Borte, having delved into the details of Jochi’s death, tired of crying and sorrowful experiences, walks alone in confusion, not able to find a place for herself. The old woman, Keikuat, as is customary among eastern women who conduct funeral rites, sits with her hair down, her hands on her hips, swaying. BORTE: Keikuat-apai, spread your bones again; what will they say this time? KEIKUAT: If the alignment is sorted for good, then the bones are good; if they are not sorted for good, then it is because the fortune-teller is bad. What I’m trying to say is, it is impossible to continually throw the bones – the alignment loses its intelligibility of interpretation. Maybe that’s why in the old days they used to say, ‘both a lie made by fate, and an unrevealed lie’. BORTE :You made me languish in anticipation of news not from the living, but from the deceased, oh, our Creator! Why am I, alone and miserable, so displeased that you squeeze out of me only a sigh and sorrows? Open up, Keikuat-apai, and tell me what the bones say? KEIKUAT: Behind a thin layer of dust, a foggy dot is barely visible. I have not yet figured out what this is. BORTE: Though vague, if only the message would come as soon as possible. The child inside me didn’t fit outside of me. Oh, this stigma, this “alien baby”, stuck as soon as you appeared in my womb, my colt. This slander deprived you of your khanate. Between the brothers I gave birth to discord, and then the gossip began: ‘He is preparing to seize the throne of his father,’ which planted suspicion in his father. One sage said, ‘Fear is the guardian of Kings,’ and you have fallen victim to such fear. There is a knock on the door. KEIKUAT: Someone seems to be knocking. BORTE: Yes, indeed, someone has come. The old woman Keikuat, having gathered the fortune-telling stones in a heap, slowly goes to the door and opens it. Enter Korshi the Warrior, confusion writ upon his face. In his hands he holds something wrapped in a rag. KORSHI: I came to talk to you, Borte-Khansha. BORTE: Well, of course you must. Ever since that time long ago, when I took the thirty girls home, you were deeply offended.
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