THE PATH OF RENUNCIATION

55

The dawn was truly magical. The air, saturated with the smell of rotten grasses and damp earth, swirled over the withered grass in a thick fog. The high towers of clouds drifted slowly from north to south, and the golden rays of dawn scattered around them in a wide fan. The horses snorted softly, impatiently moving their hooves, and the warriors tried to warm themselves by stretching their legs that had become stiff during the night. In the morning, Liramel still managed to fall asleep, although his nerves were so tense that he almost did not feel tired.

Having had a quick bite, Hyde ordered to build up and, having waited for a messenger from the fortress, asked Liramel for permission to order the handbrakes to advance their detachments. Soon the border was left behind, and under the hooves of the horses, between the grasses crushed by the winds, a foreign land turned black.

The reconnaissance, which returned an hour after they left the place, reported that some kind of movement had