She cried out at the sight of Avtandil, trying to flee into the trees, but she was not fast enough. He leaped from his horse and seized her like a bird in a net, wrestling her to the ground. She wailed at the loss of her freedom, as all wild things do.
Her cries echoed and resounded from the rocks as she thrashed back and forth and shouted for help. She hoped to escape, but she was trapped. Like a rabbit caught in the talons of an eagle, she could not break the cage of his arms. Though she yelled and cried, no aid came.
Yet, he had underestimated her will to fight. Too late, he realized the capture he planned would only end in breaking the girl. Because of this, he released his grip and instead held her hands tightly. She stood and he begged her to stop struggling. When at last she relaxed, her tears flowed like spring rains.
Understanding he had overstepped himself, he tried to calm her by explaining his intent.
“Do not cry. I did not come here to hurt anyone. Ask yourself, what harm can I do to you which I had not already intended? You are a daughter of Eve, and I am Avtandil, a son of Adam. All I want is the answer to a question.”
“Today, you were with a man who has the face of an angel and the form of a spruce tree. You must tell me his story and who he is. This is all I ask, and I will leave you in peace.”
She looked at him, thinking what a fool he was. He did not realize her depth of will or resolve, but he would soon learn. Slowly she stopped crying and gathered the strength to answer.
“You, who I do not know, present yourself as a Knight, yet it was your rough hands which caught and hold me still. Why would I trust you? What else will you do or request when you get what you want? If you are not a madman, let go of me, and if you are mad, return to reason before your doom comes.”
“You ask me to tell you a private and difficult matter as if it were gossip, but this thing has never been written. Your time is wasted prying after what you cannot grasp. I will not be the vessel from which this story spills. Thus, stay your tongue, spare your hand, and release me.”
Unwilling to accept no for an answer, he thought he could make her understand if he spoke from his heart. Bearing a piece of his soul, he asked again.
“You have no idea where I am from or the woes I endured to get here. For three years, I searched for this man you call brother. In all this time, I did not find anyone who saw him. Now I found you, and though I overstepped myself, I must learn his story. Do not be shy. Speak to me, for I will not let you go until you tell me.”
Her voice turned towards the edges of anger as she spoke again. The words she responded with were sharp as daggers on the tender heart of Avtandil.
“You do not hear pleasant speech, so I will tell you directly. The sun you seek is not near us, but you knew this, or you would not dare to come here. There is nothing you can do to make me speak of him, no matter your actions! Now stop asking. Your questions annoy me like frost on the beard of an old man.”
Desperate to learn about the strange youth, he threw himself down and begged. He repeatedly implored her to understand the sacrifices he made in search of the man she now protected. Yet, she refused him, each time more shortly than the last. Finally, he could bear no more.
His indignation peaked, flushing his face, and turning his eyes to madness. He rose from his knees, grabbing her by the hair and drawing his sword in a single motion. She yelled out, at first in pain and after with surprise as he held the blade against her throat.
“How can I forgive your ill will? I begged for nothing more than words. Where is the harm in telling me this story? I would continue begging at your feet, but I see now my tears would be in vain. Tell me what I have asked, now, and I will go. Yet, should you refuse me, I will cut the head from your shoulders and leave your corpse to rot here!”
Though she was at his mercy, her anger could be contained no longer. She was disgusted by the barbarism he displayed. Her body shook with fury, and her eyes lit with fire as she spoke.
“You far exceed yourself in threatening force against me. If you do not kill me, I will not die. Instead, I will wait until he who you ask of has returned. At that time, my woe will pass, and yours begin. Yet, if you put your sword to use, I will have no head with which to speak. You are a fool of a man, for whatever you do, you will not find the answers you seek.”
“You deceive yourself into believing death would be the cause of my suffering. You understand nothing of me, and I do not know you. Better you bring ruin to me and end my misery, for it would release me from this endless weeping. The fjord of these tears might finally dry, and my wellspring of sorrow cease to exist. For there is no way you will compel me to give what is not mine to part with.”
As the last words escaped her lips, she pressed her neck against his sword, bringing him to his senses. He was forced to step back and drop the blade, noticing a red line across her throat where he had abused her. Aghast at allowing his emotions overcome reason, he wrestled with what he had done to Asmath, wondering to himself how he would ever win her trust now.
“Truly, it is a poor man who bears the title of Knight and behaves as I have. In my haste and anger, I wronged a woman I meant no harm to. Now, how will I find a way to her heart so she will speak to me again?”
Defeated by his own mistakes and her sharp words, he released her. Burdened by shame, he walked away and sat down. Unsure of how he might warm her to his cause, he began to weep. The stress of his long years finally caught up with him, and he looked up. His cheeks were wet and forlorn, and he spoke to her without demands for the first time.
“I am sorry. You are right. I overstepped myself, and do not know the road home now. My actions offended and angered you, though my intent was far different. For this, I do not know how I will survive.”