Elven heritage. Juriy Tashkinov
came at dawn. Everyone has a torch in their hand. Aliens burned several of our houses. They killed Will the blacksmith and abused his daughter. The bandits stole our horses. This freak – he was always writing something. That’s why he’s a clerk! He took advantage of the fact that there are no more people among us who are trained to read and write. I bet he brought trouble to our village before. So yesterday they caught him writing. But this time nothing will work out for the damned Zeymond brat! We’ll burn it. Let the soul of Pisarev burn in the inferno until the end of the human race!
Still and Lewis were carried away by the stranger’s story that they did not notice how one of the peasants was already carrying a torch.
– Stop! You mustn’t kill him! – Still shouted.
– Stranger, do you want to take a place next to him? – said the one with the torch.
– Stop, immediately!
– Who are you, a tramp, to order the headman?
– My name is Stillom, and I am the crown prince of King Dinor! – Still raised his hand, and a gold ring glittered on it. Some of the peasants sank to the ground reverently. But the elder looked with an unkind look.
– Where were you, prince, when the gang attacked us? Return to Tivol. And we will find a way to protect ourselves!
«If you don’t understand normal words, we’ll talk in the language of weapons,» Still took out a sword, «Drop the torch immediately?»
The headman threw the torch into the very center of the haystack. It caught fire.
Lewis jumped up to the condemned writer. He cut the ropes and pushed the weakened man further away from the fire.
– Thank you! – he said and fell to the ground, completely exhausted.
Still and Lewis carried the man to the inn. People moved aside, not wanting to look at the writer.
«Serves him right,» they whispered. – Fate will give everyone what they deserve. We are all in her hands. Tenacious, freak! He probably wrote salvation in a book!
The innkeeper also looked disapprovingly when he saw the writer. But the rest are newcomers, they don’t care about internal squabbles.
Nermall went outside for a while. And a few minutes later he returned, holding a small pinch of an incomprehensible plant in his palm. He rubbed the flower between his fingers and brought it to the writer’s nose. He coughed and opened his eyes.
***
– My name is Murray. I was born here. Honestly, I would love to continue living, but will the locals really let me? My father was a chronicler, and he taught me to put words into coherent sentences. In his free time, he did nothing but write stories. Ideas seemed to fall on me from somewhere above. Sometimes in a dream something new will come, something that no mortal has ever seen. And then during the day they began to have visions. I wrote them down – I can’t keep them in my head! And then I began to notice that my ridiculous stories were not such a tall tale! Even the most unusual ones eventually came true, and in the most unexpected way.
– All writers are prophets, some to a greater extent, some to a lesser extent! Still said.
– Lately I have been having the same dream more and more often. Our village is attacked by a gang from Lorraine. Moreover, they come twice in small detachments. And the third time they march with a whole army towards Tivol. But along the way they burn our village too!
– Are you saying that Lorraine will attack Suthering? – Still whispered.
– I rarely make mistakes. War is almost inevitable!
– But an army from Morelia is coming towards us from the west. We will find ourselves between a rock and a hard place. We must get the book as quickly as possible. Otherwise, the enemies will trample us!
Nermall put a finger to his lips.
– Do you hear? – he took the sword out of its sheath.
– What should we hear?
A out of breath man ran into the tavern.
– Bandits! They attacked again!
The innkeeper hurried to bolt the door.
– Do not rush! – said Duncan. – We need to go out and take a walk in the fresh air!
– You should not! – the innkeeper shouted. – Be quieter. Otherwise, you will leave, and the bandits will rot us!
The soldier, seasoned in battle, just laughed.
***
The Lorraine people were accustomed to taking prey without resistance. Therefore, they came to their senses when three or four heads of the attackers rolled on the ground.
– We will leave no stone unturned in this village! – the gang leader shouted.
– We’ll see! – Still shouted louder. Steel hit steel. Nermall chopped down enemies left and right. Duncan did not lag behind him. Still and Lewis also killed their first enemies in their lives. Half an hour later the Lorraineers decided to retreat:
– We’ll get back to you. And then there will be no stone left on the village. Look! We will burn you to the ground!
Nermall raised his fist. He shouted triumphantly:
– HOORAY! Let them go!
«Perhaps we’ll stay one more night today,» Still said when they returned to the inn.
– Yes, sure! Today, drinks and food are paid for by the Gray Horse!
Still spoke to Murray:
– If you want, come with us. Our path is dangerous…
«It’s safer for me to go with you,» Murray interrupted him, «than to remain among these people who despise and fear me.»
– Perhaps you’re right!
Having had a hearty dinner, the friends went to bed. It’s a long road in the morning.
Chapter 8. Sands
In the morning, without waking up the innkeeper, the friends set off on the road.
***
It seems that there is no end or end to the sands in these parts. Then a small series of stones and low rocks, and again sand. The sun is high. I want to hide behind the mighty crown of some tree. But will cactus spines provide much shade? Even the smells faded away in the desert, except for the dry smell of sand. Still kept reaching for the flask. The other travelers also quickly became exhausted on this seemingly endless journey. Lewis and Nermall were more confident than the others. Lewis grew up in Lorraine and is no stranger to these terrains. And Nermall is generally difficult to surprise or scare with anything. Goosebumps appeared before my eyes every now and then. Therefore, it often seemed that there was a small grove in the distance.
– I would give half my life for five minutes in the shadows! – said Duncan.
«And a mug of cold water,» Still added.
«Or kvass,» said Kurt.
«You are weak,» Lewis smiled.
«I now understand why the Lorraineers constantly strive to attack us!» – Kurt said. – Is Lorraine’s entire land a huge desert? Will the sands run out soon?
«Then there will be less sand,» Lewis said. – Then the stones will come.
Kurt lit the cigarette.
– Aren’t you hot, friend? – said Duncan. – Why are you also warming yourself up from the inside?
The wind was blowing tumbleweeds. The horizon turned black. Nermall looked worriedly at the clouds that were approaching faster