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15

Seventh day of the month of the First Thunders

Ka-Yi in the constellation Ma-Ankin, two and three quarters of a rumba to the Sun, a rumba with a third to the Archer.

Domestic Ka-Yi is fussy and burdensome, like a mother who adores her children and protects them from the outside world at all costs.

The rule of the lunar day: "Any choice is not only your will, it is support or betrayal of your gods."

"Lotion of star rivers" instructs:

“In general, a favorable parking of the stars, opening the way to the improvement of the spirit and body, allows you to feel the quiet steps of the stars along the road of Fate, hear the voice of the past in the hubbub of the present, helps to fight evil around and, most importantly, evil in yourself. It is important to defeat your own selfishness and humble the outward militancy. However, any careless action or word can bring pain and sadness, loss.

Lunar Bend, Ra Gro Manor,

morning watch

It turns out that I completely forgot what it's like to wake up in nature. Well, not quite in nature, of course, within four walls, but walls behind which a real impenetrable forest rustles. He barely opened his eyes, although he went to bed early, and slept without dreams, soundly and soundly. And mother is already impatiently urging:

- Drink milk and go to the garden!

- Where?

I am so dumbfounded by the second part of the phrase that I forget about the meaning of the first and destroy a mug of fresh milk in one sitting.

“To the garden,” Inis repeats.

- Why?

“You need to sweat well, right? The green look is full of coquetry.

- Well, in general ... And what does it have to do with ...

There is nothing better than physical labor in the fresh air! Ma proclaims triumphantly.

For the most part, I agree with her. But only in theory, because in practice it usually turns out the other way around. And this time was no exception: I was provided with a shovel and a non-specific instruction from the category “there, behind a row of apple trees, a couple of strips ... you take off the turf and dig it: just enough to sweat.” But since mother, as a true military man, was used to building several lines of defense at once, she was not satisfied with just sending me to field work and made me put on a thick prickly sweatshirt, judging by the smell, knitted from dog hair (probably from our shepherds and combed out) . Considering that the weather had been clear since the night and nothing prevented the rising sun from warming the earth, Inis's act looked at least a mockery: I would have sweated anyway. Without additional funds. But she frowned sternly and indicated with an authoritative gesture: march forward. One could argue, but I'm so rarely at home that I consider it a waste of time to also squabble with Inis. Since I do not live up to expectations, I will not once again upset a nice woman who loves me in her own way.

It took me an hour and a half to get wet from head to toe. The jersey could be squeezed out, the scarf with which I tied my head, too. For my purposes, it's enough.

Returning to the porch, I loudly proclaim:

- That's it, ma, I can't do it anymore! And by the way, I have a vague suspicion that no one has ever seen that stubble until today...

The words get stuck in my throat because my gaze rests on a thin figure, every line of which I remember by heart.

The delicate silk of blond hair - with a bias not in silver, like mine, but in red gold - seems even brighter on the scarlet cloth of a dress that tightly hugs fragile shoulders and a narrow waist, and hides legs in the folds of a spacious skirt. The head is cunningly tilted, and from this it seems that the eyes, rivaling their color with the spring sky, look at me accusingly. And yet, anything is possible.

All-good Mother, I look like hhag knows what: dirty, in clothes that do not fit, disheveled and wet ... A disgrace. Well, why am I not lucky? If only it could be assumed that Nais would drop by the manor… And by the way, why is she here?

"So you're going to keep quiet?" - Ma scoffs. "You won't even greet your wife?"

Squeezing out:

- Hello, Ney.

A mocking silence serves as my answer.

“You… What brings the beautiful daneke to our humble home?”

“State affairs,” my beloved woman announces with obvious reluctance the reason for her visit.

And why is she ashamed of her own voice? For me, it is more beautiful than any music in the world! Well, harsh. Maybe a little poignant. But I hear more than just sound in it. I hear in him her soul, freedom-loving and independent. A soul that no one can conquer.

- How important?

I am ready to talk about anything, as long as Nais answers me, but my mother shakes her finger:

Did you finish what you started?

— Uh-uh-uh… Not exactly.

- What's stopping you?

But I can postpone...

“You can’t,” Mom says.

Right. I can not. Damn it all! Nearby is the one that I want to press to my chest and not let go anywhere until Eternity crumbles to dust, and I need to return to hateful works. Not fair!

“You… will you still be here, daneke?”

- Maybe. Now the blue eyes are definitely smiling.

And what to say next?

"I'll try to hurry up"? No, I won't try. At least because it is impossible to rush a date with the river.

"Wait for me"? Silly. Nais does only what he sees fit, and an innocent request can be considered an infringement on personal freedom.

- Go already! My mother's hand pushes me on the shoulder. Don't spoil our air!

“Oh… Yes, sorry.

From me it carries, as from ... there is such a horned animal, on whose legs it has cloven hooves. And wet dog hair does not improve the overall bouquet. I retreat with all possible haste. I’ll wash myself, bring myself into a divine form, and then ... I’ll try to improve relations. If they let me.

Whips of weeping willows descend to the very edge of the pool, once created either by nature or by the skillful hands of a master who understands beauty as it really is. One and a half human height in length and slightly less in width - a depression in the ground, the bottom of which is lined with small river pebbles and sprinkled with sparkling black grains of sand. Depth? Two cubits, no more. Yes, you don’t need much: I don’t swim, but lie down.

The font is filled with water from one of the channels of Lavuola once a year, in the spring. And in winter it dries up, depositing at the bottom everything that has accumulated over the long months of heat.

I touch the water with my fingers. Not very hot, but tolerable, and for the month of the First Thunderstorms - in general, a fabulous bath. I fold my discarded clothes next to the replacement stack and descend into the oily, gleaming pool.

Yes, warm. Black blotches on the bottom help the water heat up. Another ten or two days, and it will be possible to cook. Oh, do not bring the All-Good Mother to climb here at the height of summer! But joking aside, I didn't come for entertainment or pleasure. I have come for a blessing.

I get down on my knees. I collect water in a bucket of palms and bring it to my lips.

- Hello, my lady.

The river doesn't answer, just like Nais. But I don't need this answer.

I wash my face, scooping from the pool three times.

I lie down, and my wet hair becomes like outlandish algae, living their own life, led by them alone. Now you just need to wait, not asking and not hoping, because everything was invented and thought out a long time ago.

The water seems either thick as syrup, or light as fluff, but today I can’t focus on familiar sensations, because everything inside me is trembling.

Nais has arrived! It cannot be, but it is. How? What for? For what? Because of which? Or - because of whom? Is she really here because... Exactly! There must have been a rumor around town about a fire at the orphanage. And my participation in it could be painted by anyone, from Alden to Viger. I wonder who she asked? And who deceived her, forcing her to personally find out the state of my health? Or maybe... Maybe she didn't listen to anyone and came because... Is Nais worried? No, that would be too much happiness… Unbearable for me. But if…

This changes everything! Finally, I will be able to tell her what I have been keeping in my chest all these years, and Nais will listen to me. Is my dream about to come true?

I squint with pleasure.

Just wait for the end of my eternal ritual and ...

“Now I know everything about you, Raiden Ra-Gro.

A voice full of desperation.

- Who do you really love? Your cursed river!

I open my eyes.

A fragile figurine framed by willow branches. Eyes ... Sick. Very sick. And lips ... tremble.

- Ney...

"Don't you dare look for more meetings!"

I try to get up, but the icy one brings me back:

- Don't follow me!

And the green canopy closes again. Funeral shroud.