"Fire! Carcasses! excited shouts rang out over the village. But the fire was rapidly gaining strength and devouring everything in its path.
From the entrance gate came the booming and powerful sound of blows. Outside, someone was breaking them down, furiously inflicting heavy damage over and over. The sturdy logs cracked and splintered. Soon they broke down and crashed to the ground. Fierce warriors armed with curved, dull-gleaming scimitars burst through the open doorway, whistling and shouting.
Hadi's kin, half-naked, some holding spears and some swords, ran to meet the enemy and entered into a frenzied cabin. The silence of the night was replaced by screeching, clanking steel, and angry shouts.
Hadi watched from the height of the wall as his friend Martan pulled his sister Anhra out of his flaming Yurt by the hand and dragged her away from the fiercely fighting warriors. The fire, meanwhile, rose to the heavens. The air was filled with the many-voiced cries of women trying to extinguish the raging flames and the war cries of men.
Hadi immediately rolled down the stairs and, taking a deep breath, ran screaming to the gate, near which his father and brothers were fighting furiously. As he walked, he drew a dagger to help his family and cover their backs.
Meanwhile, Martan, one year old Hadi, tightly squeezing the little hand of his sister, continued to drag her, restless and sleepy, for the outskirts.![16438025.jpg]
https://author.today/work/34445
https://www.litres.ru/misha-shuklin/ahani/
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