7

“These seven days, Yarsi, until you pass the conversion,” he said in a lifeless voice. “The border will be unstable, think about it. And then only you will be responsible for the safety of people from Reeta. And you are not Alato, and becoming king, you can probably do much more for people than he can. If there is a desire. If you can overcome hunger. It's difficult, Yarsi, but you are stronger than Alato, and you have the Gift.

Yarsi shook his head.

- A gift? I do not need it. I just wanted… never mind.” He slowly stood up. - I agree to everything, just help me, Matzher. I need to get to Ereald before I become a werewolf.

“You won’t make it in time, but you know you have a chance to preserve the essence of a person. The chance to remain yourself and turn into a beast only when you yourself wish it. Of course, if in these seven days we can find the sorcerer of the old blood, who will agree to give you this same blood.

“Old blood? Who are you speaking about? About the First? They are not left!

It's up to you to decide how you spend those seven days.

Yarsi did not like the smile that played on Matzher's lips.

A choice that doesn't exist, and you can't change the ending. Someone really wished he didn't have that choice. Someone decided that he should disappear, die, decided that he could control someone else's fate. Only this alien decision did not end his life, but turned him into a monster that has teeth and has the strength to get to the enemy's throat. So be it. He didn't start it.

"Good," Yarsi said, and also pursed his lips into a smile. “I want to spend this time looking for the old blood sorcerer.

***

“You need to take a decoction every four hours until you regain your strength.

Yarsi winced involuntarily.

- And how long will it take to recover?

“Three or four days, you've lost too much blood. Say thank you that you can move at all, with such wounds they lie, but do not walk.

They walked along the forest. The only horse was loaded with bags and led on a leash. The trees cast long shadows, and the sun was setting.

They got together quickly. Matzher poured what he was brewing in the pot into a small flask, but before closing it, he forced Yarsi to take a few sips from it. The taste of the liquid almost choked him, his body convulsed, and he fell to his knees with a cough. The concentration of the decoction was much stronger than what he had tried before. The doctor only thoughtfully watched him writhing on the grass, but did not try to help him anymore.

Then Yarsi staggered to his feet, the weakness almost gone, allowing him to assume an upright position. His companion gave the future werewolf a thoughtful look and calmly announced that at such a rate by night they would be able to reach the nearest village.

They spent half the day in silence. Matzher walked in front, led by the horse. Yarsi, in order not to fall, had to cling to the pommel of the saddle with his hands. He almost did not feel pain, but the weakness that did not pass to the end made the trees and grass and the road dance before his eyes. Thoughts remained strangely clear, but I did not want to think about anything. Too many questions and too incomprehensible future ahead ... Maybe the physical pain drowned out the broth, but now he was overwhelmed by a completely different pain - burning out the mind with a terrible reality and tearing consciousness to pieces.

Don't think, don't realize, forget? Will not work. The rejection of what was happening only made him smile bitterly. Even yesterday, he was even a vagabond, but a man who dreams of visiting his native land and returning to Vistolca. Dreaming of understanding his own past and the events that plunged his life into chaos. Now not even that is left. Maybe….

By evening, the surroundings blurred before the eyes turned into black stripes, the fingers unclenched by themselves. Yarsi did not notice how he found himself on the ground. The same bitterness returned to his consciousness. He deliberately remained lying with his eyes closed, holding back the cough that was escaping from his throat. And almost suffocated from the sharp pain that twisted his whole body.

"Don't resist," Matzher advised ruthlessly. - It will be easier. And you need to eat, in Catrice we will have dinner and spend the night.

The mention of food immediately cramped my stomach with hunger. Yarsi rose slowly from the ground. Yes, there was no more weakness, his tormentor managed to pour a larger portion of the broth into him than before. And almost immediately it came to the realization that he had not eaten anything since yesterday. He involuntarily mentally reached forward, dreaming of finding himself in a warm tavern, at the dining table, sinking his teeth into fragrant fried meat, feeling the taste of salty hot blood in his mouth .... He shook his head. The air stirred before his eyes, and for a moment he saw a picture of even rows of houses, wide streets, and people hurrying about their business. He smelled them, absorbed the beating of their hearts and the blood pulsing in the veins with every cell of his body. Alive!

The sharp smell of some grass instantly brought him back. Yarsi rubbed his face in shock.

- What was it?

Matzher crumpled the emerald green leaves in his hands and looked at him very thoughtfully.

“Looks like you and Alato are distant cousins, you’re picking up his abilities way too fast.

What other relatives? Yarsi was outraged. How old was he and how old was I? His bloodline has been extinct for too long!

“The memory of blood can be carried through the ages,” Matzher objected. “You won’t deny that you have the blood of kings in your veins, will you?”

Yarsi shrugged.

“Here, take this,” Matzher put the leaves in a small drawstring bag. - Put it on your neck, it will help you not to lose control of yourself. Well, I hope it helps...

Yarsi obeyed without a word, he did not even ask what kind of grass it was. Herbs have never been his forte. And if Matzher understands them, then let it be his concern.

We reached the village by night, although it was not quite dark yet. Twilight was only creeping up, and more and more confidently came into its own. Yarsi took a cloak from his saddlebag and draped it over his shoulders. He was slightly shivering and shaking, either from loss of blood, or from the upcoming meeting with other people.

Catrice was quite large. The two-story wooden houses competed with the stone ones in terms of beauty, clean, well-groomed streets ran to the sides immediately behind the main gates. Nobody paid attention to visitors, there were a lot of them.

Several inns immediately caught my eye. They, without hesitation, turned into the nearest one. A wide, fenced yard, more like a square, was filled with loaded carts. Drivers slept under the carts, merchants walked nearby, looked after their goods, argued with each other. The wagon trains of immigrants were located at the very fence. In a full voice, trying to be heard through the general din, women were talking, children were shouting. The men gathered in a circle and drank a jug of wine. Near the wall of the stable, under a lone tree, several soldiers were resting, it looked like they were not local. A little away from them was a group of sorcerers, there were five of them, they fenced themselves off from the whole world with a magic screen and were discussing something animatedly.

Yarsi involuntarily looked in their direction. For some reason, his shoulder immediately ached, his arm stabbed, but the sorcerers did not pay any attention to them.

“Once I saw a soldier bitten by a ghoul,” Matzher said, following Yarsi's gaze. “Sometimes such little animals are planted in the border area with Reeta. So, that soldier was hacked to death along with the ghoul by his comrades. People prefer to fight mutants before they begin to change. It's easier to kill that way. Therefore, it will be better for your own health if no one knows that you have been bitten.

“Already understood,” Yarsi muttered and shivered. “But what about the sorcerer you want to find?”

"Witch," Matzher corrected.

- Witch? Yarsi involuntarily stopped. "So you don't have to search?" Are you taking me to your friend?

- Do not rejoice ahead of time, she does not communicate with people and does not like guests.

- And where does she live?

“In the forest on the border with the kingdom of Daitra,” Matzher gave him a thoughtful look, as if deciding something for himself, and easily added. “She really is a First.

A cold shiver ran down Yarsi's spine. So this is how it is. Yes, the First were the keepers of a lot of knowledge, but they did not share it with anyone. And now for five years it was believed that the First no longer exists.

Where are you taking me, Matzher? Who are you, having such acquaintances? Who are you to offer me help?

Yarsi suddenly thought that it would be much easier if he died in Reet right away.

They removed the bags from the horse, and Matzher handed the reins to a thin, freckled boy. He, having received a coin, swore an oath to give him the best oats.

Only one room was free, and that one was under the roof itself.

"Maybe we shouldn't stay here tonight?" Yarsi protested.

- Don't you want to rest?

- I don't want to be late.

"It'll be dark soon," warned the plump, rosy-cheeked clerk who offered them a room. “And the night is the time of the undead, especially now that Reeta's activity has increased. You don’t even always know where its Border passes,” he shook his head. Times are now such that travel is very dangerous.

- Has Reeta's activity increased? Yarsi asked.

The clerk nodded his head.

“Unfortunately, few people know about it. But, unfortunately for us, Catrice is too close to this accursed forest, and we have long noticed that the Frontier is fickle.

- Fickle? Yarsi was surprised.

“She's moving,” the clerk glanced around warily and leaned closer to Yarsi. - In order not to scare away visitors, we are forbidden to talk about this, but I consider it my duty to warn everyone. Too many people have died in our area. It has become dangerous here, I myself am going to leave ... It began five years ago, the Border is either approaching or receding. As recently as last month, for example, she crossed the main road for one night. That night, twenty people were torn apart by the creatures, they were soldiers riding from Rism. Our head says that they themselves accidentally drove into the forest and crossed the Border. Yes, that night was indeed very dark, only their corpses were found not in the forest, but on the road. Here's what's happening in our area.

“Never heard of it,” Yarsi said.

- This is true! the clerk exclaimed and whispered again. - My grandfather was a sorcerer, he said that this is how Reeta reacts to the appearance of demons in our world.

- Wow, demons?

The clerk nodded again.

- Do not leave the city at night, you can become victims of dark forces.

"Thanks for the warning," Matzher chuckled. We'll take a room.

"Very well," the clerk immediately smiled.

- This is true? Yarsi asked as they sat down at a table in the dining room that occupied the entire ground floor.

Although it was noisy here, it was surprisingly clean and almost calm. Tidy tables were scattered throughout the hall. For families with children, a separate corner is fenced off from the common room. Most of the men were at the bar, talking loudly, but without strong words, without swearing.

Matter shrugged.

- What exactly? That the Border is moving, or that demons are walking among the people?

Well, let's say both.

- And it's up to you to decide whether to believe the tales of an employee of the inn, who by any means tried to rent an empty room.

Yarsi shrugged, or rather wanted to shrug, and grimaced in pain.

As soon as they settled down, a girl appeared with a tray. She smiled broadly at them both, but leaned closer to Matzher.

- What do you order?

- Bring the meat, - Matzher did not go into details of the desired dish. The girl bit her lip and cast a questioning glance at Yarsi.

“And guilt,” he added. Despite his hunger, food was the least of his concerns right now.

The girl shrugged her shoulders and ran into the kitchen.

Yarsi pulled his cloak tighter, hiding his wounded shoulder, he suddenly felt cold.

The girl quickly returned with the order, placed before them a bowl of appetizing-smelling stew and a dish of roast pig, then brought a large jug.

Yarsi sniffed the smell, grabbed a spoon and began to eat the stew, it seemed surprisingly tasty to him.

Matzher looked doubtfully at his plate, pushed it aside decisively, and dragged the dish of meat toward him. Yarsi only had to watch how his neighbor at the feast carefully put the baked apples aside, broke the leg of the piglet and chewed it thoughtfully. By the time Yarsi finished his stew, there was nothing left of the piglet. He looked attentively at Matzher, who nodded at his full bowl. Yarsi shook his head and took possession of the jug of wine.

He poured himself a full glass and turned it over in his hand. He did not want wine at all, however, he had never been fond of it, so he sometimes tried it in roadside taverns when he wanted to forget himself after a difficult journey. But now he drank the whole glass in one gulp. The wine was strong and slightly sour in taste. He refilled his glass.

The jug quickly emptied, and to Yarsi's surprise, the alcohol had no effect on him, only clearing his head. He ordered a second jug.

– Would you like to get drunk? Matter asked.

Yes, but something doesn't work.

“And it won’t work, you’re wasting your time.”

The wine was brought by a middle-aged man in a stained apron, gave both visitors a very attentive and surprised look, and put the jug on the table with a thud.

Yarsi poured himself a new portion, out of the corner of his eye he saw how the man who brought them wine stopped next to one of the visitors and said something quickly to him. Yarsi noted this, but did not attach any importance. He began to drink again, the wine seemed to him like water, losing its taste more and more.

Matzher sat with an absent look, fiddling with an empty mug in his hands, and it seemed that now he was somewhere very far away, not here. There was a strange emptiness in his green eyes.

Yarsi glanced at him and took another sip from his mug, grimacing, the wine completely tasteless. He half closed his eyes, there was a great desire to fall into the pleasant darkness of unconsciousness, to disconnect from all problems and experiences, to disappear from this reality of life ... It's easy, in six days it will all be over ...

He clenched his fists in anger. Anxiety appeared unexpectedly. He noticed Matzher's wary look. Through the noise of voices, his hearing picked out someone's words:

“King Bortan is very bad, he won’t last long. Miros needs a new king, and Revid has every chance to put a crown on his head. Of course, if the cursed prince doesn’t come back… Haha, but what kind of heir is he, he was stripped of his title.

Yarsi's heart sank - what is true is true, he was not going to return.

He looked at the speakers. Four men stood at the bar, in light robes, without cloaks, armed with swords and long daggers. Mercenaries in the service of the king usually dressed like this. hmm .

Yarsi closed his eyes for a moment and immediately remembered a picture from the distant past. Mother's grave in the family cemetery, a beautiful stone crypt with golden doors, and a hunched figure of a father on his knees. His words: - I was left alone ...

This was also true. He did not know that his youngest son was present at the funeral. He stood behind the trees and looked at him, and after a moment turned his back on him and walked away.

Yarsi groaned soundlessly, looked up, saw a bitter smile on Matzher's lips.

“I need to go outside,” he stood up.

"Go," Matzher's voice sounded completely indifferent.

The guy quickly went to the exit, felt someone's gaze, looked back. One of the mercenaries instantly turned to his mug and began to drink.

Yarsi left the hall, a heavy sigh escaped from his chest.