The sun was looming in the pre-morning haze and slightly outlined the black refs, slightly powdered with snow, and people were already flocking to the top of the Heart-House, heading straight for the temple, where preparations for the sacred duel were already in full swing. The people lined up along the edges of the sand circle, right under the wooden faces of the d'ahs, carefully watching each villager. When Vassa and his family climbed to the upper platform and stood directly under a huge statue with a bear's head, snowflakes were flying in the air, it was fresh and quiet. The cub shuddered and began to rub his palms. The day promised clear and frosty.My father closed his eyes and whispered something silently. Prayed, I guess. Noticing the attentive look of his son, Musa smiled and tousled his hair. The mother whispered something to the father, and the smile instantly faded from his face.“I told him not to twist the tail,” muttered Musa. “But he never leaves the d'hanka.It only m
The people still rejoiced, but somehow out of tune. Certainly not such a reception was expected by the newly-minted d'aher.“Before you name him d'ahger,” a small old man in a flowery robe kept shouting from the crowd. – Is there anyone among you who dares to challenge the right of Asa?!"The D'ahs have spoken," Asa declared, not looking at anyone. Then he dropped his shield and suddenly met the eyes of the Messenger, who was trying to put his foot on the sacred sand. It felt like a fire was going to ignite between them. The old man finally twitched his cheek, looked away and took a deep breath.- Of course have! - sounded over Vassa's ear. Too close, and the wolf cub turned its head in disbelief, not believing its ears. The crowd seemed to rush to the side. She darted in one impulse, trying to find out who dared to challenge the one who had just killed Khalsa himself.Musa stepped out of the crowd and froze with his arms outstretched.- Here I am, Musa, the son of Barik, I want to ch
Vassa screamed terribly, as he had never screamed in his life. But his cry was quickly drowned out by the outburst of indignation that exploded in the audience. The circle of d'ahs has not seen such a disgrace in many winters and years. To the cries of indignation, he, not remembering himself, rushed across the sand to his already dead father.- Fool, come back! - belatedly exclaimed, but it was too late.A blade flashed in Vassa's hand. Baring his teeth, Asa raised his hand with the sword, covered in the blood of his father.It rumbled as if a huge leather string had been torn. The knife fell out of the fingers of the wolf cub, buried in the sand. Vassa ripped open the bloody mass of sand with his face. The crowd sighed in one breath, exhaled, choked on their own cry, when Vassa was abruptly dragged back, away from the blade, which only missed his head by a finger.Going through all the curses with which Senches filled his brain over the past twenty-eight winters, Cres quickly pulled
Khalsa and Musa were burned after sunset, right on top of the Sacred Tree. Kisha herself brought the torch to the feet of both, loudly and distinctly uttered all the necessary praises and appeals to the d'ahs, and did not leave the raging flame until the bones of the warriors turned to ashes. Her children were surrounded by monotonously howling former Khalsa dog-heads - they crowded in a circle, wiping their tears and shifting from foot to foot, because they had nowhere else to go. Vassa soon disappeared somewhere, and Cres did not see the wolf cub all night, which seemed to him too long.Keisha collected the ashes left from both fallen warriors, without anyone's help she climbed onto a branch of the Sacred Ref and scattered the ashes in the wind.Cres wanted so badly to drop everything and run to the Skin House, where he left Ada in the care of an eccentric he barely knew. What's wrong with her now? Did this Leshy offend her? He sent Ieassa and Shuna to them - to find out what and ho
- Are you serious?! The messenger is already over a hundred, and I have nine winters and one summer! - Vassa could not stand it and shook all over. - A good defender - he could not even kill that bastard who killed his father in front of everyone. You protected your mother, now you are responsible for her!“Shut up,” said Kres, unwinding the whip in front of Vassa. - You do not understand anything.– I understand everything! Father is gone now, and there is no one to protect mother. You are a coward who only cares about himself!- And this is what the one who climbed into the house with a knife, where the defenseless girl is sleeping, is telling me?“She is not defenseless,” Vassa gritted his teeth in an attempt to hold back tears. - That's all she is. She is to blame! Because of her, Yuvasa died, because of her, rats attack us. She bewitched everyone - Khalsa, father, mother, Messenger, and especially you! You talk about her all the time.- How are you concerned about this? I am sitt
Cres rose with an effort. All of his muscles were curled into one tight knot and were reluctantly relaxing now. The wind roared in the head and in the corners of the hut. He raised his head and only then saw the second dog-head dying on the floor in a foul-smelling puddle. And above him, Leshy's eyes burn with primal malice, illuminated from within by some kind of silvery sheen. In the dim light, the herbalist looked less and less human.- What are you standing for? Grab your grandma and tick!He said, turned on his heels and, as if nothing had happened, went to the door, wiping his bloody palms on his trousers.Cres threw off his stupor, felt for the half-dead Ada and climbed out the window. Vassa followed him.“I’m already tired of sharpening laces with you, wanderer! shouted outside. - If you don't want it to be good, we'll be bad!Footsteps thundered. Closer and closer.“Wait, what if he still has my shava?” - whispered somewhere very close. Cres recognized that voice: it was Golg
A bell rumbled from the side of the cathedral square, announcing the end of another day. People - living and dead - involuntarily added a step. A prickly drizzle charged, and the outlines of the houses blurred, floated along the dirty streets. The first peals of thunder rolled along the horizon - a storm was promised.The coming October tirelessly undermined the day. Early winter breathed after him, which, hand in hand with toothy winds, brought people of various occupations under the roofs of the city: pilgrims and merchants from the East, fallen maidens and gypsies, preachers and predictors of the Third End of the World, breters and mercenaries, merchants of holy relics and Lords of iron - many, many rogues that the Saved Kingdoms are so rich in.Among these waves of playboys, Cres walked invisible. His tall figure under a fur hat flashed in the dim rays of the setting sun. His path lay along black pits, on the site of which there was once a great number of haunts - until recently B
Whispers and gnashings immediately returned, something heavy and clawed began to stir and jump around the corners. Cres picked up a kerosene stove from the table in the hope of dispersing the villains in their holes, or at least to understand who he would face. Only puppet eyes still protruded from the gloom, as if stars were winking from the bottom of a well.Cursing all the Khamers and their mothers, Kres found with difficulty the ajar door hidden behind the desk. Behind it, a low corridor, more reminiscent of an earthen hole, stretched like a snake. At the end, there was a tiny strip of light on the floor. Closing the door tightly behind him, Cres walked straight towards it. A frightening rattle breathed into the back of the head, which did not even think to calm down. The floor suddenly wobbled like the deck of a ship, nearly knocking Cres off his feet. The boards creaked under heels, pressed in and cracked, clinging to the sole with nails. The dark tunnel stubbornly did not want