Sharaam, city of magiciansEndy swayed measuredly in the saddle. The clothes were still damp from the recent heavy rain, and there were smudges and dirt stains on the boots and trousers. His back was numb, his legs were buzzing, and his neck was unbearably itchy. On the road in autumn it is very unpleasant, he had already forgotten that. The man adjusted his collar, looked ahead, and sighed. The forest thinned out considerably, and the road became wider and better. But most importantly, the city walls appeared ahead.Made of dark gray flat stone, tall and gloomy. Narrow towers, over the peaks of which red lights burn, gloomy guards in black robes.The city of magicians, Sharaam, greeted the guests unfriendly. Endius felt uncomfortable in front of the massive gates of bog oak, soaked in some undeniably magical mixture that gave the dark wood an ashen bluish tint. And when the air around him suddenly thickened and shone with a white light, he shuddered in fright. Fortunately, the white
Deja woke up because she suddenly felt that there was someone else in the room. She didn't know how and she couldn't explain it. Yes, and there was no time to think about it.Abruptly sitting up in bed and pulling on the covers, the girl met the gaze of her father's spy. He stood by the fireplace, peering into the darkness, and next to him was a woman. Stately and beautiful, in a dark robe, which perfectly hid her in the darkness. Only her eyes glowed slightly in the dark, and some kind of bluish glow also emanated from her open palms.A wave of cold and fear swept through my body. It was the first time Deja had seen a real live magician. And she was afraid that the Markats would wake up and tear them to pieces right on the spot. But the moments dragged on, and the measured breathing of the sleeping men remained even and calm."I put them to sleep," the woman said quietly. She had a soft and pleasant voice, inspiring trust and warmth. “You have nothing to be afraid of."My lady, get r
The wind grabbed handfuls of bright leaves, played with them, mixed them and threw them to the ground. Enregal was called the fortress city for a reason. He stood on the high bank of the river, surrounded by a powerful fortress wall. The laying was fresh, reliable. The heavy gates opened slowly, the gate creaked strainedly.The warrior next to Deamara touched the reins, forcing the horses under the archway. The two washerwomen followed the procession with indifferent glances and went on. Some thin boy sat on the roof and looked at the soldiers through a paper tube. Other passers-by who got in the way tried to quickly disappear from sight.The warriors stopped at a tall, rich house with turrets and carved doors. Deamare was helped off the horse. The girl was tired, her legs and back ached a little from a long trip. And I was very thirsty.- Here, - one of the men opened the door in front of her, skipping ahead.The house had high ceilings, stained-glass windows made of colored diamonds
When they reached the castle, Deya trudged inside on trembling legs. Bery wanted to follow her, but Aznar stopped him.- Wait, don't touch her.Deya, under the frightened glances of the servants, entered the castle. The girl was covered in blood: face, hair, hands. The woolen suit is hopelessly ruined: the blood is caked with a crust.The princess walked along the familiar path to the baths. There she took off the dirty cloth that had stuck to her body. I sank into the spring and sat there for a long time, losing track of time. She washed and scrubbed dried blood from her skin and hair, shuddered from the rustling. Unsuccessfully warded off the vision of the dead guard, who was left lying on the floor in Leverius' house, face down. Fantasy boldly drew an empty blank look, a terrible wound on the neck, although in fact the girl saw the body only briefly, and even then - in the dark. The water around the girl gradually turned into a pink hue. Daya winced.She returned only when Arleta c
BrivenBery was angry and could not find a place for himself. And he himself could not understand with whom he was more angry, with Deya, for having run away, or with himself. Or furious because he was horrified by a possible loss. The man imagined that Leverius was touching her, and he shuddered. A dry branch crunched underfoot.The werewolf more conveniently intercepted a simple, leather-covered bow, delving into the forest. He didn't like to hunt in human form, but now he needed to think and be alone.When he reached a suitable tree, the man strapped the weapon on his back and jumped lightly, pulling himself up and climbing onto one of the thick lower branches of an old pine tree. He pressed his back against the rough, resin-smelling bark. Bare feet confidently stood on a branch, feeling only a slight chill.Beria closed his eyes and sensitive ears immediately distinguished many sounds. The rustle of leaves receded, subsided, replaced by other sounds. The werewolf heard a distant s
For three days there was an uneasy silence in the castle. For Dei, almost nothing has changed. She still hardly left the room, visiting only the baths. Arleta had been with her, but now she stayed for the night. Slept on the carpet, by the fireplace. The princess noticed how worried the maid was, constantly listening to something. Always keeps at hand a small but sharp dagger in a leather sheath. Dea herself constantly returned her thoughts to the border, wondering how this battle would end.On the fourth day, a large armed detachment arrived at the castle, which was sent to the border. Arleta said that they had just restocked their supplies and were on their way right away. There was no news.In the evening, Deya felt a little anxiety, which in a couple of hours turned into tangible fear. But the girl could not explain what she was afraid of. As a result, after drinking a soothing broth, the princess went to bed early.During the night Arleta woke up because the mistress was tossing
In the morning Beria came to his senses. He took a deep breath, opening his eyes. Almost all the wounds healed and brightened, leaving thin pink scars as a memory. Soon they will become almost invisible. The man looked up at the ceiling, sniffed the air and looked at his brother.Aznar did not sleep. He sat in a not very comfortable position, legs bent, but did not move, because Deya fell asleep on his lap. Trustingly, she curled up, grabbing the man by the waist. Markat carefully held it with one hand, and with the other he went through the blond strands of hair, playing and passing through his fingers. He felt the gaze, Aznar looked back. Slightly smiled at the corner of his lips.- Where is she from? - despite the good health, Beria was in no hurry to get up. He knew how much internal resources such accelerated regeneration could use. Weakness is the least of the consequences that can be expected.- She arrived last night, - satisfied notes were heard in Aznar's voice.-One? Beria
Deja woke up at dawn. There was a cold gray twilight in the tent. Aznar was not there, but Bery was sleeping nearby, putting his right hand and head on the girl's stomach. As if he was afraid that at night she would disappear somewhere.- Hey, - as soon as she moved, the man immediately woke up: he turned his head, opened his not at all sleepy eyes. It was like he didn't sleep at all. -What time is it?- Morning, - the werewolf turned his nose and listened to something. - It just dawned. Half of the camp is still asleep. We started preparing breakfast.- Do you hear all this?-If you concentrate, you can hear. Beri smiled. “Every person in the tent, every horse. Falling snow. And… your heart is the loudest. AND…Here he froze.-What? Deya asked.“Something strange,” Markat replied, not taking his eyes off him. It's not sound, but rather energy. Barely noticeable echo. It probably seemed...Beria sighed and closed his eyes. And then he suddenly shuddered, sharply opening them. The pupi