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
A human head in a wolf mask lay on the table. Candle flames reflected in dead, faded eyes. The skin was grey, bloodless and like dry old parchment. Kertan frowned at the head.The people around the table were silent. Their faces were lost in the darkness. Only expensive clothes were visible: soft leather with silver studs, lush sable furs. Weapons in precious scabbards.- All died? asked Kertan quietly, holding back a cold fury.- Everything, sir.-And she?- The lady is alive and well.The adviser closed his eyes. Step by step, he approached the abyss from which there was no return. He knew what was in store for him. Him and his family. The rulers will be merciless. It is terrible to imagine what they will do with the man who twice attempted on the life of their Lanaren. Let his stupid daughter organize the first attempt, but at least she took care of the poison for the killer. And this move was good. Kertan gave the same poison to all his people. Quick and effective: little gray pea
While they were climbing up the slope, Bery quietly told his wife about the city. He was very ancient. It grew from a small village, in which the Markats once hid from hostile clans, captured the entire slope of the mountain, deeply bit into its stone flesh. The mountain protected from enemies and from harsh winter winds, nourished with underground rivers and springs, warmed the earth with its eternal internal heat. Day was afraid of this rock. It seemed to her that she, too, was dozing, like those hills - giants, in order to wake up one day.The city was large and rich, stone barns, warehouses, inns and taverns everywhere. The houses are two-story and three-story made of white stone and massive logs covered with some kind of light lime. The central streets were wide, numerous galleries hung above them, and the alleys wound like ribbons between the houses, narrow, barely enough for one person to pass. But even here, in the city, right next to the houses, luxurious sprawling pines grew
Winter has come. Deja looked at the world behind the magic glass and smiled. Snowflakes fell and swirled, gleaming in the sun. There was silence in the bedroom: Aznar left before dawn, but Bery slept very soundly, hugging one of the soft pillows. Trays of the remnants of supper were piled on the table, and tall bottles of red glass smelt sweetly and cloyingly of wine.Deja walked over to the man and touched the smooth, golden skin on his back. It was so nice to stroke her, the girl could do it endlessly. Stroking the skin and combing long red hair. Beria frowned in his sleep. Fooling around, the princess pulled a red strand towards herself. Smooth and thick hairs glided pleasantly between the fingers. Smiling at her thoughts, the girl began to weave a small, narrow pigtail.-Deya? - the man woke up and his eyes quickly became meaningful. - What are you doing?-Will you show me the city? She had already spent two weeks in the castle, but she had not seen anything but this room. Two wee
They wandered around the market for several hours. Buy something, try something. Often merchants offered gifts, recognizing Beria, and Deya accepted them, but paid for each. The man didn't mind. When the girl got hungry, Markat offered to go to one of the taverns.“The food there is wonderful, you should try it,” he said and pulled his nose, slightly closing his eyes. I can already feel it from here.“Let’s go,” the princess laughed, clinging to him and letting people pass.Already at the exit from the market square, they ran into a girl. Deja recognized her instantly: Laran, the councilor's daughter. Today she seemed to be even more beautiful than the first time. Her hair is gathered up, her eyes shine, and the emerald dress under the fox furs shimmers in the sun with golden threads. - Oh, Bery, - Larana, seeing the man, extended her hand, not waiting for a return greeting. Markat reluctantly kissed her. Larana looked at Deya, as if appreciating, - My mistress. The princess nodded br
Dee had a nightmare. She ran alone, through a dark forest full of cold, dead snow. In her hands was a small bundle, in which a baby squealed softly. The girl did not see him, but she knew for sure that her son was there. Tiny and defenseless. And she doesn't have the strength to save him.Behind him, frost was spreading and a long, mournful howl. Only it was not wolves that ran after her, but people in wolf masks with bloodied short daggers. She knew it. And she ran and ran until her strength ran out, and her legs became heavy, filled with lead weight.The air around him became thick as milk. It hurt to breathe. The girl froze in a small clearing, looking around and fearing the darkness, clutching the child to her chest. There was silence all around, but it seemed like a thousand eyes were watching her, invisible and dangerous.And then the snow next to her stirred: the white veil split and a pale hand with traces of dark blood escaped from it. Deya backed away in horror, watching the
The doctor was an elderly woman. At first, Deya decided that she was about a hundred years old: the old woman was hunched and moved slowly, leaning on a massive stick made of light, smooth wood. The woman’s gray transparent hair curled in thin braids almost to her knees, a silver fur cape rested on her shoulders, a bleached linen dress was hidden under it, the sleeves of which held silver bracelets on her wrists, on her legs were comfortable and soft fur boots, in which she stepped inaudibly, like a cat . The medicine man smelled of herbs and honey, and her knobby, rough fingers were soaked with decoctions. But when she came closer, the attentive eyes of a woman who was not at all old, but wise, looked inquisitively at the girl. The eyes were green, like those of many Markats, but very light, with a noticeable dark gray rim.And the first thing she did was wave her hand to the bored Beria. And surprisingly, the man immediately understood what they wanted from him. He rolled his eyes a