All Chapters of Reapers Of Suffering: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

“Shhh... Quietly...” Febr covered her mouth with his hand, and Lesana silently screamed into his hand, hard as a board. - Well, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you. It was necessary to escape, what are you like dead? She finally sucked in a breath through her nose, dispersing the circles floating in front of her eyes: - Fuck you... And then... through...!!! The guy laughed. Well, let me see what you have... Still grimacing in pain, Lesana pulled up her shirt and turned sideways. There was a huge bruise on the ribs. Febre looked up at the girl with guilty eyes. - I beat half-heartedly ... She crouched and sank down on the wet trunk of a fallen tree. The sagging coarse snow in the clearing where the opponents fought was trampled to the ground. Lesana felt the bruise, breathing through her teeth in a jerky and uneven way. You broke my rib! “I didn’t break it,” the guy argued. - Give. Strong fingers slid unexpectedly softly over the flaming skin. - Maybe it cracked?

Sweet led the daughters by the hands. Radosh sniffed sweetly, arranged in a piece of canvas tied over his mother's shoulder. They were all together again. And Diven no longer looked dying. They had passed through the thicket and were now walking through a young forest that stretched along a fidgeting river. Peace reigned in my heart. The children no longer appeared translucent to blue. Spring brings back hope. And the wanderers dragged on, trying to cover as much distance as possible during the night. I already vaguely remembered the harsh winter, knee-deep snowdrifts, and how Slada and Diven left the chase. Even the Citadel itself and the outlandish hunter seemed like a dream. But I still remember the second day after the escape, when the wife and husband stopped for the night. Diven cut down a hut in the wild more often, and they buried themselves in it. The woman hoped to rest, but her husband did not immediately allow her to take a nap and fall asleep. Grabbed by the shoulders,

The rope, thrown over the dryer pole, swayed measuredly. It was hot. The barn smelled of old manure. Shreds of last year's dry hay stuck out of the gaps in the eaves. Skotin had to slaughter greenfields in the middle , when Siyana fell ill, and Volynets was up to nothing. The wife had a hard time giving birth, but the daughter was born strong, pink and noisy. The father and grandmother nursed the child together, because the mother fell ill. Volynets treated his wife with Dar, but even Dar did not help in such rotten weather. A rainy spring turned into a cold and also rainy summer. Water poured down from heaven day after day in unstoppable torrents. The earth became limp, the young grass began to rot, neither mushrooms nor berries grew in the forest, the fields turned into swamps - there was nowhere to sow bread, and no one ... However, little by little, Shiyana stood up, although she was still weak. Volyn breathed a sigh of relief. Therefore, when on a rainy morning of the month of

Evening descended on the Citadel. Kleskh returned from Lesana to his unheated dark rest and sank down on the bench, inhaling the smells of the Citadel: dampness, stone, preli. It was necessary to order one of the servants to heat it. And, however, one night and so you can endure. I was too lazy to light the light. And the guard sat in the dark, listening to the silence. Ned, without knowing it, made exactly the decision to which he was diligently pushed by kref - exile. And together with Lesana. The mentor of the warriors chuckled and closed his eyes. To tell the truth, the indignation of Ichthor and those who joined him turned out to be unexpected, which almost ruined everything. Well, at least Rust and Donatos have not changed themselves. Klesh smiled contentedly. At that moment, there was a soft scratch at the door: - Open it. Mairico. The guard hid. Can he believe that he doesn't exist? The light is not on. The hearth is cold. You never know where he goes. - I know you're he

If someone asked the student Kleskh to tell about how she lived for three years, wandering with kreff through cities and villages, the girl probably could not tell beautifully and smoothly. And what is there to say? About the days spent in the saddle - under the wind, rain, snow? About spending the night under the open sky, when did the heat overcome, or cold, or dampness? About how sometimes she woke up in the fall, and her hair (fortunately short) froze to the roll placed under her head? Or how you wanted to wash and sleep, but instead you had to drive carts one by one along the forest roads? How did you learn to wield a sword? How did she kill the first werewolf, who, for her bad luck, turned out to be not a wolf, not a fox, not a forest cat-lynx, but a bear? Or remember how Kleskh ran after her with a jerk at the ready through a remote village and yelled: “I’ll kill the scrawny !!!” Well, this is after she shied away from him for nothing, mistaking him for a walker in the middl