THE PATH OF RENUNCIATION

1

The ancient apple trees had already faded, and the air smelled of clover. Despite the early morning, it was deserted. The usually busy road was lonely white, gleaming along the roadsides with torches that had not yet been extinguished. The guards, wearily shifting at the gates, were waiting for their shift. A few old panthers walked slowly around a squat stone wall, beyond which the forest darkened. Circling over the silver spiers, a huge black raven croaked in a bass voice. Looking for something, he then descended, then rose, heavily flapping his shiny blue-black wings.

Running his hand along the smooth marble railing, Paraman looked down once more. A thick shadow lay at the foot of the tower, but the first rays of dawn were already reflected in the windows of the heir's chambers. The Singing Wind Path passed just below the stone windowsill.

“Too high,” thought Paraman, involuntarily recoiling, and frowned thoughtfully. It was difficult to believe that my uncle went to such madness. Even an experienced officer would have broken his legs if he had decided to jump onto the Path with a lookout, and with a baby in his arms ... Shaking his head, Paraman closed his eyes for a moment and breathed deeply. A barely perceptible breeze cooled his damp forehead. 

- Your Highness, - came from behind, - you asked to warn ...

- Who needs me? Paraman asked evenly, turning his head slightly. 

The young officer behind the archway leading to the spiral staircase bowed briefly.

- Lord Tarham, Your Highness. 

Gritting his teeth, Paraman nodded and turned away again. 

- Where are you! Breathing rapidly, Tarham shuffled along the stone slabs and, going to the railing, unbuttoned his long black robe. A green camisole embroidered with silver draped over thin, stooped shoulders and a hunched back. Without ritual attire, the Head of the Council did not look very impressive. That's probably why he almost never took it off. “Your presence will be needed,” Tarham spoke again after a long silence. - Sign the papers, testify that the sentence of Rod's court has been executed, and you can go to your fiefdom. 

- How long?

- Let's see. Catching Paraman's eye, Tarem smiled dryly. - You need to gain experience, so the question of the coronation will not be raised yet. The law permits such delay.

A horse whinnied below. Startled, Paraman swallowed the lump in his throat. 

- Bye? he asked as evenly as possible, carefully hiding the hope that had flared up in his soul. What if the child did survive? 

Throwing his robe over his arm, Tarham shrugged casually.

- The Big World is not so big, Paramani, we have connections there too. Your uncle wasn't the first to use the Path. Sooner or later we will find both the baby and those to whom he entrusted him. Do not worry about it. Your candidacy suits both the Leading Line and the Order. The main thing is not to repeat the mistakes of your father. Consider this good advice.

- You can rest assured, I always listened to your words, - Paraman assured and, noticing a rider galloping along the road, involuntarily crept up. Even from a distance, he easily recognized his father. As indicated in the verdict, he left the castle without an escort. He did not wait for Paraman.

“It's a pity I won't see you die,” Paraman thought, without taking his eyes off the white camisole flickering between the apple-tree branches, and involuntarily reached for the hilt of the sword. Cold sticky hatred swept away fear and uncertainty from the soul. He remembered his mother again and again and those endless moments when his father’s dagger cut through the thin skin on her neck ... Paraman did not care whether his father was behind the murder of King Lirdan and his wife or the Head of the who still had to die, but the death of his own mother and his own impotence did to him what his father could not for years. Paraman felt nothing more. All he wanted was just to live and preferably away from all the dirt in which they tried to dip him, putting him on the throne. 

“Really sorry,” Taram chuckled mockingly. “But I can promise you that Kyle won't get to Ira. My spies will not let him out of their sight. The Order neither forgives nor forgets. 

- I really hope so, - lowering his hand, Paraman answered angrily and slowly breathed in the air that suddenly became viscous. The pain that squeezed his temples slowly receded. Behind the surging feelings, he did not even notice the mental intervention. - I'm leaving today. I'll leave the papers with Aurok. 

-Well, warm and peaceful winds! Smiling approvingly at his bow, Tarham turned and leaned on the railing. 

With a last croak, the raven made a sharp turn and flew away.

The operation went on for almost six hours. Carl furrowed his brows in concentration. Each of his movements was clear and confident, and only small droplets of sweat that appeared on his high forehead betrayed incredible tension. This was not the first time that I had to improvise at almost every stage, but today everything was especially difficult. He had known his patient, Professor Georgios Paraxis, for a long time: the old surgeon was his first teacher and mentor. Paraxis personally asked to lead the operation, although he was well aware that even Karl had little chance of success.

“Try, son, maybe I’ll live some more. You know yourself: if you can't, no one can. The main thing to remember is that there is always a way out, you just need to grope for it, grab it by the tail and pull it towards you, ”he said during their last conversation, almost repeating the phrase, as if by chance thrown once by his father. Now these words sounded from everywhere: they were whispered by the walls and the steady sound of the monitor, they were heard in the heavy sighs of a tired assistant and the distant, as if unearthly, sound of cars passing outside the windows.

Chasing away disturbing thoughts, Karl almost inaudibly, with only his lips, commented on his every movement, millimeter by millimeter, canceling the death sentence to a man who had been doing the same for others for half his life.

Six years ago, having become the youngest graduate in the history of the department, Karl used all his connections to get the opportunity to practice at the clinic headed by the professor. Upon learning of this, he treated him coldly and with distrust.

- Where are you in such a hurry? asked Paraxis, glancing disapprovingly from under his thick, graying brows, looking through his papers. “Our business is not rushed.

“I know, professor,” Karl answered then, and, omitting what should not have been said, explained to him both his motives and the plan that he had been following for fourteen years now - from the very day he was left without a father.

– Is that how? The professor lowered his massive head thoughtfully. - Well, that's commendable then. Seven years - not so much, but what I can - I will teach. The rest is himself. The key is to practice as much as possible. In this you guessed it, we have many opportunities, sometimes there are not enough hands, so you will learn everything that you have in mind. But first you show yourself in the case, I have to look.

And Karl showed, and at the very first operation, to which he was admitted as an assistant.

“I’m not used to praising, but you’ll be good, just keep in mind: I won’t give you any sleep or rest,” Paraxis announced the next day. - How long did you work on your hands?

“For a long time,” Karl answered quietly and fell silent, for some reason suddenly remembering the sleepless nights spent at the cradle of his sister. It was then, finally resigned to the fact that his father bequeathed in a letter, he began to think through their future path, breaking it into countless options. In many of them, the possession of a scalpel could save his life and help those who might be near.

Time, stretching endlessly, with the last bundle suddenly started and flew forward, furiously turning the arrows on the dial. No longer feeling his legs, Karl once again double-checked all the indicators and only then, stepping back, nodded to the assistant to finish.

“Bravo, Vallor,” he said wearily, meeting his eyes. - Pulled from the other world. Nobody believed.

Instead of answering, Karl dryly thanked for the good work, made a short remark to his sister, and, without taking off his dressing gown, left. It was necessary to have time to call one of their observers and call a taxi. He didn't have time to go home.

A hastily drunk glass of water cooled his hot throat. Combing his damp hair back, Carl fastened his silver cufflinks and took another look at the open, tattered diary. Encrypted records completely covered the unlined sheets. The last lines were written in a hurry and ended with ellipsis: the information collected by Hansved had to be carefully considered.

During the time that the sister was in the Big World, the Order did not stop trying to find her. The current envoy was the third, and this time Karl ordered him not to be touched. Only two and a half years were left before the Western Path, which opened the way to the Kingdom, and another opportunity might not present itself.

“The hornet's nest stirred,” smiling into his black, neatly trimmed beard, Karl narrowed his eyes unkindly. “No other way than Paraman finally got tired of waiting.”

Having at his disposal only what his late father managed to tell him in a letter, Karl built a lot of probabilities, but in order to choose the closest to reality, a few strokes were missing. The messenger of the Order must have known at least some of them. In addition, Karl needed to check and calculate his strength. He did not have the right to make a mistake, so the risk was fully justified: acting blindly in the future was equal to a death sentence. And Karl was not going to die: his father paid too high a price to save the Leading line. The only pity is that fate did not let him understand what trump card he had been holding in his hands all this time. If my father had known the truth, everything would have turned out differently. However, there was no point in regretting the past, boyish ambitions had long subsided, and the task that Karl faced was worth any sacrifice on his part,

It was still hot and stuffy outside. Unbuttoning the collar, Karl cast a thoughtful glance at the white domes of the temple nearby. It was getting dark. The empty streets gradually became busier; here and there soft music was heard from small cozy cafes.

The taxi stopped near the clinic. Finding a short Turk standing on the opposite side of the road, Karl waited for the signal and, without looking back, got into the car.

The back seat was hot and reeked of cigars. Opening the window, he leaned back and rested his head on the headrest, allowing himself to close his eyes and relax for the first time that day.

* * *

Returning the training rapier to its place, Leah left the armory and, looking around the empty hall, stood for a few moments, listening to the receding voices. The clock above the door showed a quarter to eight. The coach let everyone go half an hour early, but it was too late to call Karl: his brother must have left the clinic.

“Christian must send a taxi,” she thought briefly, and going to the wide, finely screened window, she swayed impatiently from her toes to her heels. The sky behind the dusty glass beckoned with a dark late afternoon blue. After the sweltering heat, she wanted to go to the sea more than ever. “I’ll have time to take a walk and be back home before the car arrives,” as if convincing herself, Leah threw her bag over her shoulder and hurried to the exit.

The sun has already touched the water's edge and stretched a wide golden path to the shore. The lazy waves sighed unevenly, sorting through the oval pebbles, and, licking the toes of their sandals, crawled back.

Picking up the chiselled shell, Leah swung and threw it into the center of the path. Throwing up a few sparkling splashes, the shell gurgled loudly, and the oncoming wave immediately erased the small ripples left after it.

Almost without touching the wing, a seagull flew overhead. Bending down, Leah scooped up the salt water in her palms and, letting it escape a little between her fingers, washed her face. The bitten lip immediately ached, but it became easier to breathe.

The lone plane gleamed in the sunset, getting smaller and smaller every second. Putting her hand over her eyes, Leah frowned in concentration. She didn't know if Carl had flown on it, but suddenly something inside her felt pinched. Her brother had never left her alone for so long.

“Come back, just come back,” she mentally exhaled into the sky and, feeling how cool her legs were, she belatedly jumped back. Small sharp grains of sand immediately stuck to wet sandals, but Leah did not shake them off: she already lingered longer than she wanted - next to the sea, time was deceptive.

An unpleasant chill ran between her shoulder blades and enveloped her shoulders, making her shiver. She suddenly felt scared and lonely, a strange oppressive melancholy stirred in her soul. His own impulse seemed childishly stupid. Karl would have been upset if she had broken the rules and left alone: ​​he was always worried about her.

“We should have waited for the car,” Leah thought, annoyed with herself, and, turning around, hurried to the embankment.

- Hey! Wait!

The voice came from somewhere behind her, when she was already at the very top of a narrow staircase pressed into the stone wall. Afraid to turn around, Leah threw off her heavy bag and ran. She did not know whether she was shouted at or not, and she herself did not understand why she was suddenly so frightened, but fear turned out to be stronger than reason.

The footsteps behind her got louder and louder. Feeling that she was suffocating, Leah darted to the side and, almost stumbling, at the last moment managed to grab onto the edge of the balustrade that separated the embankment from the beach. Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to jump out of her chest.

The young man who had stopped opposite looked with a mixture of surprise and concern. His face looked vaguely familiar.

- Are you alright? Seeing that she was not going to answer, he silently handed her the bag. - Here, you dropped it.

“I…” Not knowing what to say, Leah automatically took the leather belt and nodded her thanks. - It just seemed to me.