Avtandil charged across the plains, closing the distance between himself and the Knight. As he rode, he wondered how best to approach the stranger.
“The man I chase has allowed no one to speak or reason with him. If he is a man, and not a Devi, perhaps he is mad. If I come to him now, it will only be for us to slaughter one another, for senseless conversation only enrages a madman more. In the end, either he will be more hidden to me, or I will be dead.”
“Yet, I have not suffered these years in vain to learn nothing. All things must rest, so I will follow him until he stops. Then I will watch his behavior from a distance. If I am patient, I may determine what he is and find a way to meet him.”
For two days and nights, they traveled in this manner. One riding before, and the other behind, like the moon chasing the sun. They were pitiable, despite their beauty and grace. One cried for his own mysterious reasons, and the other for both of their plights. Though weary, neither stopped nor rested.
On the evening of the third day, they came to a large forest surrounding a tall outcropping of rocks. A stream flowed from the peaks and wound off into the distance. This was where the dark stranger went. He passed through a wall of reeds and then beneath towering trees before making his way to the caves nestled in the heights.
Curious to see more before showing himself, Avtandil stopped at the edge of the forest and climbed a tree. From there, he watched as the Knight rode up and dismounted. On his arrival, a maiden wearing black came out to greet him. He embraced her neck with his arm before stepping away and crying out in woe.
“Sister Asmath, I fear all our bridges have fallen into the sea. We will never find her. She will be consumed and forever lost to us.”
Tears rained from his jet lashes as he beat his chest in dismay, and the young woman fainted, but he caught her as she fell. When she woke, they cried together, their lament echoing pitifully from the rocks and hills.
Avtandil looked in wonder at their behavior. He had no idea what tragedy wounded them so profoundly, but now he was certain it was a man he chased. Though he heard the maiden’s name, he still did not know who the man was. More, he did not know how he would learn more from either of them when they were both so distraught.
As he looked on, the maid composed herself. She removed the saddle and gear from his steed and led it into the cave. When she came back, she unbuckled the Knight’s armor, which he carried in. She followed behind, and they did not come out again that day.
At dawn, still clothed in black, she brought the horse out again and saddled it, polishing the bridle with her veil before going back in. After a time, the Knight came out, and without a word, she helped him buckle his breastplate on. Neither of them made a sound, as though they prepared themselves for a funeral procession. When the buckles were done, she embraced him, and he kissed her forehead.
Then he turned and rode off, crossing the stream as he passed under the trees the same way he entered the day before. She cried as he left, her delicate shoulders crumpled beneath the weight of her grief.
The sight of him passing by moved Avtandil. Though the stranger’s mustaches had hardly grown, he was a marvel to behold, shining like the son of Heaven. There were few men with such grace and strength. Surely, he could kill a lion like a cat killing a mouse.
As the youth disappeared into the distance, an idea came to Avtandil.
“It would seem this Knight is often gone and never stays long, yet she spends her days in these caves. No doubt she is a prisoner to the sorrow her heart carries. Once he is out of sight, I will ride up, pretending to be him. Then, when she comes out, I will grab her and share my story.”
“When she knows the truth of who I am, I can convince her to tell me his tale. In this way, I will not be forced to strike him with my sword nor be pierced by his. Truly, God could not have done better for me than this.”
His course of action decided, he climbed down the tree and mounted his horse, riding to the mouth of the cave and making as much noise as possible. Almost immediately, the tear-faced girl ran out. She thought the sound of his steed was the return of the morose youth, but she was mistaken. She did not recognize the face of the man in front of her. He was a stranger and seeing him filled her with terror.