BARS-BEG: THE BATTLE AT CHERNI SUNGA
The seventy-three-year-old Bars-beg had not dismounted from his horse for two days. The remaining warriors with him, wounded and sullen, awaited the Word: what to do next?
— The sky has punished us for our carelessness, — said the old kagan. — But we are warriors. We must not lose heart. Who will protect the people if not us?
After these words, the young warriors felt ashamed and were encouraged. In this most difficult hour, the kagan displayed extraordinary energy. It was as if grief had not touched him — he seemed to have become younger. Yet two of his brothers had died in the headquarters, one of his three adult sons had perished, and four warrior grandsons were lost. He himself had been wounded three times.
Bars-beg did not convene a council; now he commanded alone, decisively and authoritatively. This instilled confidence in the others: it meant he knew and hoped!
The kagan ordered the rescued families to be sent far north to the borders of the forest peoples. Messengers with the Arrow of War immediately rode out to the governors and clans, to all significant nomadic camps. The order was the same: all forces to gather at Cherni Sunga.
The second quarter after the night defeat had already passed. In the evening, a young moon rose over the gorges and ravines of Sunga. It shone on the Kyrgyz camp, on the rocks, the coniferous forests of "chern," and on the frozen river. Every day and every night, new and new troops arrived here. Small groups of horsemen, or even solitary riders, made their way. They hurried, hurried, hurried... The reconnaissance sent by the kagan reported: the Turkic detachments had found the fugitives and were now gathering from all sides to Cherni Sunga.
The battle began with a decisive attack by the elite detachment of Kül-tegin. The prince was clearly visible on his white horse.
Inspired by his example, the alps rushed into battle behind him. But arrows flew like a cloud at him, standing out too much. The best enemy fighters aimed to unseat the batyr. So far, no one had succeeded.
The Turks tried to push the Kyrgyz away from the rocks and throw them into the river. Kül-tegin crashed into the detachment of Kulichor with a powerful wedge and began to press. But the Kyrgyz commander gathered all his forces and pushed the enemy back.
Furious, Kül-tegin scolded his alps, calling them ground squirrels and turtles; he shamefully drove back to the rear a dozen warriors who had retreated first. There, they immediately took their own lives.
Regrouping his wedge, the prince led it into attack again. He shouted:
- Hey, Kulichor! Shepherd! Coward, striking the unarmed! A frail old woman, wearing a sword! Where are you? Hiding behind the backs?
Come out! Let everyone see if you are as brave in a duel as in the tent of your ajо! Come out, you mustached harlot!
He galloped to the log rampart. One of the Kyrgyz warriors could not withstand it, jumped onto the rampart. Kül-tegin pierced him with an arrow!
Under a hail of arrows, the alps tore apart the log rampart, and a heavy cavalry poured through the breach. The detachment of Kulichor began to be pressed again. The hot-headed Kulichor now called upon Umay-ene and, cursing the cowards, charged with a few bodyguards to intercept the rider on the white horse.
He struck the enemy with a spear, but Kül-tegin deftly deflected the spear with his round shield, and it embedded itself in the thigh of the noble steed. The horse whinnied in pain, reared up, and immediately began to fall sideways. Already falling, the prince struck the enemy with his spear: it entered Kulichor below the breastplate into his belly by a whole palm's width... Utkul, who rushed to help the leader, was struck down by Kül-tegin with a second blow of his terrible spear...
At this point, the defense of the Kyrgyz was breached, and the Turkic alps struck the flank of the rest of the ajо-kagan's army.
Bars-beg fought in the ranks as a simple warrior. And where was the distinction between the simple and the commanding! Everything was mixed up.
Wild cries, groans of the wounded, fierce heavy breathing, neighing of horses, the pounding of hooves, clanging of metal... Amid this terrible music, no commands could be heard. The battle became uncontrollable, breaking down into thousands of duels.
Courage and valor were displayed equally on both sides. Both sides called for the help of Tengri and Umay-ene. But the Turks had two advantages: numerical superiority and unmatched martial skill. These advantages decided the outcome. Tengri and Umay, the divine couple, awarded victory to the strongest.
...The battle at Cherni Sunga lasted three days. And now the fourth day had come. The sun rose over the gorges and ravines, over the halted rivers, over the wooded slopes... On the snowy plain lay thousands of figures in the most unnatural poses... Crows flew around cawing and settled on the distant birches.
Kül-tegin was already riding another horse, surveying the battlefield. A respectful retinue followed him. The prince was searching for the body of Bars-beg.
A thousand alps, who knew the Kyrgyz kagan by sight, examined each slain warrior.
But Bars-beg was not found. This was reported to Kül-tegin. Tengri did not take him to the blue heights! Erklig did not drag him underground! Search! — shouted the enraged prince.
The alps searched again. They reported again. A frantic cry again. The alps threw up their hands... No, Bars-beg could not have escaped. He was not that kind of man. They had seen him, the white-bearded old man, in the thick of the battle. There were dozens of witnesses to this. They also claimed that the ajо-kagan had slain several famous batyrs and had himself received many wounds.
But what happened to him afterward, no one could say with certainty.
The victors searched for him in vain to triumph. The defeated searched in vain — to mourn and perform the burial rites. Bars-beg seemed to have flown away. Forever.
The Legend of the Man with Two Heads