people were gone, only the white bones of men so frightened gaping eye sockets of the skull, which here and there, lying across his path. Wind living searched everywhere. Flew through the window frames in the wine cellar, where rows and rows of huge barrels of unfinished wine. He knew that the wine is there, because even on the tables were full of mugs. He knew that the surviving people come back and will finish wine. He peered into a luxurious palace, where the pools still not so long ago was splashing the water clear, and now lay sand and again trying to convince himself that the people will return here to clear pools, fountains start, grow flowers. But the days passed after day, were the years of the century. Crack walls of the city, a beautiful mosaic domes, like fish scales, flew down. Wind angry at people for what they did not return to collect and bury the remains of the brothers and the city once again give life to his presence. He cursed them and wanted to get even more to one of them. He certainly would punish him for such a folly – throw city gray jackals, these vile creatures that feed on carrion. Once anger at people become intolerable. Wind attacked the palm trees. He frantically tore their leaves, fruits, and was still only when he saw the sand broken one of them. He very grieved over it. Palma will never rose above desert. And then, finally, man. Oh, he’s out and the East Wind, to give it all to open the door to the secret treasure of the dead city, make man the lord of the palaces. Tir opened his eyes. High above the broad leaves rustled two palm trees, broken trunk, a third lying on the hot sand to the crown lakes. The evening sun rays stretched copper on trees which now resembled bronze column. Lakeland, which saved Tir from thirst, as if burned in the sunlight, throwing handfuls of gold coins, rabbits feet, pathetic grass that grew just something where there near the little lake. Pleasant coolness poured on the tortured body, returning to the reality of Tir. He looked up, then sat down and looked around. Unfamiliar place seemed ghostly vision. He rubbed his eyes. No, it’s not a mirage. The water here, there, then life. A wave of joy eyes watered. Tir fell to the ground. Hot tears rolled down doling Dirty cheeks. Tir gradually calmed down. Memory painted dark day’s journey. For a moment it seemed that it was a dream, a vision of the desert and the unbearable heat. He remembered everything that happened to him. Seven days without food and water under a withering sun of the desert – no, it cannot be repeated. Do not want even think about the continuation of the way. Though little lake water and gave him drink. But hunger was left. He saw in the sand a few round, the size of a human head, the fruit. Hardly picked up one, exhausted hands. He wanted to smash a coconut hit one of the other, but the venture failed. Only overpower even more, he collapsed with a nut in his hand in the shadow of palm trees on the soft sand. Catching his breath, Tir, as in a dream staggered slowly to his feet. View opened half filled with sand wall of a guard tower towering gate. Even now, the wall was still high. Tyr went to the gate closes baggy folds into the city. He, though not explicitly, still remembered that there was to the healing spring across the city through the open gate. And someone closed the door behind him, and maybe it made the wind?
– Hey-ho! Is there anyone? – Shouted Tir.
– Who-who-who? – Echoed through the city. Tir’s listened. Dead silence reigned there. Fear, like ants crawling on a swarm the back. As if someone’s gaze followed him. An unpleasant chills ran through his body. Tir involuntarily looked up. No one was not in a narrow loophole the Watchtower: “Probably, there in the darkness of the shadow sits this savage!.”, He thought.
Tir still moved forward. Comforting thought that if someone he wanted to find something that someone would already have done it. Cheered up these thoughts, he forcefully pushed the gate leaf. Bloodcurdling screech broke the silence. He saw a narrow street, in the middle of which could be seen distinctly human footprints. He is excited with joy looking at them, afraid of only one, and suddenly it a mirage? But the sigh of disappointment escaped from the emaciated chest, it’s his own trail! West Wind “sarcastically observes” pathetic, leather-wrapped human a skeleton, suddenly come to life in a ghost town. Stealthily, so as not to wake his longtime opponent of the Eastern wind, so the people who loved and defended, Western, when a man was lying senseless in the shade of palm trees, closed the gate leaf. Tir moved along the ruins. The sun almost touching
horizon, casting the surviving walls of the long shadows on the street. Need to find a home somewhere to gather strength. As I was struck by the surviving structure of a rectangular shape with a flat roof. Tir went there. He crossed the area, which ended in the street. Evening cool is eager body, but from the ruins of clay, both on the stove has cooled down, still smacked of heat. Black hole entrance wafted “mold” the dungeon. Tir the stone steps down to a spacious hall. Twilight of the indoor space of the room made it difficult to discern. Gradually his eyes adapted and Tir was able to see a short, round tables, covered with decayed rags, cups on the tables. Tir curiously approached. Bronze bowl with a thread made with great skill, were filled with sand. He took one and held it up for a better look over to the window, carving on bronze striking beauty. Last glare of the setting sun still penetrated the city and the remnants of light fell into the square hole of the window illuminating the gloom Zaal. On the table, next to the bowls were bowls. Hearth in the middle of the hall. There, on the circuit was a huge cauldron filled with sand.
– “Apparently this is the hall where the mob is going on holidays for entertainment events. – Tir – guessed it – then there must be a wine cellar!”
Tir almost groping got to the entrance to the cellar. Foot felt the first step in the darkness that enveloped the entrance to the basement, went down. There was groping explore the basement and soon came across a wet barrel, then another one, again and again. Below, on one of the barrels, he felt the wooden plug sticking out of the barrel, as the mote out of a tree trunk. Tyr tried to move her, to no avail. Then gather strength struck the foot traffic, there is no result. Fatigue fell upon a new force made drops on the cold and wet ground cellar. Hands in the dark looking for the support and stumbled upon a small stone. Tir was on his knees and felt the cork, hit it, trying to dislodge it. Knock tree stone silence woke. Thud of wood stone silence woke the dungeon, but cork resist. Slightly moving spirit, he resumed his pounding stone on wooden bitches. And bough broke. Forces again left him with his knees, he slid down and this time he found himself in a sticky wet and smelling delicious wine puddle. Tir touched the place where the broken tube. Oh! Miracle! there trickled wine! He set his hand and when without waiting in the palm would be enough wine, eagerly licking small portions with wet hands. This went on until the power finally left him… Tir came out of the cellar, he did not remember, but he had to spend the night at a round table at which He brushed his hand decayed rags with sand. Night came out cold. Sleep is coming, the heat by covering the body and disappear, threading needles cold. Tyr at such moments crook into a ball, pressing his feet and hands to his chest. “That morning! – He amused himself! – I will find fuel and light a fire the next night, it will be warm, the night will be warm. “From these thoughts Tir getting warmer, and again he forgot himself in his sleep. As the sun rose above the horizon and drove cool off. Sweet Dream swept Tir. first time in eight nights, he was fast asleep. I woke up only when the heat, extending its tentacles in the window, got to him, pulled the rest of sleep. Tir opened his eyes blinding shaft of light slashed like a blade. For a moment it seemed that a shadow flickered and disappeared. Tir jumped up and found that a piece of cotton patched in many places robe hid it at night. Looking around closely, he saw that the fire is smoldering under the cauldron, and from it comes the delicious smell. But to detect the presence of man, he could not. As if he is on fire in the hearth fire and cooked him a delicious blue of the game. Without hesitation Tir rushed to Kazan and scooping hot ladle blue left behind by someone, burning and choking, greedily ate the contents. And only when the bottom of a drop not left and hunger with a vengeance whipped eat several servings, he found that the food is no more…
Tir gradually regained strength. Day, one after another, stretched and repetitive sequences of the day and night. In the morning he found in a cauldron all large portions of soup, and one day even caught a piece of meat, daily activities likely it was meat
