stranger; “But your appearance inspires respect in all of us, and we will willingly satisfy your curiosity,” those around said respectfully. “We are celebrating the wedding of the daughter of a ruling nobleman. – And they named the name of Anzaur’s future father-in-law.
Atazhukaev flushed with anger, but restrained himself and calmly asked:
– Who does the girl marry?
– Oh, her fiancé is a very noble and powerful Kalmyk khan. He caught a glimpse of the girl and, captivated by her extraordinary beauty, takes her by force as his wife. Go, you too, wonderful traveler, to the bride’s house; you will be received there with honor, and you will be a welcome guest to everyone.
Thanking the dancers for their explanations, Anzaur directed his roan, following the instructions of the residents, to the nobleman’s house.
-Who is this handsome hero? It's a pity that he hasn't seen the bride before! He would be a real husband for such a beauty, not like the old khan! – the villagers reasoned among themselves after the young man’s departure.
-Have you seen his horses? - said others. – The Khan’s horses are wonderful, but in comparison with these stallions they are no good. But why does he himself ride such a nondescript horse? - they were perplexed. – Yes, this traveler is probably not an ordinary person. – And for a long time the feasting residents of the village talked about Anzaur.
At that time, the young man himself was already approaching the bride’s house and was greeted with honor by the guests, among whom only one owner was not visible. Anzaur, despite his anger, spoke cordially with the guests and willingly took part in their fun. When the dancing began, he stepped into the middle of the circle and began to dance. Everyone looked at the beautiful hero with admiration and were amazed at the dexterity and beauty of his movements.
The beautiful bride, having learned about the arrival of a new guest and eager to look at him, came out to the guests and, seeing Anzaur dancing in clothes sewn by her hands, immediately recognized him as her real groom and, boldly stepping forward, spun in front of Atazhukaev in a merry dance.
“Oh, that’s who my bride is! – thought Anzaur. “Well, I won’t give such a beauty to anyone voluntarily and I won’t be afraid of any khan.”
While dancing, the beautiful girl quietly handed her ring to Anzaur and whispered to him:
- Take me away! I'll be on the balcony waiting for you.
“Be calm,” Anzaur answered her just as quietly. - I will take you away, and you will be my wife.
None of the guests could hear these negotiations, since everyone was captivated by watching the dance of the beautiful couple, and involuntarily all the feasters had the same thought: “This hero would be a real husband for such a beauty!” When the dancing ended and the girl went to her half, Anzaur quietly crept through the crowd and went out into the courtyard; here he prepared his horses and began to wait until he could kidnap the girl amid the noise at the feast. And so, seizing a convenient moment, he approached the balcony on which the beauty was sitting, surrounded by her friends, broke the boards of the balcony with one blow of his fist, grabbed the girl, put her on one of his horses, sat down with her and, holding the treasured roan in the lead, quickly rushed out of the village.
The beauty's friends alarmed the feasters with their screams; Questions began, turmoil arose, and the groom himself, the Kalmyk Khan, ordered his entourage and bodyguards to immediately mount their horses and rush after the daring kidnapper of the Khan’s bride. The girl’s father was also supposed to go with them, not yet knowing that the thief was Anzaur, his daughter’s legal fiancé.
No matter how the offended khan hurried, no matter how the messengers hurried their Kalmyk horses, they still could not catch up with Anzaur.
Finally not seeing himself being chased, he stopped his horse and said to the beauty:
“As long as my roan is with me, we have nothing to fear.” The riders who came after us are probably now scattered all over the road, and it will be easy for me to kill them all one by one; If only you are not afraid, then I will roughly punish them.
“With you, my hero, I’m not afraid of anything!” – the beauty answered proudly. And they went back to the village.
And indeed, this is what happened, as Anzaur said. Along the way, they caught up with the riders traveling back, and Atazhukaev easily dealt with them with the help of his sword.
The very last of the pursued riders was the beauty's father himself. He rode the same stallion that he received from Anzaur as a dowry for his daughter. Atazhukaev recognized his stallion, but could not recognize the bride’s father in the rider, since he was sitting with his back to him, and was about to deal him a fatal blow, but at that time the rider turned around, and Anzaur’s hand, which had directed the blow, dropped by itself.
Anzaur began to reproach his future father-in-law for betraying his word.
“Don’t blame me, my friend,” said the beauty’s father, “I wouldn’t have won anything by my persistence in front of the powerful old khan: should I argue with such a strong opponent?!” I couldn’t even notify you about what happened, because the khan was in too much of a hurry with the wedding. But don’t worry: should you, such a hero who defeated even giants, be afraid of the old khan?
“My sword will show him how afraid I am of him!” – Anzaur answered passionately.
- No, this should not be done while he is in my house. “The khan has many close associates, bodyguards and servants who are deeply devoted to him, and they can cruelly take out their anger on my family and on the innocent inhabitants of my village; But I’d better give you this advice: I’ll take my daughter with me to the village and there I’ll tell the khan that I recaptured her and killed the daring kidnapper. For this time, hide somewhere nearby, with one of my subordinates; no one will give you up, and when the khan sets off, taking my daughter to his khanate, you and I and other daredevils will catch up with the wedding train, kidnap your daughter, and you will take her right there to your village. This way everything will be done quietly, without bloodshed.
“Okay, I’ll follow your advice,” Anzaur answered, “but I can’t guarantee for myself that I’ll leave my blood enemy alive.”
Arriving in the village with his daughter, the bride's father reassured the khan with a story about the death of his daughter's kidnapper. The delighted khan began to hurry his entourage to leave. By evening everything was ready, and the beauty was forced to hit the road. The road along which they had to go to the Kalmyk Khanate ran through the forest. And so, when part of the wedding train had already disappeared into the thicket of trees, Anzaur and his future father-in-law crept up to the riders with the goal of kidnapping the girl; but their presence was noticed by those close to the khan, and a hot battle ensued, in which even the khan himself took part.
But it was difficult for the khan’s bodyguards to fight such a hero as Anzaur. Their ranks melted away with amazing speed from the sword of Anzaur and those daredevils who helped him. At the end of the battle, only a small handful of people remained, closely rallied around the khan and his bride. In the last battle, the bride's father fell, struck by a mortal blow. Seeing her father’s body covered in blood, the beauty pulled out a sword and began to strike the khan’s bodyguards, avenging the murdered man.
The last of the defenders remained the khan, and he sold his life dearly: while the sharp sword of Anzaur dealt him a mortal blow, Anzaur himself fell, struck by the sword of the old khan.
The beauty, with a sorrowful cry, bent over the hero and began to examine his wound. Soon a ray of hope and joy penetrated her heart: it seemed to her that Anzaur was breathing.
Having washed his wound, bandaged it and refreshed the wounded man’s parched mouth with cold water, the girl became convinced that the hero was alive, but required immediate help. Without wasting time, she first laid the body of the murdered father on the horse, then carefully transferred the wounded Anzaur onto a roan horse and, sitting next to him, rode to the village. Here, having buried her murdered father, the beauty began to care for the wounded man.
Soon, healing herbs and good care put her back on her feet. sick Aizaur. When he was completely strong, a cheerful wedding was celebrated, and the young couple, taking with them the entire dowry, as well as that herd of horses with the Atazhukaevsky brand, which was presented by Anzaur to the beauty’s father after the fight with the giants, went to the hero’s native village, where his old mother was eagerly waiting for him.
There is nothing to say about the joy with which the heart of Anzaur’s happy mother was full at the sight of her heroic son and beautiful daughter-in-law. And all the inhabitants of the aul, having learned about his new exploits, arranged a big feast at which they honored him and sang songs of praise to him, glorifying his outlandish exploits and expressing wishes for a long and happy life.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru