After burying his father, Rene, with a heavy heart, began to sort things out. He arranged in the office of the provost the inheritance, which included a new house on the rue Saint-Paul and his father's glove business. René decided to leave the manufacture of gloves to the apprentices, and he himself looked forward to September, the date when Captain Dupe would accept him into the ordinance company. After the death of his father, Rene felt terribly lonely. Trying to forget himself, he spent whole days embroidering gloves made by apprentices, but the work did not bring him peace. Rene was depressed that he could not save his father, he felt responsible for the death of Claude. The only thing that was a little comforting was that in the stampede and horror that gripped the crowd, he was not afraid, did not panic and did not run when his father needed help, on the contrary, he tried to break through to him and save him. Remembering the dangerous situations that arose in his life, Rene was
Francis began his reign by deciding to retake the Duchy of Milan, which had been lost to Louis. He publicly announced that he would personally lead the army. Hasty preparations for the march began. The ordinance company of Captain Dupe was one of the first to act, at the beginning of August.Jacques Tillon and his best friend Henri Chretien were in the same detachment with Rene. Oddly enough, Rene and Henri quickly developed a good relationship. On the long march to the Alps, they supported each other, while Tillon kept aloof, looking sullenly at René.For almost a month the army reached the northern foothills of the Alps. The scouts sent by Francis returned with sad news: all convenient mountain crossings are occupied by the Swiss hired to protect Milan by the dukeMassimiliano Sforza. Francis developed a plan of incredible audacity, and the next morning his troops began crossing the Alps along the Argentière Pass, which was completely unsuitable for this. The road was laid among the
Two weeks later, when René was leaving the barracks, a ragged boy ran up to him and handed him a note. Unfolding it, Rene read with surprise: “Would it be nice for the beautiful Monsieur Legrand to visit the White Rooster tonight?” His heart was beating with joy, he looked at the boy and nodded. The boy immediately ran away. Rene went to the rue Saint-Nicolas, where there was a tavern.Approaching the "White Rooster", he saw the carriage and the same coachman sitting on the box. Noticing Rene, he descended to the ground, bowed low and said:- The lady is waiting for you, sir.- What is your name? Rene asked.The coachman bowed again.- Xavier, sir.Rene nodded and went up the already familiar back stairs to the second floor. Once in a narrow corridor, he saw several doors, one of them was ajar. He pushed her and ended up in the same room as two weeks ago. Madeleine lay on the bed, her eyes glittering mysteriously in the candlelight. Rene looked at her and felt that he was losing his h
With the onset of summer, Rene, as planned, left the service in the ordinance company. He again took up the glove trade, but, unlike his father, he perceived it not as a matter of life, but as a step towards something more important. He thought about opening a glove shop separate from the workshop and about joining the guild of merchants, which had great weight in Paris.Rene walked around the city in search of a suitable place for his shop. At first he wanted to buy his old house on the Rue Saint-Denis, but then he abandoned this idea, deciding to find something closer to the quarters where the nobility lived.Once during such a search, passing by some inn, Rene saw Madeleine's carriage. His heart skipped a beat and seemed to stop. He approached the carriage - it was empty. Rene went into the tavern and looked around. The hall was lined with roughly knocked together wooden tables, behind which townspeople, peasants, military men sat on benches. In the opposite wall, a niche was visib
Gold pressed his lips and sighed heavily. He seemed to be gathering his strength before telling something very important to him.“It happened,” he began, clearing his throat, “at the end of July 1524. The summer was hot and dry, sometimes in one or the other end of the city wooden houses caught fire. I remember walking home after a workshop meeting. Turning down a small street, I suddenly heard screams and smelled smoke. I quickened my pace and soon reached the house, enveloped in the flames of a fire. People were rushing around with buckets, there was noise and bustle. But there was little benefit from this, the house burned so badly that there was no way to put it out. Some daredevils rushed inside the house, but immediately ran out, choking and coughing.Moving to the other side of the street, I looked up and saw with horror that a girl of five years old was standing on a small balcony of a burning house. Fear froze on her face, she did not cry, did not call for help, she simply lo
That March day, Genevieve gave him a couple of deniers and sent him to the grocer's. François ran out into the street and thumped his boots on the cobblestones. Hearing someone call to him, he turned around and saw Andre, the ten-year-old son of their neighbor, Madame Bugeaud. The boy overtook François, and they walked side by side.“Oh, it would be summer already,” Andre muttered, wrapping himself in a cape, and suddenly, for no reason at all, asked, “they say you will soon have a new dad?”- What-oh? François was surprised.- Well, how. That gentleman who visits your mother is obviously going to marry her, we all think so. A prominent guy, you will not say anything. And what a cloak! Not like my rag.François was silent, trying to comprehend what he had heard. So Genevieve has a boyfriend? He felt a burning jealousy. However, this was to be expected, she had been alone for too long.Andre looked at him in surprise.- You didn't know anything?- Nuu ... how can I tell you ... Tell me
François went to Montferrand, where Anna de La Tour lived. As we moved east, there were fewer and fewer villages on the way, and on the third evening after leaving Limoges, Francois could not find a single settlement where one could stop for the night. After spending the night in the field and eating the remnants of cheese, which he was provided with in the last village he passed, he continued on his way.By evening, a forest appeared ahead, huge and dark. The road went straight through it. Before reaching the forest, exhausted and hungry, François settled down for the night. For the whole day he did not meet a single village. “What should I do now?” he thought. “The forest, apparently, is rather big, it may take several days to go through it, but there are probably no villages there. What will I eat? And where will I sleep?”With these gloomy thoughts, he imperceptibly fell asleep, and in the morning, hungry and chilled, he cautiously moved towards the forest.He was walking down the
But it was too late to retreat. The next morning François, as promised, helped papa Étienne straighten the fence and set off.The road was steadily going uphill, and François was rather tired, climbing up the wide path. Here it is, the Auvergne, a wooded highland with short mountain ranges sticking out here and there. Far below, he noticed a village near a river flowing in a narrow valley. Well, he finally reached the goal, somewhere in this alien, inhospitable mountainous country, his sister lives. Inspired by this thought, the boy hurried down.François now walked much more carefully, from settlement to settlement, trying not to catch the twilight on his way. You can hide or run away from robbers, but where can you get away from evil spirits?If the locals refused him lodging for the night, Francois quietly settled in someone's garden. He shuddered at the thought that a werewolf might attack him at any moment. When he managed to persuade the owners to give him shelter, he carefully
Michael Gold paused, trying to catch his breath. He seemed to be reliving the terror that had seized him in the mountains of South America.“And Plath is gone?” exclaimed the vicar ruefully.Alas, John, yes. A strange insanity has deprived me of this most valuable relic!- What a pity! What do you think it was?“I have puzzled over this for three hundred years, explaining everything as the revenge of higher powers. It was only three years ago that I read an article in The Sunday Times that I think explains the panic attack that happened to me then. The article said that a certain John Balderston, director of the London Lyric Theater, was preparing a play for staging, where the characters were transported into the past as the action progressed. He wanted to come up with something spectacular so that the audience at that moment felt the psychological tension. And Mr. Balderston turned to his friend, the physicist Robert Wood, for help. He made a pipe, like an organ, but longer and thick
Gold wearily rubbed his face with his hands.“Those days are hard for me to remember, John. Then I committed one of the most shameful acts of my entire life. But I swear I'll be completely honest about everything.'I have no doubt, my friend,' nodded the vicar. - Few people could speak so frankly about themselves, not only good, but also bad.— So, we got into a small pirogue and sailed up the river. Usually, for the construction of boats, the Indians took a tree with a wide trunk and burned out the middle. But this boat turned out to be wicker and very light. The current here was weak, so Anka and Yakumama rowed tirelessly.About five hours later we landed on the shore, and I saw a path cut through the jungle, as wide as I had ever seen in these places. It turned out that the Indians dragged boats along it to another river, which they called the Serpent, and the Europeans - Madre de Dios. Even such a light pirogue as ours was not easy to drag, but we managed and by the evening reache
On one of the days of the Month of Seva, Apu Uma sent for Istvan. He hurried to the leader and found him in great agitation. Forgetting to offer mate to the guest, the Indian said:“Our scouts have spotted a white party, Amauta. They go through the jungle towards Antavara.The priest's heart jumped with joy, but at the same moment he thought - if the Europeans capture the village, they will also learn about the mines. No, this cannot be allowed.- How is it - "go"? After all, the selva is impassable.- How do we go? Cut through the road with knives and axes.— How many of them?The chief frowned and drew seven parallel lines on the dirt floor. Thirty-five people, Isstvan realized."And when will they get to us?"- In two or three days. We need to organize protection.“No,” the priest said thoughtfully. “We have to set up an ambush. Then, firstly, they will not find the village, and secondly, thanks to a surprise attack, we will have an advantage.After thinking for a moment, Apu Uma n
The Indians made a noise, and Istvan could not believe his ears. What nonsense? This is impossible! But no, he saw the living dead with his own eyes!"But the corpses didn't disappear until the third night," he muttered.The sorcerer chuckled and nodded again.— Yes, but here they bury in the wall. Apparently, in the ground they deteriorate faster. At first I did not know this and could not understand why they did not turn into nzambi. The first two had to be killed, their minds barely affected. Then I realized that here the body was lying in the wall and tried to pick it up later. This is how I determined from experience that it is best to raise the "dead" on the third night.- Can they be cured somehow? Return to normal life?- Of course not.How long do they exist in this state?- Who is like. If you feed them on time, then some of them last for four or five years.“Now tell me, why can’t they be killed?”- Why, maybe. They just don't feel pain and follow orders as long as they can
The Incas got up early. Not finding Istvan, they were alarmed. When he, half-dead from fatigue and experienced horror, dragged himself to the gate, he was greeted with a joyful uproar. Sampa Anka grabbed him under the armpits and helped him to the hut.“What happened to you, white brother? he kept asking. - Where have you been?"I'm sorry, Anka," Isstvan whispered, sinking onto the couch. “I’ll tell you everything, but right now I don’t have the strength.”He slept for almost a day and woke up cheerful, completely recovered from the shock of the night. Hardly waiting for the morning, Istvan went to Apu Uma and told about everything that he had to endure.Sampa Anka, who sat silently beside him, stared in horror at the priest, while the chief shook his head grimly.“You broke my ban, Amauta,” he said when Istvan finished his story.“Sorry, Great Leader, but I couldn’t help but watch your people die.“I understand that you were guided by a kind and brave heart. But what have you achieve
The next morning, having somewhat calmed down, they again retired to the hut.- Understand, spirits are not like that at all! Istvan admonished his friend. “They were real flesh and blood people. There must be some other explanation.“Okay,” he nodded obediently, “then explain to me what the secret is.”“That is what we must find out. Tell everything you know about them.Sampa Anka shrugged.- There is nothing to tell. Ordinary guys.What could unite them?- Nothing. Only that they all died.- When exactly?The young man frowned as he remembered.“Well… Vira eight moons ago. Llapi four moons earlier. The other two, it seems, shortly before your arrival.This information did not give Isstvan anything, but he stubbornly bombarded Anka with questions, trying to find at least some thread.Did any of them get sick?- It seems not.- So all four died according to the prediction of the sorcerer?After thinking, Sampa Anka nodded confidently."And their bodies disappeared on the third night?"
Returning to his room, Istvan was lost in thought. Let's say the evil Aya Naya really kills the Indians, but how and why? However, the methods may be different, for example, to send damage. For what purpose does he do this? And, most importantly, why do corpses disappear? Perhaps the spirit of the deceased raises his body and takes him somewhere? No, what nonsense!Isstvan's mind was in confusion. But he was a man of action, and therefore he soon questioned the leader and his son about all the details. It turned out that the bodies disappear on the third night after the funeral.When an old man died two weeks later at the other end of the village, Istvan decided to follow his grave.“This is unreasonable, brother,” Apu Uma admonished him, “and very dangerous. Only Viracocha knows what happens when the body disappears. Suddenly all living things around perish?“Believe me, Great Leader, I will find out the truth,” Isstvan replied grimly. “I don’t want an incomprehensible curse weighing
Listening to the leader, Istvan could not recover from amazement. So the Templars were in the West Indies long before Señor Columbus?“The Order was rich,” he reflected, “and could well equip an expedition to search for new lands. The Templars sailed here and found huge reserves of silver and gold. So that's where the legends about the untold wealth of the order came from! Some came to rule the Incas, others left, taking away priceless treasures on ships. And then what? They returned forever ... Probably, it was under Philip the Handsome, who banned the order and arrested everyone he could find. But many Templars escaped and lived here until their deaths. Why didn't they leave offspring? Posing as gods? Of course, they were monks! They could not have intercourse with women and remained faithful to their vow even in such conditions. How many times have I broken my vow of chastity? Eh..."This discovery shocked Istvan. All his knowledge of the history of the conquest of the West Indies
Religion occupied a huge place in the life of the tribe. Everywhere in the village and beyond there were so-called waki - sacred things and places. Uakoy could be anything - a bunch of stones stacked in a special way, a rock, a hill, a stream, a spring, an idol carved from wood, like standing on a kurikancha. The Indians carefully looked after all the Huacas. A special place of worship was Nayakuna Pirka - a long stone wall built to the east of the village, which consisted of separate cavities. In them, the inhabitants of the village buried the dead, closing each niche with a wooden door.As Istvan mastered Quechua, he learned more and more about the views of the Indians.“There are three worlds around us,” said Sampa Anka, “underground, earthly and divine. The underworld, Uku Pacha, is ruled by the ferocious god of death, Supai. All dead, unborn babies, some snakes, worms and seeds live there. In the earthly world, Kai Pacha, we are people, but also animals, birds, plants and ghosts.