Konrad and Alexandra (pdf) - Rolf Gross

along, which I will tie to the person walking across, so we can fish you out should you slip.
Zhurab, the head porter, will carry the end of the rope across, and I will belay the other on this
side. You can balance yourself by holding onto the rope rails. Who is free of vertigo?"
All looked at Vladimir, who shot Konrad a withering glance and then looked at Tamara.
Blushing, he volunteered. The porter gingerly carried the rope across and attached it to a tree
on the other side. The rope lay slack on the beams. Tamara expertly tied it and a second rope
around Vladimir’s waist.
"Tsavide!" shouted Tamara in Georgian, "off you go!"
Vladimir began his walk. Hesitant, he put one foot before the other staring at the porter
on the other side. Halfway across he stumbled over a knob in one of the beams. He briefly
looked down and promptly lost his balance. For a moment with arms spread he balanced on
one leg, rowing with the other in mid-air.
"Don’t look down, look at Zhurab." Shouted Tamara gathering in the rope and bracing
herself with all her strength for the sudden shock should he go overboard.
They all held their breath. Vladimir raised his head and got both his feet back onto the
beams.
"Good!" shouted Tamara, "Very good! Dance! Don’t walk so hesitantly. The bridge is
wide, you cannot miss it."
Vladimir now almost ran in short steps, head high, his sight on Zhurab. When he
reached the other bank he wiped the sweat off his forehead and waved to his cheering friends,
the hero of the day.
Tamara pulled the rope back, and the next person was tied up.
In this way Tamara ferried everyone across but Claudia. Claudia looked as white as a
sheet. Fear widened her eyes.
"Well, Claudia, somehow we have to get you across too," said Tamara. "The only other
way is that Zhurab carries you across piggy-back. Don’t strangle the good man when you get
scared, close your eyes and pray to the Mother of God, think of Munich or something else
pleasant."
In this manner Zhurab ferried Claudia to the other shore. Niko took her to a spring and
washed her face. She sat by the wayside exhausted and wearily watched the porters carry the
loads across and Tamara doing a last solo dance.
"Waah," sighed Tamara with a broad smile, "what a job to dangle five sheep across a
harmless chasm." They all hugged her.
From the bridge the path climbed across the ridge through dense coniferous forest. On
the other side the woods opened onto a high meadow framed by snow mountains on both
sides. It was mid-afternoon, relieved they collapsed by the side of the path.
"We have made it!" shouted Tamara.
Konrad with the eye of the botanist immediately noticed the flowers in the green
meadow, a small crocus (colchicum autumnale), eight-petal dryads and a few alpine arnica
were still blooming, a profusion of his beloved arctic gentians, silver-green with fringed petals.
He quietly left them and returned with a rare, spectacular bluebell (primula wollastonia) with
delicate, silver-white frosting in its chalice. He smiled at Alexandra and presented the flower to
Tamara.
An hour later, at the edge of the woods below Laila Mountain a fairy-tale castle came
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