The Boy Who Stole Attila's Horse
Page 7
The previous days were very strange for him; the family home surrounded by an expectant crowd, and him, inside, alone, avoiding their gaze. And ultimately leaving, because that place could no longer be his and because he knew that his spirit was no longer close to what it had been before.
‘I’m back,’ he says.
He unravels the ropes and secures the ends to the stakes nailed into the ground. He takes the opposite end of one of them and ties it around his body, winding three circles around his waist and two more around his groin. An endless human tide observes the ceremony in complete silence, spilling out from the edges of the forest. He tosses the other end of the second rope into the well. Afterwards, he sits down on the edge. And while the night closes its gates above him, announcing the end of an era of darkness, blooming like a cluster of promises in his chest which, despite his death, will keep on growing, he wonders if he should cut the ropes and let himself fall, or if it would be better, after all, to retrieve the rotting corpse of his brother and hold him up as a symbol of insurrection, and for his anniversary to light the darkness with a tremor of footsteps and noise, and for us to wake up tomorrow from this grim dream with the courage of a rising sea, tearing down the walls that silenced us, regaining our ground, having our say.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This book, like the last one, is the product of much effort and affection. Given that I don’t know if I will ever have this opportunity again, I would like to thank all the people who, in one way or another, accompanied me in the process.
To my parents, Rafael and Nieves, for teaching me both to keep my feet on the ground and to lift myself up several hand spans above it; to my sister Adriana for her unstinting faith in me; to the old friends who followed the writing from close by or afar and who helped me: Izas, Jaime, Adriana, Pere, Ángela, Santi, Jesús, Galder, Igor, Ada, Ángel, Pablo and the Parretis Rafa and Mario; to Pedro de Hipérbole, my first passionate reader; to those who spread the word; to the Cantabrian and Mediterranean family.
I owe a special mention to the people of Libros del Silencio, above all my editor, Gonzalo, who believed in me, understood how to guide me, and allowed me to live out a dream. And not forgetting Irene (retrospectively), Marc and Pablo, who worked so hard over many weeks and treated me with respect and friendship. What immense talent you have, all of you.
Thank you to Koldo Asua for lighting the way.
And my thanks to Ana Cristina, for countless reasons: from Quinta da Regaleira to today, now, as someone is reading this page.
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Copyright
Pushkin Press
71–75 Shelton Street, London WC2H 9JQ
Original text © 2013 Iván Repila
Published by arrangement with The Ella Sher Literary Agency
English translation © 2015 Sophie Hughes
Originally published in Spanish as
El niño que robó el caballo de Atila
This translation first published by Pushkin Press in 2015
ISBN 978 1 782271 45 1
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