《High Crew》


 Chapter I: Steps to Glory

    From the foam at the edge of the waves, to the bright clean sand, to the white marble of the stairway that led to the ivory shrine above, the scenery looked much like a pristine piece of parchment. History would be written upon it. Ymdaton remembered the place very well. It is here that he made a name for himself by defeating a full squad of tyrsenoi soldiers single-handedly. Those very soldiers who now were ascending by the stairs to engage him. They approached in a tight formation six man wide and seven man long. Shields were locked, spears were projected forward. He clearly needed some advantage other than high ground to survive this encounter.


    A solution was found just beside him. The solution made a pitiful display: a balding old man with a scarce beard, sobbing, mumbling pleas to his god and his captor. Ymdaton sighed. His intention was to take this priest captive and demand a ransom from the temple later. He would have to trade that opportunity for victory in battle. The warrior grabbed the priest by the shoulder and forced him to stand up. Unheeding to cleric¡¯s sobbings, the captor shoved his hostage forward with all force that he could manage. The cleric flew over the first rank of soldiers, landing on the second one. The formation was thrown into disarray. Some enemies tried to remove their spears so the priest won¡¯t get accidentally impaled, some tried to catch him, some were caught by the impact and tumbled down the stairs.


    Ymdaton charged right into the heart of confusion. He caught six of the squad with backstabs. Seven more were disciplined enough to expect him and put up some resistance. Their armour was so similar to his own, that the warrior could find weak points with his eyes closed. He feinted, forcing opponents to raise or lower their shields, and then cut defenseless laps, arms or necks. Soon he felt that the mob might overwhelm him before long. He grabbed one of badly wounded enemies and retreated up the stairs. Ymdaton used the poor sod as a living shield. Soldiers hesitated at first, unwilling to hurt one of their own.


    When they finally decided to pursue, Ymdaton was already few steps higher. This allowed him to repeat the same trick second time through the battle. He shoved the wounded opponent into the charging foes. Confusion grasped his enemies yet again. Some were struck by a falling man and lost footing just as their unlucky brethren did moments ago, some tried to help their comrades. The warrior charged once more, fending off occasional counter attacks with his shield while laying low enemies with his axe. This time he smote fifteen foes total by both honourable and not so blows.


    The only soldiers left were those who fell down the stairway. Some broke too many bones to even get up, but eight of them rushed up at him. Ymadton prepared to clean things up. The encounter was ending in the exact same way as it did the last time.


    Noises of battle to the left catched warrior¡¯s attention. He turned his head to see an another tyrsenoi squad assaulting a lone kinani fighter. The skirmish uncannily mirrored that of his own. Ymdaton even saw the same swings and counterattacks that he did being repeated. The brave man pushed aside enemy spears with his shield. Sun played upon the giant gem which was embed in the middle of it.


    Ymdaton was striding to assist the fellow combatant even before the thought formed in his head. There should not have been any other tyrsenoi troops on the stairway that day. There should not have been any other kinani warriors either. That shield could have been wielt by one man only: Lord of house Abeneewy, who did promote Ymdaton for bravery that he had shown in that battle. A fierce opposition from tyrsenoi soldiers prevented him from reaching his commander. A moment later he witnessed the man being overwhelmed and cut down by enemies.


    A bellow of rage left Ymdaton¡¯s throat. He began to slash enemies left and right with immense fury. His despair was so deep that he lost touch with the reality and continued to swing his weapon blindly until he found himself thrashing against bedsheets with his wife trying to calm him down. It was twilight before dawn. He was at his house and not at the battlefield.


    ¡°What is it, my love? What nightmare took hold of you?¡± she asked while staring right into his eyes with a concerned look on her face.


    Ymdaton gasped and gradually calmed down.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing, Umshama. I¡¯ve just had an exceptionally nonsensical dream.¡±


    ¡°This is very unlike you,¡± she murmured while embracing her husband in an attempt to comfort and lull him. He pushed her away and rapidly stood up.


    ¡°Wake up the serfs. I will be going out early.¡±


    It took Ymdaton only a third of an hour to bathe and dress himself, yet when he entered the dinner room his wife was already there waiting for him to share a meal. Unlike her husband who wore a simple tunic at home, Umshama was wearing a fine dress, had her curly blond hair formed into an elegant coiffure and her wrists adorned with precious bracers. Ymdaton admired her for a moment before recognizing the dress. It was crafted from an expensive cloth of deep red colour that he took as a spoil during the battle that he dreamed of.


    ¡°Why do you stay at the door. Take a sit and have your fill, my love,¡± he heard wife¡¯s words.


    The warrior found himself standing at the entrance consumed by thoughts. Ymdaton sat at the table. He took pieces of poached fish and chewed them mechanically, without paying attention to its certainly delicious taste. He had the recent dream replaying before his inner sight. Soon the warrior stood up and left for his arming chamber without even finishing his meal. Umshama threw a look filled with compassion in his wake, yet said nothing.


    Ymdaton passed through his house, submerged in his thoughts still. Usually he will stop by one of many trophies of his past campaigns which hung from walls of creamy stone or stood in corners. He was not in the mood for rekindling memories now. Ahisys, a serf in charge of the armoury noticed his master and silently followed him. As they entered the arming chamber, the warrior finally paid attention to his servant.


    ¡°Did you have enough time to prepare my arms? I am leaving quite early, after all.¡±


    ¡°Do not insult my works, master. Everything was ready for your departure even last evening.¡±


    With those words serf began to encase the warrior in his battle attire. Ymdaton concentrated purely on the feel of armour touching his body, purging his mind of thoughts. First came a thick quilted jacket. A steel hauberk was put upon it. Then the serf applied a pair of greaves and a pair of arm guards, both made of bronze. A helm of steel with massive cheekpieces and a metal crest on top of it came hext. The helmet was embossed with images of various serpentine sea creatures. A buckler as wide across as a man¡¯s arm, made out of wood with a thin layer of steel upon its face, was fastened to his back with a leather strap.


    Finally, the serf lifted up a battle axe from one of the weapon racks along the wall. The warrior stopped Ahisys and took the weapon from him. He removed a protective leather pocket from axe¡¯s blade and rubbed his palm crosswise along its edge.


    ¡°As sharp as it could be, good work,¡± said Ymdaton and smiled. The process of arming had returned confidence to his soul. It always did so.


    ¡°Do not praise me for things I ought to do, master.¡±


    Serf sheathed the blade again and put the weapon into a loop on warrior¡¯s belt.


    Now fully armed and armored, Ymdaton headed for the entrance only to meet his wife before the doors. She moved closer and embraced her husband, while giving him a goodbye kiss.


    ¡°I do not dare to discuss your doubts, but let them all be false. I believe in you, my love. Mahandahy looks after you.¡±


    The warrior gave her a nod and left his home.


    He moved through empty streets of Isary. It was still too early, only half an hour after the dawn, so Ymdaton decided to take a longer way to the residence of house Abeneewy. He passed through several peripheral streets until he reached a saltwater canal. The man walked up the embankment with a slow pace. Occasionally a boat passed by, carrying goods to the port or the marketplace which was also stationed along the sea cost.


    The warrior loved his city. During his life he saw settlement of tyrsenoi which had more bombastic architecture or grand metropolises of the Arsaci Empire. Yet none were as lovely as Isary. Most buildings here were of simple design: brick shaped houses with flat roofs that were made of similar yellowish-white stone. However, every family added their own touch to their home: walls were either painted, or covered with creeping vines, or even adorned with bas-reliefs.


    After half an hour of traversing the stone embankment, a sight to his right hand changed from a row of houses into a fence as tall as a man. Behind it treetops could be occasionally seen. A hundred more steps and he reached an archway built into the fence. Ymdaton looked up and read the inscription carved into an arc: ¡°Heroes of Abeneewy are cast immortal here in stone and legend.¡± Inside was a vast area of tamed nature: trees, bushes, and lush grass, riddled with crossing alleys. The warrior wandered through the garden for a while before taking a sit at a bench beside a statue of marble. He felt an urge to read a scroll which laid in his belt pouch once more. The warrior refrained from taking it out since he remembered a message inside to the letter:


    ¡°I, Azytenisar, head of house Abeneewy, was informed of your exploits during the punishing raid at tyrsenoi city Vetluna. This deed of yours in service of the house impressed me and all my advisors. I think that exceptional skills like yours should be used in the most important tasks. Therefore I invite you to join a squad under my immediate personal command which is best known as High Crew.


    If you are willing to accept this proposal of mine then present yourself at the enclave of house Abeneewy on the sixth day of the fourth moon of the six thousand ninety-six year, at fourth hour after Ymdahy leaves. Then and there you will be officially inducted as a member of High Crew.¡±


    There was finally enough courage in Ymdaton¡¯s heart to acknowledge the nature of his fears. He was not afraid of any mortal enemy, and he had proven it many times over. However, the standards of the Abeneewy¡¯s most elite formation were impossibly high. This military force spawned countless heroes of legend over the years. There was a good example right before him. The statue in front of him depicted Sumiaton, a warrior who has served in High Crew of house Abeneewy some thirty years ago.


    He was depicted fully armed, holding in his raised hand an eyeball bigger than a man¡¯s head. It is said that the eye was that of a sea monster which Sumiaton had slain on his own. That was but one example amongst many. What challenges could Ymdaton meet in the service of the house lord? Was he up to it? The warrior glanced at the inscription at the postament. It said: ¡°A brave man may fear an enemy, a coward fears encounters.¡±


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    ¡°I am not a coward,¡± he said to himself and laughed. Ymdaton stood up and headed into the opposite direction to that from which he entered the garden.


    Another arch which led directly where the residence of the house Abeneewy was situated. It was not exactly a palace, rather just a really large traditional house. Four storeys high and almost twenty paces wide it loomed over the street. The walls of the building were adorned with a bright mosaic which depicted deeds of long gone house members. The warrior approached massive doors of the residence and knocked. Not long after a man opened. He was obviously a servant, yet he was dressed richer than some wealthy merchants in the city: a robe of purple overlapped with a red silken cape, golden bracers on wrists, a cap decorated with precious jewels.


    ¡°Please state your identity and business with the house,¡± said the serf.


    Ymdaton silently handed him the scroll. The man read it and eyed the visitor again.


    ¡°Oh, so you are famous Crewslayer. Please enter and be welcome.¡±


    The warrior stepped through the doors which were closed behind him by the servant.


    ¡°Please, follow me, I will show you to the audience chamber.¡±


    The serf led him through halls and corridors. Expensive carpets and drapes were everywhere, pieces of art and trophies of war were put to display along the walls.


    ¡°I do not like that moniker. It sounds rather grim.¡±


    ¡°Crewslayer you mean? It sounds rather accurate. Didn¡¯t you slay two scores and two tyrsenoi soldiers at Vetluna. It equals the average size of a warship¡¯s crew.¡±


    A giant curved sword as long as Ymdaton was tall hung from the wall to the left. What kind of a warrior could have wielt it, he wondered.


    ¡°I understand the meaning of it, yet I would prefer something more cheerful.¡±


    ¡°I guess, ending forty two lives is nothing to cheer about,¡± there was not a hint of accusation in servant¡¯s tone. He continued without giving the guest an opportunity to answer.


    ¡°I am afraid that your induction into the ranks of High Crew will have to wait. You see, there is an embassy from a far away land demanding lord Azytenisar¡¯s immediate attention. Your case will be dealt with right after theirs.¡±


    As he was saying this, they finally reached the audience hall. It was situated at the last storey in the very heart of the building. A square room twenty paces wide, it was filled with various kinds of people.


    ¡°I should take a leave now to attend my master. You will meet him soon enough.¡± with these words the servant left him and headed to the opposite side of the chamber. Now Ymdaton noticed a throne there and also another door behind it through which the serf left.


    The warrior took a moment to look around. The place was really bright: not only one wall consisted entirely of huge windows, but a large portion of ceiling was also absent, showing the blue sky above. Ymdaton examined the folks in the hall and noticed two distinct groups: to the right of the throne stood armed men who displayed signs of wealth such as pieces of steel armour and artistically decorated arms. To the left there were similarly rich looking civilians. He guessed that the armed bunch were probably High Crew and moved to stand beside them.


    No one seemed to notice him at all. It took Crewslayer a while to understand why. A group of people standing in the middle of a chamber were those who stole all looks. Those were a weird bunch. The two standing closer to the throne wore warm clothes almost completely enclosing their bodies: baggy thick shirts, trousers made of similar material, boots and fur-lined hats. Yet Ymdaton¡¯s attention was almost instantly drawn to the four figures behind them.


    They were massive men encased in armor from toes to heads. They wore hauberks which were much longer than those of kinani, almost reaching knees, with additional sleeves protecting arms from shoulder to elbow. Their knees were covered with metal pads, their hands were clad in chain gloves. Teardrop-shaped helmets and aventails were worn upon their heads. Ymdaton wondered just how hard it would be to cut one of them through all that armour.


    ¡°These are obvious land dwellers. No marine would put that much metal on himself unless he wants to end his life by accidentally sinking during the boarding action,¡± said the man at his right.


    Crewslayer turned his head to see a warrior of his height, yet so broad in shoulders, that his stature appeared square-like. Eyes of that man were colourless, fishlike, giving him a cold emotionless look. The stranger smiled, breaking the impression instantly.


    ¡°My name is Abimnupal, welcome to High Crew.¡±


    ¡°I am¡­¡± Ymdaton started but the man interrupted him.


    ¡°I know well who you are. We all heard enough about those shrine stairs. Shush now, the liege is coming.¡±


    The doors behind the throne opened once more. First entered a serf who guided him through the house. He stopped right beside the throne and stood there. Next one to enter was a man whom Crewslayer saw many times from afar, listening to his speeches before or after the battle, yet never so close. Lord of house Abeneewy, Azytenisar. With a sure yet not rash pace he reached the throne and sat himself there.


    He wore a robe made of expensive material, but of a simple design. No more needless clothing was hanging from his shoulders, no excessive jewelry could be seen on his neck or hands. The only decoration were two bracers of pure gold mimicking traditional armguards of kinani warriors. His head was shaved clean, his stern face was adorned with a thick black beard which reached to the lower part of his chest. Azytenisar scanned the hall with a piercing look of his green eyes. Ymdaton could have sworn that the lord noticed him especially. The gaze of the house master stayed at the embassy.


    ¡°Azytenisar, son of Hannisar, lord of house Abeneewy, Unstumbling under the Stars, Shield against Despoilers, Scourge of Vetluna, would like to hear your message, o strangers from afar,¡± proclaimed the serf.


    One of the outlanders nodded and started to speak in surprisingly fluent kinani language, albeit blemished with thick accent.


    ¡°Greetings, lord of Abeneewy. My name is Blagoslav, beside me is the man named Dalnovyd. We are tasked with delivering the message of our people, drevlyani. I will talk for us both, since only I speak in your language. We come from the land far away which called Odwitchni forest. It may be unfamiliar to you for it has no access to the sea and your kin is rarely seen there. Yet we heard of Ostrovyani, people of Hundred Isles, and their exploits.


    You are known through the whole world as crafty travellers and intimidating warriors. You see, my lord, our city state which is called Khladnetz recently tragically lost its¡­¡± it looked as if the translator struggled to find the right word. Another civilian from the embassy said something in a foreign language. The speaker continued.


    ¡°Lost its lord-protector. Since then we tried our best to settle our inner problems while fending off enemies from the outside. Yet our own efforts are not nearly enough. Our land is harsh. It could crush us even without help from neighboring states. When we almost lost our hopes a gathering of all wise people was held. They decided that if there is no one to rule us from the inside, we will try to invite the outsider. Your kin, my lord, seemed to us just strong and witty enough to deal with our land.


    To summarise our proposal: we offer you our state as a kingdom to rule. You will hold the title of knez which equals to king of yours. Please, o mighty lord, save us from the disaster that is a nonexistent ruler and steer as into prosperity as you will.¡±


    Azytenisar listened carefully. When the ambassador ended his speech, the lord asked him a single question.


    ¡°Tell me but one thing. Why do you come to me with this proposition. There are dozens of states on Hundred Isles on which plenty of mighty families take up residence. You could have asked any of them. You could have asked the actual kings, not a humble lord of a single house like me.¡±


    The one who called himself Blagoslav was visually confused. The other one again told him something in their language.


    ¡°Truth be told, my lord, you are our last hope. We visited almost every powerful house of island people and got turned down everywhere. You are the last man who has the power to save us. Please consider this when you are making your decision,¡± said the translator.


    Everyone was silent for a moment, awaiting lord¡¯s decision.


    ¡°I will, be assured of it. I will collect my thoughts and discuss this proposal with my advisors. Return in three days to hear my final verdict on it,¡± declared Azytenisar finally.


    Whispers passed through the audience in the hall. Members of delegation gave respectful bows and left the chamber.


    ¡°Quiet. I will hear all your opinion in turn, there is no need for murmurs. For now, let us continue with Ymdaton, son of Hamysbir. Come closer.¡± said the lord of Abeneewy.


    Crewslayer was surprised at first to hear the liege talk directly to him, but in a moment he collected himself and did as he was told.


    Azytenisar examined him with a long look. He didn¡¯t say anything but raised from his seat and came as close as a hand breadth to the warrior.


    ¡°Seeing you in my audience chamber, I suppose that you have made your decision of joining my band of brave men. If so, than an oath of fealty will be required of you. Do you pledge your blade and your life to my command? Do you swear to follow my orders doubtlessly to the better or to the worse? Do you swear to defend house Abeneewy as fierce as you would have defended your own?¡± asked the lord.


    Ymdaton followed a sudden impulse and gotten on one knee.


    ¡°On my father¡¯s name, before the eye of Mahandahy who brings victory and Ulamsilis who lead, I swear so.¡±


    Azytenisar took the warrior by the hand and raised him.


    ¡°Then welcome to High Crew. Now, why don¡¯t we begin with my new subordinate? Tell me, son of Hamysbir, what do you think of the proposal of these dwellers in Big Land?¡± asked his lord.


    A wave of laughs passed through the hall. Crewslayer did not feel confused though, the moment was too powerful for him.


    ¡°I am not versed in politics, my lord. It feels wrong for me to exchange our mastery of the sea for kingship in the woods. Yet I can not see it with the eyes of the lord of house Abeneewy so I will not make any statement. I, however, admire the craftsmanship of their armour. Perhaps we could learn a thing or two from their blacksmiths,¡± he answered genuinely .


    Another series of laughs rolled through the chamber. Even Azytenisar smiled this time:


    ¡°True enough. I thank you for an honest answer. Now receive my first command: in three days come to this place once more and hear my decision. For now you may leave.¡±


    Ymdaton bowed respectfully and left the residence with the heart full of anticipation.

 Chapter II: To Make an Impression

    Ymdaton¡¯s impression of awed demeanour was probably terrible. People around him had eyes full of devotion, had lips silently moving, reciting holy verses. His insincerity could have been spotted the moment someone paid attention to him. Fortunately, all gazes were locked either on a priest, who was singing prayers, or on an altar filled to the brim with generous sacrifices, or on a statue.


    The later was a magnificent sight indeed. There was a fully armoured warrior twenty cubits high, cast in bronze, his one feet on a prone body of his fallen enemy, his raised hand holding a helm of tyrsenoi design richly adorned with precious gems. His face was cheerful, clearly celebrating the victory, yet a single tear rolled down his right cheek.


    There was a curved line carved in the domed ceiling. Real Mahandahy could see the image of himself every day of the year, for the aperture was designed to track his cyclical path through the sky. Ymdaton doubted that the celestial being would like the overly dramatic rendition of himself. Crewslayer doubted that the sacrifice even made any difference. Sea Above was just as dangerous as Sea Betwixt. Did stars even have any spare time to pay attention to people living below them? Did they have any spare strength to share? Would they like to share it with literal beggars who cried for help and tried to bribe them with vulgar goods?


    ¡°O mighty bringer of victory, guardian of Isary, accept these humble gifts and support your stepchild Azytenisar in whatever undertaking he will perform. Let his enemies be crushed, let his opponent be bereft of profit, let him have the power to take what is his,¡± the priest proclaimed and set on fire sacrifices that were placed upon the altar. The smoke escaped through the hole in the ceiling, carrying the essence of offerings up, to the celestial realm.


    There were many distinct kind of a fish living upon a coral reef. Some are predators, making their living by shedding the blood of others, some are peaceful laborers, some are tricksters, switching their colours to fool everyone. The crowd before the shrine¡¯s mighty colonnade was no different to the fish upon the reef and just as motley: warriors, craftsmen, courtiers. They were waiting to hear their master, who left the temple as a captain was supposed to leave his vessel: after all his subordinates.


    ¡°As some of you may have already guessed, my decision will be to accept the proposal of outlanders,¡± spoke he to the gathering, ¡°Before us lies a task which is not easy by any means. Many will not survive to see it through. Therefore, those of my underlings who wish to stay at Isary will be allowed to do so. My younger brother Ittenisar will rule the house in my absence. Those who will not leave with me, should honour him as their lord and master.


    You may think this to be madness: trading lordship of the sea for kingship in the faraway forest. Yet I ask you to try and perceive it differently.


    It is known that one sailing the sea can see further than one striding the land. But I dare to gaze even further than the former one. We are invited to rule over the land of countless riches which neither Arsaci nor Sakib have managed to conquer. Your children will be lords in their own right, enjoying unseen prosperity. You need only to support me in this expedition.¡±


    There were whispers among men. Ymdaton himself experienced doubts. He was ready to reach the other side of the sea if such was the will of the house lord. But settling a colony somewhere deep in Big Land, far away from any shores, from any connections to home was a different matter. He loved his island, his city, the way of life that both brought upon. However distant was the target of his journey, it was always the pleasure to return back with spoils, and tales, and presents for Umshama.


    Crewslayer glanced around. There stood warriors of High Crew with their polished armour and colourful shields. Most of them had their eyes radiating with resolution and anticipation even. They were eager to follow their lord anywhere. It would have been unseemly to waver away from his first task just few days after he gave the oath, thought Ymdaton.


    ¡°To the distant land!¡± he followed an impulse, shouting and raising his fist to the air. People around looked at the warrior with surprise, which quickly turned into expressions of approval. Some crewmen followed his example. As waves under the blowing wind, the crowd soon rocked with chanting.


    Lord Azytenisar nodded satisfiedly and signaled the end of the meeting. The warrior called Abimnupal whom Ymdaton met few days before catched up with him on the way home.


    ¡°You kindled their spirits nicely,¡± said he.


    ¡°I but followed a momentary urge to express my feelings. I have no idea why everyone got that inspired,¡± shrugged his shoulders Crewslayer.


    ¡°Don¡¯t play coy, it does not fit your new position,¡± smiled the warrior, ¡°It is a valuable quality to be able to influence hearts of men. It will come handy during your service, for in High Crew we are not only warriors, but also messengers and companions to our lord, often tasked with commanding lesser troops. Speaking of which, we will feast this evening to celebrate the new undertaking of our master. You are invited as well, it will be a great opportunity to bond with other crewmen away from formalities of service. At the dusk in Abeneewy mansion.¡±


    ¡°I will certainly come,¡± answered Ymdaton, energy ringing in his voice.


    ¡°What kind of task is that?! You¡¯ve just got the greatest promotion of your life and that is your first duty? Settle in some stinking forest, far from the sea, far from home, far from me?¡± showered Umshama her husband with splenetic questions.


    ¡°It¡¯s not as simple as that¡­¡± began answering he.


    ¡°It is just as simple. You are going to settle in some eastern mudhole just because your lord of the house decided to spice up his life. He gave you the option to refuse. You are rarely home as is with your endless campaigns. I was always closing my eyes to all amusements that you had during them. And now you decided to simply leave me,¡± the tempo of her speech seemed to rise with each sentence.


    ¡°Who are we to question lord Azytenisar¡¯s vision,¡± told Crewslayer, trying to keep himself calm, ¡°Yes, he allowed me to refuse. Yet I¡¯ve only just entered High Crew. I¡¯m not going to give up on my very first order. That ¡®mudhole¡¯ is a land of endless opportunities,¡± he paused for a moment, recent speech of his lord resurfacing in his memory, ¡°Think about our children. When we conquer that land, I will take you there. Our children will be lords in the domain of countless riches.¡±


    ¡°Provided you survive,¡± interrupted she, ¡°There are also bloodthirsty land dwellers and weird things feeding on flesh of men. If you died there, our children would not even be born. Have you honestly thought what could happen? If you died there, would you be sent to the western shore as it is required? Or would you stay as an ungoer to haunt these wretched lands forever?¡±


    She put her palm over her mouth and looked as if she was about to burst in tears. Ymdaton moved closer to comfort her, yet Umshama stayed him with a hand. His wife regained composure just a moment later.


    ¡°Promise me,¡± told she much more quietly, ¡°Promise me that you won¡¯t do anything stupid, chasing the glory in battle as you always do. Promise me that you will survive and take me to live with you happily in whatever home you¡¯ll choose for us.¡±


    ¡°I promise,¡± uttered Ymdaton in similarly quiet voice.


    ¡°Let every star give you it¡¯s guidance,¡± said she and embraced him.


    A sour feeling nested in Crewslayer¡¯s guts as he left his home in the evening. It was not that his wife managed to shake his resolve. He never let her influence his decisions. He followed his will until he had proven to be right or, sometimes, wrong by himself. Yet even as he disregarded her opinions, he also understood that she acted out of affection for him. Berating Umshama for caring for her husband, albeit while disagreeing with her, felt simply wrong to Ymdaton. He loved that woman, after all.


    When he knocked on the doors of Abeneewy residence he hoped greatly, that the feast inside would chase his dark moods away. Same old servant opened. His clothing was completely different this time. The only recurring detail that Crewslayer noticed was a brooch that held old man¡¯s mantle in place. It was a round piece of bronze with a large diamond embedded in the middle, apparently, mimicking the famous relic of the house that he served. Again, the man guided him through the house.


    ¡°You are late, you¡¯ve missed a lot of frightening stories about the place of our destination. These are told around the table all the evening,¡± said the servant.


    ¡°Be so kind and give me the summary,¡± murmured Ymdaton, glancing at small statues which were placed in the corners of corridors and rooms that they were passing.


    ¡°There is no point, really,¡± told the old man, ¡±These tales generally follow the pattern ¡®the eastern the weirder¡¯. Like accounts of men who had hands instead of legs and legs instead of hands which are said to live in the easternmost corners of former Arsaci empire.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d still like to hear.¡±


    ¡°Well, they tell of kinani merchants who went there and saw the endless forest where evil spirits and strange monsters reign supreme. People who live there hide in their small cities behind tall walls, never coming out without good reason. Creatures of the woods hunt them, gorge on their flesh and drink their blood. They are in a constant fight for survival,¡± the lack of enthusiasm in the voice of the servant did not fit the wondrous things he was talking about.


    ¡°Sounds too brutal and dramatic,¡± whistled Ymdaton.


    ¡°I thought so also. These stories about nations that were forged between the flame, the cold, and unforgiving nature are always exaggerated. There are also protectors, their magnificent leaders standing between the men and the devils from the forest.¡±


    ¡°Like that one who abandoned the city that asked for our help,¡± shrugged Crewslayer, ¡°Probably not being so magnificent and dying in some stupid way.¡±


    ¡°Who knows, we don¡¯t have much intel on these guardians of dreavlyani,¡± the old man was suddenly quite serious, ¡°We can not even get a coherent description from the embassy, since we are talking through the interpreter and it seems that much of the substance is lost in translation. They tell of divine creatures taking forms of massive beasts, possessing immense power and wisdom. But then arsaci described their heavenly kings as giants ten cubits high  whose flesh was made of sun rays. The Cursed One ultimately proved that their throats could be cut just as those of mortal men. We arrived, by the way.¡±


    In the end of another corridor there were massive wooden doors. The servant swung them open, revealing a vast hall lit with torches. On the walls hung countless trophies of war: weapons, armour, banners. There were several tables in the middle of the chamber where all the High Crew sat, drinking, laughing, conversating. Fruits, meats, fish, and various kinds of wine were served. The old man silently left Ymdaton, who stepped inside. One of warriors noticed him and beckoned to sit alongside, which Crewslayer did.


    ¡°Welcome aboard,¡± said the man as Ymdaton took a place at the bench, ¡°My name is Hasdruhy and you, I believe, is the one called Crewslayer.¡±


    Ymdaton flinched at the sound of his moniker. The man poured some wine in the goblet before him.


    ¡°This one,¡± the crewman pointed at the warrior who was standing and telling something to the audience, ¡°Is Ahyq. He is currently narrating us a story about the wild land that we will try to conquer soon. Listen, he never brings a boring tale.¡±


    ¡°And so, the said merchant reached a town which was built upon a swamp. He brought with himself many sacks of silver, for it is said that in these lands this metal is much rarer than a gold. He went there to the trading house where exchanges were performed and sold it.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    During that time he noticed a lonely sack which was lying in the corner of the trading hall. He observed it for several days. No one came to pick up it so the merchant came to conclusion that the sack was abandoned. With this thought he opened it to see what was inside. To his surprise it was full of gold coins. That said, a golden coin among these distant wild people is not a golden coin that you would imagine. It is rather a small six sided bar with slightly curved edges.


    Some other man would have taken the sack without a second thought. But merchant was an upright and honourable being. He announced at the top of his voice that there was a forgotten sack of gold. Surprisingly, no one seemed to be interested in it. He searched for the owner of gold a day more, yet found none. Finally an old trader from the city approached him, telling that the sack was there in the corner for years. It is said that the gold was cursed and lied here since the last owner of it was killed where he stood, right in the middle of trading house by evil spirits.


    There is no such thing as cursed goods, protested the merchant, men bring curses upon themselves while foolishly using those goods. He then took the sack alongside his other profits. No curses fell upon him. In fact, he reached the sea undisturbed and sailed home.


    But as he was travelling west, to Hundred Isles, his serfs noticed that the number of coins in the sack was diminishing every day. Again, the merchant was an upright and honourable man. He could not think of his closest peers stealing from him. So, at first, he ordered the belongings of mercenaries who were employed to protect his expedition to be searched. No trace of gold was found. Then his serfs were questioned. That made the merchant extremely unhappy, for his servants were all tested through many undertakings. Still, no trace of gold was found.


    Finally, the merchant ordered his companions to be tested. He pardoned himself before them, feeling a great deal of guilt. To his shock, coins were found in the quarters of his closest advisor. The gold was not simply hidden, but weaved among many ropes so that it formed a liking of a metal cape. So the advisor was brought before him and questioned.


    The man told to the merchant that he would need that cape when shedding the previous one. Saying this, advisor proceeded to tear off his own skin with his bare hands, leaving only naked meat. He then folded into the drape of golden coins and thrown himself overboard. There he swam away, leaving a bloody trail in the water. Despite the weight of precious metal he did not seem to sink even a little bit.


    All the crew was so shocked that no one tried to stop him, only gazing dumbstruck in his wake. The merchant mourned and cursed the moment that he saw the sack in the trading house. Never again he returned to distant woody lands. He spread this story far and wide, so other traders would be warned also against visiting there.¡±


    The crowd in the hall became remarkably more quiet. Whispers could be heard here and there, some warriors silently gulped their whine with grim faces.


    ¡°Enough with spooky tales¡± raised his voice Abimnupal who was sitting at the other side of the table, ¡°Let us welcome our new brother in arms, Ymdaton, also known as Crewslayer.¡±


    Everyone turned to Ymdaton, he rose and saluted crewmen with his goblet. Most of men regarded him with friendly eyes, some uttering words of greeting.


    ¡°Tell us of your latest battle at Vetluna,¡± continued Abimnupal in an upbeat manner.


    ¡°You all heard of it already, I am sure. There is no need to repeat it once more,¡± answered Crewslayer. There was but playful display of resolve in his tone, while he circled the gathering with a sly look. Warriors urged him to tell anyway. Finally, he agreed and, filling his lungs full of air, began with his first step at the enemy shore that day.


    Telling his tale was akin to charming a snake. While the serpent heard the pleasant melody it stood up from its jar and swayed, displaying interest. But once there was silence it quickly coiled back to take rest. While Ymdaton was describing scenes of violence, swings of a blade, broken shields, severed limbs and spilled blood, the attention of gathered men was fully his. But when he tried to speak of fine views or fair streets of Vetluna, of feelings and impressions that the war torn city gave to the observer, they instantly lost focus and entertained themselves with wine or chatter.


    The flow of his story was forced into a shape of a constant chain of struggle and murder. He described each his confrontation in uttermost detail, every blow, parry, and step narrated in turn. The scene of his final and definitive skirmish, which rewarded him with his moniker and the place among his listeners, became so bloated and stretched, that his throat became dry when he finally reached its end. His efforts were not without fruit though, as warriors cheered and praised him, rising their goblets.


    ¡°That is impressive, provided you did not make half of the story up,¡± came quite a tipsy voice from Ymdaton¡¯s left side.


    He turned his head to regard a warrior beside him. Despite being there all the evening, only now he did  catch Crewslayer¡¯s attention. The man had round cheeks, weak chin and sharp pointed nose. His features somehow reminded Ymdaton of a pigeon. Eyes of a crewman were unfocused, his breath reeked of spirit remarkably.


    ¡°I would not dishonour myself with empty bragging, I assure you,¡± answered him Crewslayer, trying to sound as calm as he could manage.


    ¡°Sure,¡± the man idly waved his hand before Ymdaton¡¯s face. Bronze flashed on his wrist: it was customary among kinani warriors to wear armguards even with casual clothing, to make their craft known, ¡°But it also sounds to me like you got unschatted out of it mainly due to luck. And luck won¡¯t help you in High Crew.¡±


    ¡°Who knows, at least I spend more time fighting than polishing my armour,¡± Crewslayer raised his elbow to show his own armguard, which was green and battered. The remark was met with some chuckles from the audience.


    ¡°We do not use vulgar customs to prove ourselves here,¡± shrugged the warrior, ¡°We are proven by serving houselord himself for many years, which you can¡¯t say.¡±


    ¡°Now, now,¡± a laugh came from the distant. It was the man who was telling the story when Ymdaton came in, Ahyq,  ¡°Azandahy, my peer, why don¡¯t you just perform a friendly sparring and see whose word are true. There is a training ground right in the yard.¡±


    The audience was split on this proposal. Some were muttering agreement, while others were protesting.


    ¡°I won¡¯t fight a drunk man,¡± shook his head Ymdaton, ¡°Let him get sober and then I might give it a try.¡±


    ¡°It is beneath me,¡± the warrior also disagreed to Crewslayer¡¯s surprise, ¡°I won¡¯t spar with some rookie without reputation. Let him prove himself in battle first.¡±


    ¡°Oh common,¡± pressed Ahyq, ¡°If he is as bad as you say, it will be over quickly.¡±


    Now the crowd agreed almost unanimously, even the man called Hasdruhy smirked and nodded to Ymdaton. Crewslayer did not have time to as much as blink, when he already was standing on the sand in the courtyard of Abeneewy residence. In his hands were wooden axe and shield, noticeably heavier than real ones. His opponent was few steps away. Now it was obvious to Ymdaton, that the crewman was a good head taller than him, albeit his build was much leaner. They were standing in the circle of spectators: High Crew in its entirety. Abimnupal was somewhat separated from the crowd. He glanced at both the competitors.


    ¡°Fight as you would do in the real battle. With the exception of intentional mutilations like eye pokes and such. Fight with all you got, but do not forget that you are comrades of the same crew,¡± explained he in a loud voice, ¡°These are the rules. Begin now!¡±


    FIghters closed the distance, their weapons clashed. Soon Crewslayer thanked the stars that his opponent was drunk, for his technique was almost flawless. All his moves were at the right moment, all his counterattacks were extremely difficult to avoid. Ymdaton doubted, if he could beat this man in the sober state, all the advantage that he had now was the slight clumsiness in pigeon-face¡¯s movements caused by wine. The warrior also had really long limbs, so he could punish Ymdaton for advancing long before Crewslayer could reach him with a blade.


    It took a long time of dancing around, waiting for a missed step, before Ymdaton managed to hook the sword¡¯s blade with his axe and pull it away. The attempt was met with some cheers from the audience, but it failed in a way that Crewslayer could not have even imagine. His opponent did not let his weapon to be twisted away, he forced it back into the right angle, making Ymdaton stagger instead. He followed with a riposte, that Crewslayer barely deflected with a shield. Azandahy¡¯s frame was lanky, nothing suggested such a tremendous power behind it.


    Ymdaton frantically tried to come up with a plan. Losing a fight to a drunken angry man in front of his new crew was not an option at all. More power, more height, and probably more experience were at foe¡¯s side. But there should have been something that could be used as an opening. More power, more height. There it was.


    Crewslayer made several attempts and closed the distance between him and pigeon-face some more. The opponent allowed him, for they were now too close for a proper axe swing. Perhaps he saw a sign of panic in it and planned to play on it. Ymdaton was not panicking, with next step he placed his foot behind opponent¡¯s heel, so their shins crossed. This way their limbs acted as a lever and Azandahy¡¯s significantly longer leg made it but more potent. Crewslayer pushed his shin and his opponent lost balance, falling on his back.


    A kick to the wrist by Ymdaton followed immediately, to negate the danger of a riposte with a sword. It worked also, the weapon was dropped by pigeon-face. Crewslayer made almost no mistakes in his onslaught and was ready to finish the opponent with a quick cut. His opponent still found one. For a moment in which he made his kick he was briefly standing on one leg. Azandahy managed to seize the opportunity, locking that leg between his shins and twisting it, dragging Ymdaton to the ground also. From there their battle devolved into an ugly exchange of kicks and punches.


    They were quickly separated by other crewmen. Abimnupal signaled the end of the fight, announcing the draw. Azandahy, restrained by his fellow warriors, tried to shake them off and drilled Ymdaton furiously with a look. Crewslayer did not show any desire to continue the sparring so he was not kept in place, yet his stare was just as fierce. Some members of High Crew left, taking angry pigeon-face with them. That signalled the end of the meeting and other warriors also began leaving. Abimnupal approached Ymdaton and hit him on the shoulder.


    ¡°Good fight,¡± told he, ¡°I liked your improvisation.¡±


    ¡°I could not beat a drunk man,¡± answered Crewslayer grimly.


    ¡°You could not beat a most decorated drunk man in High Crew,¡± chuckled the warrior, ¡°And still made him sweat. Good fight. Welcome, now properly. I hope you are ready for our coming journey.¡±


    ¡°I am ready. I hope,¡± Ymdaton suddenly smiled ¡°I hope he won¡¯t hold grudge with me forever after this evening.¡±


    ¡°Trust me, the fight will be a second worst thing he regrets tomorrow, right after the amount of wine that he drunk.¡±


    Both crewmen laughed and left the residence, discussing the matters of future and stories of past in the most friendly manner.

 Chapter III: Proofs of Another Kind

    The oven was placed close to the entrance. This way the scent of food spread not only through the hall, but also to the street, attracting more visitors. The counter stood at the very threshold separating the inner space of the tavern from the street. The inn lacked the whole front wall, so that people might freely walk in from the crowd outside.  Of patrons there was no shortage. Tables inside were almost full, there was also plenty of men in a hurry who ate without entering. There were circular holes in the surface of counter where jars were placed with boiled shrimp, minced salt fish, dried fruit, and similar fast snacks for that kind of audience.


    The other half of visitors had the opposite problem: too much of free time to spend. Those took their seats inside and ordered proper meals. It was not only the food that was served in the tavern. Various ways of entertainment were present: music, song, and dance by local artists; dice and betting; all kinds of wine and stronger spirits; pleasures of flesh for sale. Ymdaton did not like the place. To spend an evening there was a dirty pastime. But sometimes his friends were all intent to dig in that dirt, so he could not refuse the company, while sometimes he was simply in the mood for it. It was the later case this time.


    The tavern was called ¡°The Last Blow of Southern Wind¡±. Crewslayer found the title too poetic for a simple drinking-and-whore-house. The place was located in a port district of Qyris, the northernmost kinani colony. The thought which led him there was rather simple: the tavern symbolized civilization as he knew it. There was an inn like that in every port district of every kinani city. Qyris was going to become the last settlement on that list. One more step to the east would bring him into savage shoreless lands. And so he became resolute to spend those last days within kinani society loudly and merrily.


    His visit became somewhat more complicated. Instead of simply submerging in a drunken haze and drowning in the embrace of some girl with painted face and greedy eyes, he met an interesting person. The man who was sitting before him was named Ahamis. He insisted that he was in the east, deep in the woods. After some rounds of wine for which Ymdaton graciously paid, the stranger agreed to tell of his journeys.


    ¡°I am living for a long time in Qyris,¡± narrated he in a voice a bit unsteady from wine, ¡°I moved here eighteen years ago, forced to leave Hundred Isles by circumstances better left untold. I was not looking for a way to earn coin there too long. Soon I found a merchant in need of bodyguards. My skill with blade allowed me to acquire the position without trouble. So the merchant himself arrived from core kinani islands not long before. He planned to perform a trading journey to the city in the forest. He spent a moon buying goods which were said to be rare in the east, hired some men to manage his caravan and soon we were on our way.


    We studied maps. We had a guide of the forest dwellers to show us way. Still the woods managed to play a trick on us. Despite following a straight and obvious track we walked in circles for some time. We left marks, we corrected our course several time through the day, we threatened our guide so that he would have no funny ideas. Yet we could not find the way though. We were traversing the said major trading road, but met no one and it led us nowhere. Our expedition lasted for four moons, where it should have been barely one and a half. When we finally reached the city among the trees, our caravan was exhausted and starved. We never found a sound explanation why we did get lost. We brought back a great profit still.


    Next journey was relatively easy. We simply reached the target town in time, traded there, took all bought goods and headed back. On our way through the woods though we were attacked. Not by men, not by beasts, but by something in between. There was so many of them, more than there are rats in the port. They were ferocious, fighting with their claws, fangs, and whatever weapons they could get grip of. Many of our men died. But we got through, thanks to me and my comrades in arms. We fought off those inhumans and allowed the caravan to escape. Despite the loss of personnel, our profit was still great, we delivered obscene amounts of gold to Qyris.


    The third journey was also peaceful on the way there. That was the first time that we met the ruler of forest dwellers. Trust me, I saw a lot of weird and terrifying things in my life. Things that rose from the depth, things that walked in the south. But that one thing that ruled over these people. It was not human, it had the appearance of an animal, but it was not the animal either. Its presence was sickening, it gazed directly into souls of men. It never spoke to us, but it regarded me with but a single look which told me everything,¡± he paused, gulped the whole mug of wine and was silent for some moments.


    Ymdaton waited the man to continue. Ahamis looked at him, his face darkened by fear.


    ¡°I won¡¯t tell what it did convey to me. Let¡¯s say that it knew me as good as I know myself, if not better. But it was terrifying. We barely managed to bear the few moments in the presence of this so called guardian before it grew disinterested in us and left. After this the merchant did not perform any more journeys. He sold all the goods that were acquired in the east and hastily sailed back to Hundred Isles. I stayed there, for my own reasons, living off some dirty business in the city. But I will never, at any cost, travel to the forest again, for I do not want to meet that thing. It is something that a man should not meddle with.¡±


    Crewslayer glanced at the street and noticed that sun was setting already. He thanked the man, bought him some more wine and left, for there was a meeting that lord Azytenisar planned at the dusk. Ymdaton did not want to be late. On his way through Qyris he was thinking, just how much of Ahamis¡¯ tale was true. Perhaps all of it, but more likely the man was just not as tough as he wanted to look. Crewslayer was to find out in mere moons. He did not believe that there was something in the forest that could melt his courage completely.


    Streets were very similar to those of Isary. The city was built using the similar architecture, its blocks were riddled with canals in the same way. One notable exception was that buildings here were made of greyish beachstone, the only widely accessible material at the northern coast. He could easily spot houses of the wealthy there: their walls shone with light stone brought there from Hundred Isles.


    Before long he reached Uhal, an area of the city which was granted as a temporary shelter for their expedition by the local king. Ymdaton wondered, if three dozen of houses where they resided were built just for the city guests. He suspected that these were apartments of serfs and poor men who were driven out so that the royal dynasty of Qyris may do mighty house Abeneewy a favour.


    There was a square in the middle of Uhal which was already filled with warriors and other members of Azytenisar¡¯s expedition when Crewslayer reached it. He still could not guess how his liege was planning to enforce his rule upon the savages with such a scarce force. Here they stood: High Crew, the second crew, the third, the fourth, and the fifth - five crews of armed men in Abeneewy service, some thirty craftsmen of various specialities, some twenty members of the lord¡¯s court.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Mild cheers passed through the crowd, marking the liege¡¯s arrival. Azytenisar walked through the ranks, followed by the same servant whom Ymdaton first met at the Abeneewy enclave. Both wore outfits made of leather and fur. In fact, all the kinani changed their tunics and sandals for warm coats and boots by now. The air was much colder there, and constant piercing wind chilled men to their bones. Lord of the house stopped right in the middle of the square, while his subordinate formed a loose circle around him.


    Azytenisar waited a moment for the expedition to calm down. Then he spoke.


    ¡°Fruitful day under stars, my brave bunch. An hour ago the runner to the Obrejin returned with the answer from the people of that city. They refuse to provide us with beasts of burden in order for us to reach the Volnitza lake.¡±


    Grumblings rose in the crowd.


    ¡°What is their excuse for this?¡± someone cried out.


    Head of the house raised his hand, signaling his subordinate to be silent.


    ¡°As the runner says, their answer was that they refuse to steer us into our graves.¡±


    ¡°Big land trash trying to scare us off? I¡¯d steer stingy bastards into their graves when I reach them!¡± shouted out another voice from the expedition.


    Obeying to the subtle gesture of Azytenisar, Azandahy stepped forward from the ranks. He circled the gathered men with a heavy gaze and yelled.


    ¡°Whoever dares to interrupt our lord and master from now on will be sentenced to forty hits with a stick!¡±


    The expedition fell silent while Azytenisar continued.


    ¡°Neither will they supply us with ships fitting to traverse lake Volnitza. You know that we, kinani, are not particularly fond of working animals. There are not nearly enough in this city to carry our cargo through the marshes. Fortunately, king Azyrah of Qyris was most generous to provide us with vessels designed for crossing the lake. All of our equipment, provision and goods will be transported in these ships. The ships themselves will be dragged by the road using the strength of all able men.¡±


    Lord of Abeneewy paused, supposedly waiting for a burst of complaints. There was a solemn silence instead.


    ¡°What will happen to our seafaring vessels?¡± asked Abimnupal.


    ¡°Alas, we can not take them with us. Even if we dragged them instead, we would still be forced to abandon them at the opposite shore of the lake. I will leave our ships in custody of king Azyrah. He will be able to use them as he wishes as long as they stay undamaged. I, or a man empowered by my order will be able to reclaim vessels wherever it is needed. Such is our deal.


    You may think this to be a dirty work unfit for us. However, that is not a humiliation, but a display of determination. We will not let a petty stripe of soil to stop us, even if it takes to carry our ships on our shoulders.


    Preparations begin now. In two days we set out for the shores of Volnitza.¡±


    And so it was. On the second daybreak the expedition moved out of Qyris. Their caravan consisted of ten ships total, each strapped with ropes to be pulled by men. From dawn to noon warriors, craftsmen, and servants used all their strength and stamina to transfer boats forward by the stone road. Then there was a time for rest for the whole second part of the day. At the next sunrise the cycle repeated again. The were close to seeing the sixth noon now.


    That was not what Ymdaton expected from the journey. Dragging the flat bottomed boat by the old misty road with swamps to his both sides did not seem as the best way to achieve glory and wealth.


    ¡°What is it, Crewslayer? Do you find this work beneath you?¡± he heard a voice.


    The servant of Azytenisar who was already familiar to him walked to the right, supporting himself with a cane.


    ¡°Do you?¡±


    ¡°Do you remember the order? Every able man,¡± said the serf while combing his white beard.


    Ymdaton gave a dry laugh.


    ¡°It is not that. I just wanted to prove myself to the liege. It is hardly a place or an occasion to do so.¡±


    ¡°You have already proven your prowess enough at Vetluna. For now he needs other proofs. Of wisdom, of obedience, of patience,¡± the servant paused and then added.


    ¡°You are very alike in that regard. You and him. He also wants to prove himself, even as it is not required of him anymore.¡±


    The warrior followed the gaze of the serf and saw Azytenisar walking at the head of the caravan. Alongside him were drevlyani messengers, warriors, and two bodyguards from High Crew. On his back was a comically massive sack.


    ¡°Those are all his personal belongings. He wanted to drag a ship with his men initially. I talked him out of it. This is not the lord¡¯s duty. So he settled with carrying his baggage instead.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t men of Qyris just build a canal? The distance is not that long,¡± suddenly changed the subject Ymdaton.


    ¡°They tried. But the work was going painfully slow. Builders often got injured, then there were fatalities, then people began to disappear. Rumours spread that the land itself rebelled against the project, that something crawled out of the marshes to hunt workers. So the construction was abandoned. Ozeryani are coming to trade anyway, while the people of Qyris do not have a slightest desire to travel east.


    Now excuse me, I have to discuss some matters with our lord,¡± the servant sped up his pace so soon he left Ymdaton behind.


    ¡°Making important friends, I see,¡± said Abimnupal, who was dragging the vessel beside him.


    ¡°Of what importance, exactly? This is but a well paid serf.¡±


    ¡°Do not mistake Lulaton for a simple servant. He is the one who is heard by our master more than the rest of his court combined. Do you know his story? He once was a serf in charge of polishing Azytenisar¡¯s armour. When his younger brother was kidnapped by tyrsenoi, our lord fell into the depth of grief. It is said he tried to drown his sorrows in wine. One day, while being intoxicated quite a lot, he asked Lulaton¡¯s advice on this matter. That is where he got the idea of famous Rescue at Clevsi.¡±


    ¡°You mean the story of ten warriors of High Crew who hid in the barrels with gold which Azytenisar sent as ransom?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that one. Azandahy was amongst them. They freed lord¡¯s brother and fought their way out of tyrsenoi city. Our liege listens to Lulaton¡¯s words very carefully since then.¡±


    Ymdaton wanted to give some comment on this, but was distracted by a shout from behind.


    ¡°It glimmers ahead, stars be praised!¡±


    The whole expedition turned their heads as one. Crewslayer did so as well and, indeed, there could be seen some shining ahead, even through the mists. There were waves, he could tell, for there was no sight more familiar to a seaman.


    ¡°Not so long before we can use these ships properly,¡± said he and pressed on.

 Chapter IV: A Milestone

    Odwitchni forest was a tranquil and beautiful place. Hundred-year-old trees sprung up and sideways, casting soft shadows over lush bushes and wild grass. Together they formed a solid mass of greenness which seemed impassable from the outside. It was an erroneous impression. Countless beasts lurked in the woods. However, no birdsong, rustle, breath, or roar could be heard. Unforgiving nature of Odwitchni taught whatever creatures lived there to keep quiet, unless they wanted to summon their undoing.


    There was a single source of disturbance for the last moon. A procession of outlanders was passing by the forest road. It was slow, for it had no beasts of burden to carry baggage. Instead, foreigners carried sacks on their backs and dragged man-powered carts with two wheels. They chatted, sung and rattled their weapons idly, bringing the attention of the woods upon them.


    Dwellers in Big Land promised to lead them by the well-known passage in the forest, reaching their city in less than a moon. It was already twenty sixth day of the journey and their destination did not look any closer.


    Two drevlyani messengers were trudging to the left of Crewslayer. Their exhaustion was not solely born from a trek, but also from the burden of expectations. He was not intending to make their moods any lighter.


    ¡°Hey you, the one who speaks in our language. Tell me, why did not your people put milestones on the road, so we could at least know how much of a journey lies ahead?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Such things are impossible in Odwitchni. The forest quickly devours marks left by men. We can only trust our sight and memory,¡± drevlyani translator answered with a guilty expression.


    ¡°I guess neither has taken us far enough.¡±


    ¡°Calm down, Crewslayer. You may accidentally kill Blagoslav, while spewing that much poison,¡± laughed Lulaton, who also happened to be walking close by.


    ¡°I may as well kill him in a traditional way, if this pointless trip continues. I am pretty convinced that we are walking in circles. Are you, perhaps, luring us into a trap? Why is that your warriors are leading the way now instead of you. Maybe it is to strike us from the rear and front simultaneously when an ambush happens?¡±


    ¡°I implore you, use common sense. What is a point of guiding you across half of the world just to set a trap?¡± Blagoslav was visibly afraid, his companion also looked worried, not understanding the sudden increase of tension.


    ¡°Perhaps, a convoluted plan of enemies of our lord to remove him as a power on Isary,¡± answered Lulaton with a pensive face.


    ¡°Honoured island man, I have a wife and two daughters waiting for me in Khladnetz. Do you think I would risk leaving them without a husband and a father just to dash you against the reef?¡± retorted the translator.


    Ymdaton smirked at the used figure of speech.


    ¡°I wonder, how come you know our language so well. That saying you have chosen, for example. Not even tyrsenoi would say that, because they do not encounter coral reefs in their sea travels as often as we do.¡±


    ¡°As I have already said, I have a family in Khladnetz. I was not born there, however. My birthplace is Stodmuj, an ozeryani city at the north shore of Volnitza. I have spent first twenty five years of my life in that town. There I served in the retinue of a wealthy merchant. We traded with people of Moriegrad, which is named by you Qyris. I have had a lot of dealings with ostrovyani and eventually learned your language very well. Needless to say, that I have earned a generous salary with my knowledge.


    But once when my master visited Khladnetz, I¡¯ve met there a girl who was more precious than all the riches from over the sea. She did not want to leave her home, so instead I abandoned my service and moved into her city. That is how I ended up living among drevlyani.


    Should I add that inviting your kin was partially my suggestion? I know of your prowess first-hand. I believe that lord Azytenisar of all people has the power to save us. I do not want my family to witness their home being consumed by Odwitchni,¡± Blagoslav was talking with a passion, probably being thankful for the change of subject. Crewslayer ceased to follow the dialogue. He turned his head to the right and saw Abimnupal beckoning him from the edge of the road.


    Ymdaton passed through the caravan and approached his comrade. He was carving something into the trunk of a closest tree with traditional triangle-shaped knife.


    ¡°Leaving your name?¡± grinned Crewslayer.


    ¡°Nothing so grounded. I heard your talk and I think you might be right about us walking in circles. I also think that you might be not right about land dwellers luring us into trap. Perhaps, it is something from the forest that wants us to never come out.¡±


    The shape that Ymdaton¡¯s friend was carving consisted of three circles, connected with lines.


    ¡°In case we are being misled by the forces of the woods, any ordinary mark would be erased by them. But here is no ordinary mark. I carved an image of Ulamsilis, who keep eternal vigil over Sea Betwixt. Upon seeing it, any evil spirits will be reminded of dreaded celestial guardians. They will not dare to touch the sign. Watch for this tree. If you see it again, then we have indeed got lost.¡±


    Sun was was descending down the sky. After the whole day of travel it was almost the time to call halt. Ymdaton felt exhausted from another day spent in pointless walking. He barely paid attention to his surroundings, until a familiar shape came before his eyes. Three circles forming a triangle carved in a tree bark. An oak with such mark suddenly appeared just eight steps ahead of him. The warrior recognized the shape of its branches and roots. It was the same exact tree that Abimnupal branded in the morning.


    Crewslayer unsheeted his axe and headed for land dwelling translator. Blagoslav understood what was happening only when the warrior had already seized him by the lapels with one hand, while raising his weapon with another. Drevlyani man looked at him with horror in eyes. Ymdaton made a swing and struck. Most of those around who watched the events unfold blinked, thus missing the result.


    Blagoslav was down on the ground, frightened yet unharmed, Crewslayer stood close, his back turned to the translator, at his feet lied the one that he truly cut. The victim was built as a ten years old child: barely three cubits tall, thin torso, arms, and legs. It wore no clothes, however, its body was completely covered with dark fur, hiding any features. Even its face was obscured.


    Men were about to begin wondering how it did pass among them unnoticed. Next moment hundreds of similar creatures swarmed out of the forest, attacking the expedition.


    A lumberjack¡¯s axe, a carpenter¡¯s hammer, a sickle, a frying pan, a cook¡¯s knife, a rolling pin - those were weapons that Ymdaton parried and blocked in the first minutes of combat. Some hairy midgets used metal dishes as shields. They were dying in droves by his blade, proving little challenge. Yet even more crawled over corpses of their fallen kin.


    ¡°That is ridiculous, insulting! Bring actual weapons at least!¡± laughed Ymdaton. As if answering his plea, one of creatures came at him with bloodied kinani axe. It still did not help.


    ¡°Do not be dismissive of them! These are borovici, imps of the forest who live to undo the works of good men. Their arms are such because they are taken from slain travellers. Their numbers are enough to overwhelm even mightiest warriors!¡± cried out Blagoslav from somewhere behind crewmen backs.


    True, these freaks were beyond count, yet kinani already regrouped into battle formations and began pushing them back into the forest. Ymdaton seen several warriors being dragged down under the weight of imps horde, yet crews were winning the skirmish.


    A severed head still clad in a helmet flew over Crewslayer. He traced its trajectory back, wondering, what on the battlefield had enough power to hurl it that far. His answer was in the ranks of Uribu crew. A towering figure almost five cubits tall was fighting its way through kinani. Experienced warriors of the squad encircled the enemy, outnumbered him, yet were still outmatched.


    Limbs were cut off, men were thrown away by hits of immense power. The unknown combatant was clad in the armour of drevlyani design, rusty, dirty, and covered by moss. At first Ymdaton thought that bodyguards of the embassy betrayed them, but four warriors still held the defense at the front of caravan. It did not matter. What mattered is that he finally found a thrilling challenge.


    As soon as the attack has started, High Crew regrouped, encircling their liege in a protective formation. There they stood, no amount of enemies able to break their ranks. Ymdaton knew that they would manage just fine without him. So he left his comrades and headed for the towering foe.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Crewslayer yelled, drawing the attention of the giant. The enemy noticed him and, after sending his last opponent rolling with a mighty shield shove, approached Ymdaton. The two circled each other before engaging in the exchange of blows. The foe was skilled, he did not show any openings initially. What was even more important, he was terrifyingly strong. A single shield block taught Ymdaton that he should limit himself to dodging and parrying, unless he wants his bones to be shattered.


    Eventually, Crewslayer found his opportunity. After a particularly wide swing, which he dodged, the enemy left himself open. Kinani warrior made a cut at the unprotected area above knee guard but below chain skirt, hoping to crack a thigh bone.


    Nothing happened. His opponent did not loose footing, blood did not spray, sound of tissue being severed could not be heard. The confusion almost costed Ymdaton his life, as he barely dodged a retaliating slash. He landed a clean cut, he was sure of it. Why did it not work? As he parried next blow at the level of his eyes, he saw the answer. The edge of his axe did not shine even slightly. The weapon was completely dull. It was impossible, he sharpened it personally just the last evening.


    Ponderings could be left for the later. After another series of feints, he caught the opponent with an axe butt to the temple. With horror Ymdaton watched as the blade of his weapon fell off just before the impact, taking away most of the momentum. Only a fragment was left on the handle and it was marked heavily with rust. Crewslayer instantly retreated, avoiding the counterattack and establishing a few steps distance between him and the opponent.


    His hit was not entirely without success, it knocked off enemy¡¯s helmet. What was previously hidden behind the aventail, now could be seen clearly. It was no human visage. What looked at Ymdaton was resembling a flayed skull, except instead of sinew it was covered in creeping vines.


    The giant approached him. Crewslayer turned and ran, trying to think of some new tactic, while the foe chased him. His enemy was, perhaps, protected from mortal weapon by an enchantment. Some extraordinary solution was necessary, but what exactly? He heard the thing stomping after him, cutting and crushing whoever dared to bar its path. A loud clang of metal made him turn his head.


    To Ymdaton¡¯s surprise, the creature was lying on the ground, upon it was Abimnupal who struck the enemy repeatedly not with his weapon, but with his bare fists. The giant struggled to get the warrior off him, unable to slash with his sword at such close distance. Finally, it bent its leg and delivered a kick to Abimnupal¡¯s stomach with such power, that the crewman flew several steps away. There he fell and did not stand up.


    The creature raised itself, on its forehead a massive bruise leaking with sap could be seen. Ymdaton stood still, intending to face the foe once more. He silently thanked Abimnupal for his combat intuition. The monster noticed him and approached. Crewslayer dropped his shield and now useless axe. The opponent hesitated for a moment, but then charged, making a wide swing with his blade. Ymdaton waited until the last moment, then he ducked and caught the enemy by the wrist of his sword arm.


    The warrior pulled it forward, guiding enemy¡¯s immense momentum. The giant flew over him. Crewslayer did not let go of the wrist. He put his thigh under foe¡¯s elbow. As it fell, his whole weight was focused on it. The elbow cracked with a sickening sound, bending the wrong way. Creature lost its grasp on the sword. Ymdaton felt the moment of triumph, but was instantly hit in the shoulder with an edge of the shield. He tumbled few steps backwards.


    Both combatants stood up simultaneously. Right hand of the monster was limp, it dropped its shield and picked up the sword with the other one. Without hesitation, the enemy attacked again. Ymdaton was dodging and baiting it away, until he stood with his back close to the tree. Another wide swing came, which he avoided, allowing foe¡¯s sword to hit the trunk. There it was struck. The giant pulled without success. When it tried to pull again with more force, Crewslayer was already behind its back.


    As blade came out, the thing swayed backwards. The very same moment, the warrior grasped it around the waist and lifted with all his strength. The creature was heavy, but the inertia helped Ymdaton and he managed to toss it over himself. It landed right on its skull, the momentum crashing enemy¡¯s neck.


    Still it tried to get up, even with the head hanging to the side. Crewslayer did not give it a moment to regain orientation. With a huge effort, he lifted the enemy on his shoulders, then immediately dropping it on the massive root of the closest tree. The giant got hit right across the back, its spine shattered.


    Still it tried to get up. It was unsuccessful, so the monster simply dragged itself in Ymdaton¡¯s direction. The warrior looked around himself. He grabbed a shield of some fallen warrior from the grass and assaulted the creature, pulverizing its cranium and chest with mighty blows of its edge. It fell motionless, finally.


    Ymdaton stood up and raised his fist in triumph. Upon seeing his victory, hairy imps turned their backs and ran back into the forest. In less than few moments the battle was over. All crews cheered, some yelled his name or moniker. All that noise distracted him from the fact that the monster at his feet move again.


    The thing grabbed him by the leg and dragged the warrior to the ground. Crewslayer kicked it in the head and rolled away, quickly jumping back to his feet. He was about to attack the foe again, when a hand at his shoulder stopped him. Ymdaton turned his head to see a warrior in richly adorned armour.


    ¡°Allow me,¡± said the man and hurled a sealed clay pot at it. When the vessel shattered upon enemy¡¯s body, it was suddenly engulfed in a burst of flames. The burning monster writhed in pain for some moments and finally stopped moving.


    The unknown warrior observed it, his green eyes displaying obvious glee, while his heavily scarred face remained unmoving.


    ¡°Thank you, good man,¡± muttered Ymdaton.


    ¡°That is nothing difficult. I am Sumiaton,¡± answered the crewman.


    Crewslayer nodded and rushed to Abimnupal¡¯s prone body. His comrade lied unmoving where he fell. He grabbed the warrior tightly by the shoulders and shook him.


    ¡°I think it has knocked me unconscious, don¡¯t tell anybody,¡± rasped Abimnupal and opened his eyes.


    ¡°Damn fool, I was coming up with words to say at your funeral already!¡±


    The wounded man laughed but then his face clenched up.


    ¡°I also think it may have broken few of my ribs.¡±


    Ymdaton helped the warrior to his feet. All around them crewmen were treating their wounds and celebrating victory. Warriors discussed the skirmish, chuckles could be heard here and there. Through this ambience Crewslayer did not notice a single ceaseless stream of laughter at first. But soon it begun annoying him, so Ymdaton turned around, searching for the source of sound. No one cackled around him in that manner. No one did so as far as the eye could see. He noticed some men casting uneasy looks around, same way as he did. Suddenly he heard a voice just behind his back.


    ¡°Heed me, foolish sea runners. You may have broken my body, yet I am eternal in spirit. As long as grooves grow, I will exist. You have made a mistake when you angered me, petty things. These woods shall be your grave, no path on the earth shall dare to guide you out. Thus I curse you!¡± proclaimed it in clean kinani language.


    Ymdaton spun with his weapon in hands, seeking the authors of threats. He found none. Warriors around him were doing the same, it seems everyone heard the words.


    ¡°Look, the way disappeared,¡± someone cried out.


    Crewslayer scanned the wood¡¯s edge and noticed that all the traces of the road that led them were now indeed gone. The expedition stood in the middle of a glade encircled with thick forest.


    Panic rolled through the crowd. People began murmuring in shock and fear.


    ¡°Calm!¡± a mighty shout devoid of worry echoed through the place. It originated from the midst of the expedition, from lord Azytenisar, who has risen his sword high, beckoning his men to gather.


    ¡°I will not allow such pitiful displays of terror from my brave subordinates. Let us deal with this in a wise manner. I request an explanation from our drevlyani friends.¡±


    Blagoslav and the second messenger stepped forth.


    ¡°In all honesty, I don¡¯t have a slightest idea what kind of creature you just have defeated. Neither do I know what kind of a curse has befallen us,¡± said the translator, barely holding back panic.


    The other man spoke something in his native language. Blagoslav listened carefully and then told others.


    ¡°Dalnovyd thinks that the monster is called Ljad. He is the devil to borovici imps, the powerful and malign spirit of the forest. It is said that weapons crafted by men can not wound him. Was it not the case here? When you crashed his material form, he cursed us out of spite, commanding the forest to bar all paths.¡±


    ¡°Please, convey my thanks to Dalnovyd for his insight. This curse will not affect us, for we do not need a guidance of earthly passages. We are guided by those in the sky. Now then, to the pressing matters. The map, please,¡± Lulaton gave his master the map of Owritchni. ¡°Show me on the map the part of the road on with we were situated before the attack.¡±


    The translator came closer and pointed with a finger.


    ¡°Good, now I need someone to climb a tree and seek the answer of the stars.¡±


    ¡°Allow me,¡± shouted Ymdaton before anyone else could answer, ¡°I am the one who humbled that thing, after all.¡±


    ¡°Fine. Find me a direction two thirds between north and east,¡± agreed Azytenisar.


    Crewslayer found a fitting tree with a multitude of trusty branches. He climbed it until reaching the top. From there he observed evening sky. Luckily, there were few clouds and stars shone unobscured. There were Ulamsilis, the Eternal Three, standing unmoving in the south, there was Nisirask, the guarding of the West Shore, slowly making his patrol, Yrah, moon was moving along his path almost full, many others were also familiar to him. From his childhood Ymdaton was taught to recognize many dozens of stars, for navigation at sea was based on them first and foremost. When he got down and returned to his liege, Crewslayer simply pointed his hand in the direction calculated by him. Azytenisar nodded and carved a line in the soil with his sword, which displayed it.


    ¡°We will rest this night and the following day. The next evening we move out. We will travel in the dark, when the stars can lead us. We will pass directly through forest without turning to either side. Every man should always keep at least three others in his sight at all times, unless he desires to be swallowed by the woods. Whatever stands in our way shall be brought down, plant or a moving thing, no matter. That is all for now.¡±


    And so they did. The journey was grueling. It was not easy for a party of such size to pass through the wild forest. Sometimes the way through the greenness was simply cut. Sometimes a man would climb the tree and find out that the sky is rotated completely, meaning that they were moving in the opposite direction somehow. Sometimes they halted during cloudy nights, when navigation was impossible. Sometimes men were lost to the Odwitchni despite all cautions. Yet onwards they came.


    Finally, in half the moon since the battle on the forest road, a warrior who was ordered to check the sky reported that an end to the woods could be seen not so far ahead. According to the maps, Khladnetz stood on the clear land lined with forest. The view matched the description perfectly. After overcoming so many obstacles, travelers reached their destination.

 Interlude I: No Place for a Boy

    ¡°But dad, I really want to see it for myself!¡± the boy insisted.


    ¡°I told you, that is no place for children. You are only six years old, Ymdaton. Grow up a little more to visit such events,¡± Hamysbir was unmoving in the face of son¡¯s pleas.


    ¡°It will be years till I can see the battle, let me at least see the celebration of victory. All warriors of your crew will be there, telling stories of courage and glory! I want to hear them too! When was the last time that you told me about your journeys!¡± Ymdaton looked as if he was about to burst into tears, yet he did not allow himself to do so out of sheer stubbornness.


    His father sighed and walked away. The child thought that all his efforts were in vain. To his surprise, Hamysbir returned after some moments with an axe in one hand and sharpening stone in other.


    ¡°Well then, nothing in this life comes without struggle. There are still three days before the celebration. Sharpen this weapon for me and I will take you to the feast,¡± the man handed the boy both tools.


    Ymdaton was visibly relieved. With a ringing laugh he ran to the inner courtyard of his house. On the way he also fetched a piece of linen cloth which would be needed for his labours. There the boy sat on the bench, spread the rag before him, put the stone upon it and, after measuring the right angle, began sharpening the axe.


    To think of it, he never saw his father take this particular weapon away from home. Soon he understood why. The metal was unyielding. He worked on it for a full hour without even slightly forming the edge. Ymdaton did not give up. He continued labouring until the late evening, missing the dinner. He went to sleep completely exhausted with an unbreakable intent to continue tomorrow. The next day his arms ached as if they were on fire. Still, he continued his task.


    Monotonous movements fatigued both physically and emotionally. Few times he lost attention and the axe slipped in his hands, slashing at fingers. The boy bandaged wounds and returned to work. By the second evening the blade started to sharpen, yet not fast enough. He had less than a day to finish his job. Next morning the child discovered that he got the angle of the edge a bit wrong. The time until noon was spent correcting it. Two hours before the celebration the axe was not exactly dull, yet far from being truly sharp. But the boy had no more time and decided to present his work as it was.


    Ymdaton found his father in his personal chambers, already dressed for the event. The son offered the weapon in wearily trembling hands. Hamysbir obviously noticed the tremors and bandages. He took the blade, studying it. The boy prepared to be turned down.


    ¡°You have shown more determination than I could have imagined. I allow you to accompany me, my son,¡± to his great surprise, heard the boy. He smiled, his heart filling with joy.


    The feast was held in the wealthy house in the central part of Isary.


    ¡°This is the house of my commander,¡± told Hamysbir to his son when they approached it. The building was two storeys high, its walls were unadorned. However, in front of the facade were planted trees of a kind which Ymdaton never saw before. Instead of leaves they had green needles and the smell that they emanated was pleasing, tranquilizing.


    A serf led them from the entrance into the courtyard. There, in the open air, tables were set, at which many warriors already sat, talking, laughing, drinking wine and eating. At the inner walls of the house dozens of shields hung.


    The boy examined emblems drawn upon shields. Just recently he had studied Ahyt¡¯s Journey with his mentor, so images of animals told clear stories to him. There was a swordfish, the born warrior, carrying its weapon from its birth to its death; there was a seahorse, steadfast in its beliefs, holding with its tail so it would never retreat; there was an eel, the trickster; there was a turtle, the wise, never travelling without its armour, thus living the longest life; there was a whale, the mightiest, it said that it could battle giants of the depths; here was a shark, the unrelenting, never stopping before any challenge, it was the shield of his father that it was drawn upon. There were also constellations: Eternal Three, protecting from evil forces, Celestial Caravan, blessing those who travel far, and others. Ymdaton saw some symbols that he did not understood: a tower, a cloud, a tree floating in the water. He could have asked the father about these, but the boy did not want to disturb him with idle questions.


    Hamysbir approached the table and sat among the warriors. A man sitting close by greeted him.


    ¡°What do I see? Did you bring here your child so he can observe us getting wasted?¡± laughed the crewman.


    ¡°We can not live without this same way we can not live without battle, am I not right. Since I can not yet show him battle, let him see the feast,¡± answered Hamysbir.


    Warriors continued to drink and discuss battles of the past. Musicians were brought in to provide a pleasing ambience.


    ¡°Only half of us were present Uryr, why some of you don¡¯t tell the others what happened here?¡± asked someone at the opposite side of the table.


    Tall warrior to the left of Ymdaton rose from his seat with goblet in hands.


    ¡°Well, where do I begin,¡± said he, after emptying it, ¡°As you may know, Uryr is our colony at the southern shores of big land. It was founded by house Abeneewy two hundred years ago. Few moons ago a messenger arrived from there, pleading for armed reinforcements. Apparently, Uryr was in the war of some kind.¡±


    ¡°To the interesting part!¡± shouted someone from the crowd.


    ¡°Be patient. So, when we arrived at Uryr, it borne obvious signs of battle. Damaged walls, funeral processions, lots of armed men in the streets, all of this. They were much happy to see us. Enemies almost got better of them the last time, they said. They told us that for the last moon and a half a nearby river brings squads of fierce attackers who assault city constantly.


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    We thought them to be some local tribes jealous of kinani prosperity. You know, this scum annoys our kin constantly all around Sea Betwixt. The next attack proved us wrong. Indeed, soon after our arrival, next assault came. Out of the river came troops. Not by boats, not by rafts, they simply walked out of it. These soldiers were mighty and terrible to behold. Each from five cubits tall to twice the man¡¯s height. Clad in mail from head to toes. Their armour in such a way that it was hard to discern it from their flesh. They carried weapons of mutilation in their hands: wave-bladed swords and spiked maces. Those arms looked as if they were created specially to produce most gruesome wounds.


    Their troops came with siege ladders and immediately attempted to climb the walls. Due to their unusual armour, bows were largely useless against them. Only a lucky thrown stone could bring one down. They reached the top of the fortifications pretty fast. The brutal melee commenced. Enemies proved to be resistant to most blades also. Only with a mighty hit of the mace a man could hope to slay one of them. Monsters, on the other hand, killed a lot of our kin. Their brute strength was such that they could tear a warrior even with their bare hands.


    Still, we fought valiantly and did not allow them any further. Stalemate was achieved. To our surprise, after few hours of skirmish, our enemies simply retreated. They were not losing, they just turned back and left.


    After few days, the same thing happened. Armoured giants attacked ferociously for some hours before leaving. We observed where they did go. Troops returned to the river and submerged as one.


    They can not live without water for long - someone proposed the idea. It was plausible. We held a was council in order to decide, how we could use this weakness of the enemy. It was proposed to build a dam so the river changes its course and creatures would not dare to travel as far from it as to the city.


    So it was done. We repelled another attack and when foes retreated, began blocking river¡¯s path where it was narrow. Monsters noticed us soon enough and came out of the water, attacking builders. We were ready, however. We retreated for the closest hill. When monsters tried to climb it, we pushed down massive stones, which were prepared earlier. Rocks rolled down the slopes, crushing unlucky creatures. Those who survived were finished by us in close quarters.


    We managed to finish the dam not before long. The river moved away from the city, so the distance was too long for monsters to travel.


    We stayed in Uryr for two more weeks, so we could be sure, that giants would not return. Then we sailed home.¡±


    Ymdaton¡¯s imagination painted colorful scenes of battles against monstrous creatures. He pictured his father at the river bank, standing atop the pile of giant armored corpses. The boy smiled. Warriors raised their goblets, cheering and laughing.


    ¡°To salvation of Uryr!¡± yelled someone and they drank.


    ¡°Those were obviously children of Umrah,¡± said another warrior.


    ¡°Now can Mahaton tell us the story for which he is getting promoted into High Crew?¡± said another warrior.


    A man at the head of the table rose.


    ¡°Not that much of a tale, it was over pretty quick. Do not be disappointed. You see, when we sailed back to Isary, we thought that we were done with monsters of the river.


    When my ship swayed to the side, I thought, that it was simply a strong wave. I was wrong. A creature of a kind that we fought earlier climbed from the sea on board. It was alone. Standing ten cubits tall, it was the largest of giants we saw that far. It attacked instantly. How did it swim that far into the sea? How did it manage to catch up with the ship? It did not matter because the thing already bstarted killing my men. I charged it also, striking it with a mace. The creature was not visibly harmed.


    Eventually, only I and Hamysbir were left standing. Others were either dead or knocked down. I could not slay the beast. Its armor was simply impenetrable, even to blunt weapons. Then the idea came to my head. While I was distracting the creature, dodging its blows and irritating it with counterattacks, I ordered Hamysbir to tie an anchor¡¯s rope around giant¡¯s leg. He did so without the foe noticing him. Then, at my command, he dropped the anchor into the sea. It submerged, dragging monster into the depth. The thing tried to hold onto ship, but the weight was too much even for it. Soon it vanished into the waves. I cut the rope, leaving the anchor to drown my enemy.


    And so I slain the armored giant with the help of Hamysbir.¡±


    ¡°I heard that it was father who fought the creature while the commander was tying it to the anchor,¡± said Ymdaton without thinking too long. He was surprised, how loud his words sounded. A lot of warriors heard it and turned their heads. Some laughed, some examined him with curiosity in their eyes. A strong hit upside the head caught the boy unaware. He looked at Hamysbir.


    ¡°Why?¡± sobbed he, tears of pain rolling down his cheeks. The father, who was looking very fierce, grabbed his son by the hand and dragged him out of the house, to the street.


    ¡°Where did you hear that story?¡± asked he angrily.


    ¡°Your comrade, Bareksum told me this, when he was visiting our house. You never tell me of your battles, so I asked him,¡± mumbled the boy.


    ¡°Never talk about it again. These are lies. My commander fought the beast while I was only helping. The feast is over for you, young man¡± said the father in stern voice and turned his back to his son, heading back into the building.


    Ymdaton looked at the house with strange trees for some time. Suddenly, one of the best evenings of his life turned into one of the worst. With a heavy heart he trudged back home.

 Chapter V: To Make an Impression II

    When the expedition finally left the forest, the change of the surroundings was dazing. Odwitchni was the nature untouched by man¡¯s hand, wild and unbending. Here before their eyes lied the nature tamed. Fields of wheat stretched as far as the eye could see. Among them were occasional pastures where cattle was grazing. Log houses stood here and there. Tiny silhouettes of men were visible in the distance, all occupied with various kinds of rural works.


    Far ahead, in the middle of all this, could be seen a city behind massive wooden walls. This enclave of civilization was spread upon the glade, the forest was visibly encircling it to the right and to the left. Trees at the opposite edge were so far away, that the horizon swallowed them out of view. Kinani expedition searched for a road that will lead them to the city, not wanting to traverse through farming grounds. They found a dirt track half a league to the west.


    The procession passed several wooden posts with similar inscriptions upon them.


    ¡°What are these saying?¡± heard Ymdaton a question from Lulaton, who was walking few steps ahead.


    ¡°Lake Road,¡± answered Blagoslav.


    Crewslayer smiled. It was so close, yet forces of the forest hid it so well from them. He noticed that many locals were also heading for the town, on foot or riding upon wooden carts. However, everyone who noticed approaching warriors, turned to the sides and quickly headed into the fields, apparently to avoid meeting them. Further away he saw farmers hiding in their houses, closing doors and shutters.


    ¡°They do not look happy about our arrival,¡± said he.


    ¡°We did not arrive by the human road. They fear creatures that can casually walk out of forest. You should understand them, considering what we faced back there,¡± told him Abimnupal, who was marching nearby.


    They reached the city gates in a hour and a half. Fortifications were built entirely out of logs, Ymdaton could not see a single stone. They were still impressive though, over twenty cubits high, with even taller towers. The portal was shut, there was no sign of men around, no one could be seen manning the walls either. There was pressure in the air, however, which told Ymdaton that defenders of the city were ready to repel the attack, even if they did not show themselves.


    Their drevlyani guides, two civilians and four warriors, came forward and stood before the entrance. The messenger who did not speak kinani, yelled something. Everyone waited for a response. The wind blew, wheat at the fields rustled, armour clanked as men idly shifted postures. Nothing else happened.


    After a long wait, Crewslayer heard galloping hooves. To the east, around the curve of the wall, appeared a group of mounted warriors. In few moments they reached kinani ranks and halted between them and the gates. Newcomers were clad in armour of similar design to that of their guides. There was a dozen of them total. Their mounts were of a kind that Crewslayer did not see before. Those were fluffy quadrupedal beasts with long necks which they kept straight upwards, small heads with prolonged snouts, short curved tails, ears bent forward, and eyes that gave them a facial expression between happiness and curiosity.


    The apparent leader of the group said something to the guides loudly. He spoke in drevlyani language, so Ymdaton did not understood words, yet the tone was obviously stern and unfriendly. The messenger answered something with an upbeat intonation. The commander eyed kinani men with doubtful expression. He made a gesture with his hand and another one of his party rode forward.


    ¡°Do not be alarmed, do not do anything which could imply hostility. Militia want to test your good intentions,¡± told Blagoslav.


    Crewmen murmured in annoyance. The mounted warrior stopped right before Azytenisar. Seeing him this close, Crewslayer noticed a housecat sitting in the saddle in front of the warrior. It was wholly black except for white spots at its nose, chest and tips of its paws. Militiaman grabbed the animal under its forepaws and reached forward. The feline hanging in man¡¯s hand regarded lord of Abeneewy with a lazy look of its yellowish green eyes. Master of the house reached with his hand. The cat hit his fingers with its pad several times in a playful manner.


    Azytenisar looked up in warrior¡¯s eyes and smiled. Drevlyani rider put the cat back into the saddle and returned to his squad. Militia discussed something among them and then turned to the gates. Their leader cupped his hands around his mouth and let out a weird shout, something resembling a bird squeak. After few minutes the gates opened.


    Local warriors entered the city, the expedition followed them. Militia guided them along the main unpaved street. Buildings there were made similarly out of logs. Those were houses not very different to the country ones behind the walls. But as the procession moved closer to the central parts, buildings became more diverse and massive. There were two and three storied residences, multiple blocks built wall-to wall or connected with passageways, fences hiding yards from unwanted eyes, facades adorned with painting or carved figures.


    Most common among decorations were floral motifs and images of cats. The later were present in wide variety: from domestic mousers to lynxes, tigers, and some fantastic creatures obviously feline in nature. Citizens lined the streets, gazing at them, cheering, and pointing fingers.


    Finally, travelers emerged at the huge square. There was a massive house almost fifteen cubits high with a pyramid-like roof on one side of it and the similar one on the other side. The second building was noticeable: it lacked the front wall entirely. Inside it was but an empty cube except for layer of hay that covered the floor. It was decorated more lavishly than any other house that Ymdaton have seen yet.


    ¡°What is that?¡± asked Abimnupal.


    ¡°Looks like some kind of an altar to me,¡± said Ymdaton.


    His attention was drawn to even bigger crowd was waiting for them here. Group of men left the crowd and moved forward. Those were obviously the wealthiest, Crewslayer could guess by their clothes. Militia and guides bowed to them simultaneously. One of locals, an old man who wrapped himself in a fur coat as if he was standing in a piercing wind, spoke in his language.


    Both messenger and leader of outriders answered in order. The elder turned to the crowd, proclaiming something in portentous manner and a surprisingly loud voice. The gathering exploded with cheers. Blagoslav approached the kinani expedition and made an announcement.


    ¡°Council and population of Khladnetz are most happy to welcome you. We understand, that you are tired of the journey. Capable families will provide lodging for every kinani man. Rest, replenish your powers. In three days there will be a meeting to crown our lord Azytenisar and discuss matters of the future.¡±


    Ymdaton was expecting some barbaric customs from the land dwellers, yet his new lodging was a pretty civilized one, and the man of the house was hospitable. He, Abimnupal, and Hasdruhy were sheltered by some wealthy family, perhaps as a privilege of being Azytenisar¡¯s most valuable warriors. The house consisted of four connected buildings, all two storeys high. It was clean and cozy inside: walls covered with polished wooden panels, floors layered with carpets. The house was filled with servants who were so disciplined that they shown little to no interest in foreign guest.


    They were offered to use a bathhouse, washing away the dust of the journey. They were invited to eat at the same table as the master of the house and his family. They were given a personal bedroom for each man. Warriors took turns sleeping, so that one of them was always guarding the doors. That was, perhaps, an insulting display of distrust, yet to lower their guard in the alien place, even after such warm greeting, was against their nature.


    Three days later crewmen arrived at the place of meeting, the immense house at the central square. Despite its height, the building did not have separate storeys. It was simply a large hall under the roof, three layers of small windows riddled the walls, providing decent illumination. Inside were already gathered council of Khladnetz, some militiamen, Blagoslav, Azytenisar with his court, and High Crew. Ymdaton and his comrades joined the ranks of fellow warriors.


    ¡°Already blending with population. Who could have known that there were skilled diplomats among us,¡± laughed Azandahy, who happened to stand nearby.


    Indeed, the generous host also provided the three of them with fresh clothes to replace theirs that were dirty and damaged in journey. Now they were a comic display: traditional drevlyani pants and long-sleeved shirts of bright colours, fur-lined leather boots with pointy toes, and kinani armour upon all of this. Crewslayer did not expect himself to appreciate the pigeon-faced¡¯s joke, yet he did genuinely chuckle.


    There was a throne in the middle of the hall, set at the risen platform. There lord of Abeneewy sat. Old man in a fur coat whom Ymdaton remembered from the day of arrival walked to stand before it. He proclaimed something in a sing-song voice. Blagoslav, who stood at the side of kinani lord was about to open his mouth and translate, when Azytenisar answered himself. He spoke in drevlyani language without a single break. Dead silence fell, signaling the amazement of the crowd.


    ¡°Please translate our conversation from now on, so my men can understand us,¡± addressed he the translator, after finishing his speech.


    ¡°Head of the council of Khladnetz, elder Tridum said that we did not have knez ruling over us for centuries. We do not remember any particular ceremonies which are ought to be performed when one is crowned. So he just asked lord Azytenisar to swear that he would steer people of Khladnetz rightfully upon honour of him and his ancestor. Our master did so and added, that this is fine, because we can spend less time on needless formalities, and proceed to discussion of pressing matters,¡± announced Blagoslav after clearing his throat.


    ¡°But how is it possible. How does he know their language after mere three days,¡± whispered Ymdaton.


    ¡°You know little of our master. Three days? Our whole journey was much longer than that and he did not spend any time in vain,¡± gave a hushed answer Azandahy.


    Azytenisar continued speaking, while Blagoslav was interpreting.


    ¡°I would like to hear a report about recent military engagements here from however is competent in the matter.¡±


    A tall man with grizzled face and silvery short-cut hair stepped forth. He was wearing typical drevlyani armour which was decorated with golden trinkets here and there.


    ¡°My name is Likhobor, I am the elected commander of Khladnetz militia. Since the disappearance of our guardian we fended off eight attacks of the forest. In total we lost a quarter of militia force while fighting the forces of the woods. We also had three confrontations with neighbouring cities: Velmytop, Belosten and Ovrajin. One was lost due to our surrender, two others were decided by our defeat in a single combat.¡±


    ¡°May I?¡± a man who helped Ymdaton at the forest road battle, Sumiaton, left the crowd. Lord of Abeneewy nodded.


    ¡°Why did not you build walls?¡± addressed he drevlyani commander.


    ¡°Excuse me? Our city is circled with mighty fortifications which you should have clearly seen,¡± answered confused warrior. The dialogue proceeded with a slight delay, because both men waited, until Blagoslav translated the next line.


    ¡°No, not those,¡± Sumiaton gave a pretty cruel smile, ¡°you could have built fortified gates at each road which approaches your domain. Add a moat, so it could not be walked around and you effectively stopped any invading force.¡±


    ¡°That would not stop the forest,¡± retorted Likhobor.


    ¡°No, but it would stop men. There is no other way to transfer troops other than by forest roads. You block them and it becomes impossible to attack you. As for now all your supplies of food lie outside of city walls. Any siege will instantly leave you cut off. No wonder that you lost all recent encounters.¡±


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°We do not wage wars as your kind does,¡± there was an anger written on commander¡¯s face, ¡°we do not shed blood of other men without care. It will only weaken both parties so that the forest may strike and consume warring factions. We drevlyani shun open conflict.¡±


    ¡°That is why you lost every conflict you got into, right?¡±


    All the audience was now following the word duel with interest. Militiaman calmed down, breathed in heavily, and continued.


    ¡°Tell me then, o expert slayer of men. If you won a war, what would you do next? What will you do when malice of the forest comes for you in person and your ranks are dwindled?¡±


    ¡°In what form will it come for me? Because I burned one of those to death on the way here¡± kinani man looked mildly interested.


    Likhobor made a grim face.


    ¡°It will be taller than trees, eclipsing sun, terrible to behold, its bulk enough to crash walls, its claws enough to slay companies, its very gaze deadly. I¡¯ve heard that you have defeated a lower lord of the woods. He is nothing compared to the true horrors lurking there.¡±


    ¡°Have you ever defeated such a thing?¡± Sumiaton raised a brow.


    ¡°Our guardian did vanquish such creatures. Luckily we did not suffer attacks of that kind since he left us. We are probably done for, if it ever happens.¡±


    The crewman opened his arms in an overly dramatic manner.


    ¡°Then you are in luck indeed. For my name is Sumiaton, Venator of Monsters. I slaughtered a spawn of Umrah with my own hands when I was young. Surely I am able to deal with your giants as well.¡±


    ¡°Wait, so he is that Sumiaton? The fabled monster slayer?¡± confusedly muttered Ymdaton.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t know? Yes, he is the one whose statue is placed in the Abeneewy garden,¡± answered Abimnupal.


    ¡°I did not know that he still serves in High Crew after all those years.¡±


    ¡°He is a honorary member. An eel amongst sharks. Watch him show off his achievements just as a peacock shows off its tail,¡± shrugged Azandahy.


    ¡°That is enough bragging,¡± raised his voice Azytenisar, ¡°Sumiaton sure did cross the line here, but try to perceive meaning of his words, not the form. He is not entirely wrong,¡± he switched to drevlyani again, ¡°I have the one last question for you, elected commander Likhobor. What is the strength of militia right now?¡±


    ¡°About three thousand warriors,¡± answered the man. Kinani lord shook his head in disappointment.


    ¡°Now I wish to listen to your treasurer,¡± uttered he.


    Another man from the gathering came forward. This one was stricken by age heavily: baggy eyes, slack eyelids, sunken cheeks, skin marked with dark spots, rich clothes hanging from his scrawny body. His gaze, however, was lively, shimmering with intelligence and cunning.


    ¡°I am Stezekhid, the treasurer,¡± introduced himself the old man, ¡°the wealth of our city at the moment equals eleven sacks. It is enough for our most immediate needs. I, however, advise my lord to raise taxes as soon as possible. We will be expected to pay tributes in six months and this is the only way for us to have enough gold in time.¡±


    ¡°Eleven sacks equals one hundred and ten sursurs in kinani system of measurement,¡± added Blagoslav.


    ¡°Who are you paying tributes to?¡± asked Azytenisar with a frowning face.


    ¡°Belosten, Velmytop, Ovrajin,¡± answered the treasurer.


    ¡°You have been refusing to fight back against oppressors and, instead, paying them, so they will leave you alone for a time,¡± kinani lord stood up and glared at the audience, ¡°you think that you have spared you powers by avoiding combat. In fact, you¡¯ve  just spent another resource. When the forest comes for Khladnetz, as you say, how will you pay for weapons, equipment, food? I am intending to put an end to¡­¡±


    Azytenisar was interrupted by a loud drumbeat from the outside. Present drevlyani began murmuring uneasily. Before long, a warrior ran into the hall hastily, without even closing the doors behind him. He announced something with clearly alarmed voice. Murmurs became even louder, civilians showed signs of panic, militia grasped their weapons.


    A shout from lord of Abeneewy made the crowd go silent. In a voice filled with authority he spoke to the gathering. Men calmed down, their faces becoming serious yet not unnerved anymore. They began leaving the building. Azytenisar then switched to kinani language, forestalling Blagoslav who was about to interpret.


    ¡°It appears that a force of armed men is approaching the city. High Crew, and every other crew will go out with me, to meet them. Except Symit, they will  stay to watch over the town. We will show people of Khladnetz, how we deal with such problems.¡±


    Not before long they marched out of the city¡¯s south gates. Four crews in loose formation moved forth to face the invaders with Azytenisar fully armed and armored leading from the front. Many warriors of militia also joined them on the way. Ymdaton could see the enemy from here. Less than a thousand paces ahead a cavalcade riding the same beasts that he saw earlier. There was a lot of warriors, more than eight hundred at his rough estimate.


    ¡°Look at their banners,¡± said Blagoslav. He was visibly unhappy of being involved into this conflict, yet lord of Abeneewy insisted that the dragoman accompany them, ¡°they are split horizontally, green above, dirty blue below. Those are banners of Velmytop, a city state to the south of here.¡±


    It did not take much time, before two parties met. They halted, cavalry on one side, infantry on the other. A warrior in gilt helmet rode forward. He proclaimed something in obviously brazen tone. Head of the city council moved, placing himself between Azytenisar and the mounted man. Unlike the translator, this one came despite being asked to stay behind the walls. He insisted that he should represent the people here. His answer sounded calm and solemn. The rider opened his mouth, but was interrupted by Blagoslav, who interpreted the conversation for kinani. Armed man lifted his brow in annoyance.


    ¡°Zelobit, warlord of Velmytop demands that Khaldnetz pays a tribute of two sacks. His city met some unplanned expenses and is in need of gold right now. Elder Tridum objects, that we already did pay the tribute to Velmytop a month ago.¡±


    ¡°It does not matter,¡± said Zelobit, grasping a sword at his side, ¡°We set the regulations for payment, we change them now. You agreed before, so you are ought to obey again.¡±


    Azytenisar gently grabbed Tridum by the shoulders and moved him away. He faced the warlord.


    ¡°I am Azytenisar, knez of Khaldnetz since this very day. As its leader and protector, I refuse to satisfy your demands. Begone and never return with such intents.¡±


    Instead of answering, Zelobit laughed loudly. He was not able to stop for several moments. When the warrior finally managed to calm down, he spat a reply reeking with contempt.


    ¡°Please, do translate,¡± kinani lord addressed Blagoslav, ¡°I did understand much of this rant.¡±


    ¡°Well, how do I put it,¡± the translator was visibly embarrassed by this, ¡°He calls you a cowering king of manprey, seemingly mocking your title. He also says that whatever kind of foreign mercenaries Khadnetz might have involved, it still won¡¯t help.¡±


    Azytenisar smiled viciously and spoke to the warlord.


    ¡°First of all, insult me again and I will put your head on a pike. You shall learn that we are no mercenaries. We came to guide and protect people of this city. I came to do so. And in doing so, one of my actions will be to end tributes once and for all. I repeat, go away before blood starts flowing.¡±


    ¡°And who exactly is going to shed blood here?¡± asked the warrior, leaning forward in the saddle, ¡°You are outnumbere. If you try to fight us off, you will be decimated.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± said Azytenisar. He gave a command to prepare for fight in kinani, than proceeded with a conversation, while crewman drew their weapons and assumed battle stances, ¡°yet we will not go down without fighting. My men are fiercer than you may expect. How many troops will you expend before winning there? Or, more importantly, how are you going to carry gold back to your town with battered force guarding it? You will provide a fine feast for the woods.¡±


    The warlord looked troubled. He dragged the reins, so his mount backed away few steps.


    ¡°If you truly want to settle this by force, than I propose a single combat.¡±


    ¡°I agree,¡± said the kinani lord and asked his men, ¡°Who is willing to fight  and decide the winner of this battle?¡±


    First to answer the call were Ymdaton and Abimnupal, raising their weapons almost simultaneously.


    ¡°Well then, I choose Abimnupal to be my champion,¡± said their master.


    ¡°But he is still recovering from the wounds that he suffered at the forest road,¡± objected Ymdaton. His comrade gave Crewslayer a disappointed look.


    ¡°Even few broken ribs are nothing to stop Abimnupal from crashing the foe. It appears, that I understand him better than you do.¡±


    The chosen warrior moved forward to meet his opponent. From the ranks of invaders came an excessively massive figure. He was four and a half cubits high and accordingly broad in shoulders. His armour was painted bright blue, his immense shield displayed colours of Velmytop on it, his weapon was a spiked chain flail, his face was hidden behind a solid metal mask, instead of a traditional aventail. The mask was crafted in a liking of a visage: uncaring, merciless, intimidating. Opponents regarded each other. Abimnupal did not unsheathe his axe.


    ¡°Can someone please hand me a spear?¡± said he. A crewman from the front ranks threw him said weapon, the champion catched it. He nodded in gratitude, than turning to his enemy again.


    ¡°This is madness!¡± shouted Blagoslav, ¡°Do you know who this man is? I heard the stories. A giant in the armour of a clear sky¡¯s colour. The pulveriser, chosen champion of Velmytop. He is called Ratobor the Azure. He never lost a single combat in his entire life. Never! Do you understand?¡±


    Abimnupal saluted and so did the opponent. He did not seem to pay attention to translator¡¯s warning. Two warriors circled each other, waiting for opportunity to attack. Drevlyani champion charged first. He swung a fail, but missed, the blocked a counterattack with a shield. After another few exchanges of blows, Ratobor made an attack that almost hit Abimnupal in his right hand. Kinani warrior moved it away the last moment, still the flail scratched at his armguard and he lost balance. The foe used this opening, trying to smash his head with a horizontal blow. Crewman escaped only barely, making a step backwards. Ymdaton noticed a suppressed grimace of pain on friend¡¯s face.


    ¡°I told you, he has not recovered! I should have fought instead!¡± said he to Azytenisar.


    ¡°Do not underestimate him. Watch,¡± answered the lord with an enigmatic smile.


    Drevlyani warrior rotated his flail again, intending to strike. When he swung, Abimnupal thrust the spear under the chain. It coiled around the shaft and came backwards, following the momentum. The ball struck Ratobor in the fingers and he released the weapon with a scream of pain.


    Before the enemy could recover from shock, kinani fighter made and upward swing with the spear. The flail that was still hanging on the shaft connected with opponent¡¯s helmet, making a loud ringing noise. He instantly dropped dead. Abimnupal turned his back to the foe and returned to kinani ranks.


    Forces of Velmytop looked agitated and shocked. Their leader dismounted and checked the body of his champion. He looked at Azytenisar with disbelief written upon his face.


    ¡°This man resolved many dozens of confrontations, fighting for our people. He never lost, never was close to defeat, never even was hard-pressed. Yet you command a warrior who easily cracked his skull with his own weapon,¡± he scanned kinani ranks, ¡°You are a fearsome bunch. According to the custom, we lost here. We retreat. Our demands of tribute are ceased from now on.¡±


    With those words he led forces of Velmytop away. These are the events that marked the first day of Azytenisar¡¯s reign.

 Chapter VI: Velvet Takeover

    ¡°Strike fiercer! Do not hesitate! Do not show mercy! You are going to get yourself killed, if you fight like this.¡±


    Ymdaton¡¯s throat felt dry from shouting at his trainees for the whole morning. Forty warriors sparred at improvised training grounds on the pasture half a league from city walls. Some were experienced militiamen, but most of them volunteered to bolster armed forces of Khladnetz. It was the decree of lord Azytenisar: the army of the city was to become more numerous, its warriors were to forget their reluctance to kill. In order to do this, drevlyani were organised into crews, to each squad was appointed a kinani instructor. They were making some progress, yet not nearly fast enough.


    ¡°You! That is not right at all,¡± he moved to the closest pair. Crewslayer now spoke drevlyani language enough to understand his pupils and guide them. During two months since his arrival to Khladnetz, he took lessons from Blagoslav. In his many travels he dealt with people of countless foreign nations. Learning another tongue was not that difficult for Ymdaton, especially under fine tutelage.


    He took a wooden sparring sword from the hands of a recruit and faced a grizzled militia member who lacked his left eye.


    ¡°You pull your strikes. You think too much. Thinking won¡¯t get you far in a fight. You should forget about what you are protecting, forget about what will happen if you lose, forget about your enemy being a human. The only thing that should matter for you is the flow of battle. Let¡¯s see. Defend yourself!¡± Crewslayer assumed a combat stance.


    The dreavlyani warrior attacked him. Ymdaton did not go very hard on his student, after all, he was of a different league. He parried a blow, then another one, then two more. Militiaman managed to lead his weapon to the side on the parry and then attempted a decapitating blow. He hesitated for a slightest moment when doing it. Crewslayer noticed the delay, he found just enough time to duck and point his blade to the opponent¡¯s hip. His partner was led unto the tip of the sword by the momentum of his own swing. He tripped over the weapon and fell. Ymdaton helped him to get up.


    ¡°That¡¯s the problem,¡± kinani warrior scanned the crew, everyone was observing the fight, ¡°What did you think of right now?¡± asked he militiaman.


    ¡°I thought that if it was the real fight, I would deal a grievous loss to the city that you were defending .¡±


    ¡°Here is the point,¡± Crewslayer raised his voice, so everybody could hear, ¡°You should not think about consequences during the fight. It distracts. Having something to protect may give you power to go into battle, but forget it when blades begin to clash. I¡¯m not telling you to fight mindless, just put aside everything superfluous. Trust your instincts, trust your reflexes, trust your intuition, trust your experience,¡± he threw the training sword back to the novice, ¡°Again, everyone!¡±


    He turned to see Sumiaton and two warriors of the high crew: Ahyq and Paltisumas, standing twenty steps away, observing his actions.


    ¡°Nice lesson,¡± yelled the Venator and clapped theatrically. Ymdaton approached him.


    ¡°Came to inspect my work?¡± asked he.


    ¡°No one doubts you, Crewslayer. I am here to save you from tutor¡¯s routine. Let¡¯s take a walk,¡± he strode away without waiting for an agreement.


    ¡°Are you happy with your new position?¡± asked he when they distanced enough from the crew, so that no one could hear.


    ¡°Why should I not be happy? Being in High Crew is the uttermost honour for the warrior,¡± answered Ymdaton.


    ¡°Well, you did not have enough opportunities to express your martial prowess, didn¡¯t you? Isn¡¯t that what you sought at Vetluna? To show your power to the world.¡±


    ¡°I fought for survival,¡± spat an answer Crewslayer, suppressing any display of emotion.


    ¡°Is it the whole truth?¡± enquired Sumiaton with a sly shine in his eyes.


    ¡°Well,¡± hesitated Ymdaton, ¡°I kind of thought that ballad-mongers could make it into a wicked song.¡±


    ¡°There is nothing to be ashamed of,¡± laughed the monsterslayer, ¡°I thought the same when I was stalking that terror of the sea. To get recognition, to join High Crew and become a true part of something bigger, a true part of Abeneewy, of the legend,¡± his face became serious suddenly.


    ¡°We are not the part of the house, we are merely blades in its service,¡± said Crewslayer impassively.


    ¡°I disagree. I consider everyone who sheds blood for Abeneewy to be one with it. Some think themselves to be in a highest position, while in truth they are mere serfs earning for favor. Like old Lulaton, for example. But the warriors who risk their lives in battle are indeed true kin to the house,¡± declared Sumiaton, while looking somewhere in the distance.


    ¡°Do you have something against our lord¡¯s trusted advisor?¡± asked Ymdaton in a half-joking manner.


    ¡°Perhaps I will tell you more, if you agree to assist me,¡± replied the venator with a mysterious face.


    ¡°And why would I abandon the task given to me by lord Azytenisar himself?¡±


    ¡°To do the task even more crucial to Azytenisar¡¯s rule of this state,¡± Sumiaton made a dramatic pause, ¡°You see there is a gold mine to the south-west of here. It was in the possession of Khladnetz for years, however, in the absence of the local guardian, men of Belosten took over by force. I intend to return it into our hands and thus fill the treasury with steady flow of gold.¡±


    ¡°And what would be my part in this campaign?¡± asked Ymdaton.


    ¡°They won¡¯t relinquish ownership of the mine that easily. There most probably will be an armed confrontation. You would surely like to claim some skulls, especially since you were deprived of opportunity to fight in a single combat two moons ago,¡± told Sumiaton, while staring directly into warrior¡¯s eyes.


    Crewslayer averted his gaze and was silent for some moments.


    ¡°I will assist you,¡± declared he finally, ¡°when do we begin.¡±


    ¡°Arrive tomorrow at the farm on lake road, by the sixth post from the city. I will gather my forces here.¡±


    Ymdaton wanted to ask what forces the man was going to assemble, yet Sumiaton left immediately after hearing his answer.


    Next day early in the morning he was sitting on the fence of the said farm. Crewslayer arrived way before other forces of the Venator. Dozen steps away a wife of the farm¡¯s owner, a young woman with curly black hair was telling story to three boys sitting around her. Her sons were listening with genuine interest.


    ¡°In those ancient times city of Zapadensk was pretty and prosperous. Yet one day a most horrendous monstrosity came out of the forest to hunt down its citizens, despoil its goods and demolish its houses. It was truly hideous to behold: taller than a largest building, possessing three heads, seven tails, scales, claws, fangs, vile breath. No one could oppose it. The entire militia of the town rode out to battle it and were beaten, chased away, devoured. People of Zapadensk cried out for their misery was great. It was then that a lonely warrior volunteered to face the beast.


    He rode on his black bakhmat and made a battle upon the monster. The fight was terrible, very earth trembled with their blows. Three days and three nights the hero and the beast fought. The brave man broke all his weapons upon creatures impenetrable hide: a sword shattered, a mace cracked, an axe fell apart, a spear snapped. When no blades were left, the hero battered the monster with his bare hands.


    Finally, the beast began to show exhaustion and the warrior gained the upper hand. He cracked each of three skulls with fists and heels and felled the foe. Then he severed each of three heads with a thwart saw, so the beast would not ever recover. Blood flowed out of monster¡¯s necks in such amount that flooded all the surroundings. Earth itself refused to soak the vile fluid, so the gore streamed forward and created a red river which exists to this very day.


    The warrior was taken by the current, thrown and tossed by the waves. He did drown in it almost, yet managed to swim to the shore and crawl out. He returned to Zapadensk and people of it cheered for him, honoured him, made songs about him. So a single man saved the city from the vile monster of the forest. The woods did not dare to show their powers there forever after.¡±


    Children cheered as one.


    ¡°Now check if all mounts are fed and ready to carry honoured warriors. Go!¡± said she. Boys ran away with laughs and chatter. Ymdaton approached the woman.


    ¡°Tell me, is this fairytale supposed to symbolize us?¡± asked he.


    She stared at him with a confused look, but then laughed after few moments.


    ¡°How arrogant of you, mighty islander. This tale is older than you, or me, or most of our ancestors. My grandmother told me it, her grandmother told her it and so on. It was shunned before, since it was considered irreverence towards the guardian. But now that we don¡¯t have one, we are free to tell our children stories of the old again.¡±


    ¡°But why ¡®Zapadensk¡¯, literally the western city?¡± asked he with a forced smile, feeling really dumb.


    ¡°You have a keen mind,¡± said she without a shade of mockery, ¡°I in fact changed the name of the town. It was originally ¡®Vostochin¡¯, the eastern city. I switched it, so that my children will learn to respect people of the west, your people. Our lord Altyzar especially.¡±


    ¡°It is ¡®Azytenisar¡¯,¡± quickly pointed he.


    ¡°It is quite difficult for us to pronounce,¡± added she with a perky shine in her eyes.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it dangerous to live behind the walls?¡± changed subject he, ¡°you are at the hand¡¯s breadth from the forest. Who knows what can crawl out of it one day.¡±


    ¡°Forces of Odwitchni did not dare to show themselves before, when the guardian was watching over the city,¡± she did not show any anxiety, ¡°This has changed of course. Now in the night voices can be heard just outside the house sometimes, sometimes even footsteps.¡±


    ¡°Why won¡¯t you move into the city then?¡± raised a brow Ymdaton, ¡° you may not fear for yourself, or your husband, but you have three beautiful sons.¡±


    ¡°Do not think that I am not afraid¡± woman¡¯s expression changed into something resembling seriousness, ¡°It is impossible for us to acquire home inside Khladnetz. People of the city understand our situation just well. Even with lowered taxes, knez be praised, price that they charge for houses, land, or simply a corner to stay would put our family into lifelong debt. I don¡¯t want such fate for my children either.¡±


    Crewslayer felt uncomfortable with the subject. Fortunately, the woman changed it.


    ¡°Looks like your companions arrived,¡± said she, ¡°I will go and prepare your mounts.¡±


    Indeed, by the road approached Sumiaton at the head of fifty-man strong squad. Ymdaton made a mental node to tell lord Azytenissar about the unfair pricing of housing in the city. The Venator greeted the warrior, as he approached.


    ¡°You arrived rather early, Crewslayer. If only all of my comrades possessed your punctuality,¡± crewmen accompanying him laughed, ¡°Come, let us acquire our steeds.¡±


    Together they walked around the farmhouse, to see the mother and her older son tacking up beasts, while two younger boys were bringing more sets of saddles and reins from the house. Ymdaton was one of the first to mount his bakhmat, so the animals were called. That was another custom that he learned while residing in Khladnetz. Back at home he would have rather took a light boat and sailed around the island if he needed to travel across it. In Odwitchni there was no way to speed up your journeys, other than perform them in saddle. So he studied riding.


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Not long after, all the force was mounted and ready to depart. Sumiaton thanked the woman of the house with slight bow, she smiled and bobbed a curtsy. The squad strode for the lake road, and then headed by it into the forest. They followed the main path for about two hours, before taking a turnoff road to the right.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it dangerous to labour that deep in the wood. Who would willingly accept such job?¡± asked Ymdaton the monster hunter, who rode beside him.


    ¡°It is truly perilous place to work, yes,¡± answered Sumiaton, ¡°Yet drevlyani involved in mining are paid more than generously. In few moons of labour they make enough money to feed their families for a whole year. And every few moons a new shift comes, so that diggers do not endanger themselves for a prolonged time. Of course there are lunatics who are ready to work in the mine for a whole year, yet they are the minority.¡±


    ¡°You sound like you studied those dirt diggers a lot.¡±


    ¡°Do I hear notes of contempt?¡± the venator smirked, ¡°I did study them, since goldmines scattered through Odwitchni provide hopes for our lord.¡±


    ¡°You promised to tell me of your animosity towards Lulaton,¡± switched the subject Crewslayer, feeling a little bit ashamed.


    ¡°Is my humble opinion that important?¡± said Sumiaton with an obviously fake humility. He continued without waiting for an answer, ¡°He is a slimy kind. Thanks to his machinations many wealthy families are indebted to Abeneewy for generations ahead.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it the natural way for Abeneewy? They were always creditors. Umrah dreams, they even consider Ytenisar, the guardian of debts, to be their celestial patron,¡± Ymdaton was annoyed, he expected more interesting answer.


    ¡°It is so indeed. However, it is different with the old serf. Let me provide an example. Have you heard of house Kysinpas?¡±


    ¡°I remember something. Isn¡¯t that a family of tyrsenoi descent?¡±


    ¡°Exactly. But is was not always well known. They hid their roots for centuries. Then, one day when our lord Azytenisar held council, Lulaton displayed undoubtful proofs of it. Kysinpas and Abeneewy were rivaling houses at the time, almost equal in power. He then proposed a solution to rid our master of these opponents once and for all. Azytenisar agreed. Soon, the rumour of Kysinpas¡¯ heritage spread wide and their partners began abandoning them, ceasing any business with the house. Their fortune thinned, their sources of income waned. That was when our lord graciously offered hand. Kysinpas were given a loan, after a loan, after a loan. It kept them from going into poverty, yet their debts to Abeneewy would not be repaid in several generations.


    What I want you to understand is that we are both warriors. I personally deem these means dishonourable and abhorrent. The old man probably possesses plots how to dispose of you, me, and any other man in the service of the house. Isn¡¯t it disturbing?¡±


    Crewslayer left the question without an answer and kept thoughtful silence for the rest of the journey. Soon the forest around began to thin, signaling that there was a civilized area nearby. The party left the woods, stepping onto a medium sized glade. There they were met by a formation of about a hundred warriors, awaiting the attack with risen white shields. Ymdaton noticed the roofed entrance into the mines not far away behind them.


    Sumiaton urged his mount a bit ahead of his squad.


    ¡°Warriors of Belosten, I want to speak to your commander,¡± yelled he.


    A man in a fur lined hat instead of a helmet stepped forth.


    ¡°You see me. Do talk.¡±


    ¡°This mine is a rightful possession of Khladnetz. In the name of knez Azytenisar I demand that you abandon your claims on it and depart.¡±


    ¡°And if I refuse?¡± the man asked with a bored face, ¡°We outnumber you two to one. My forces could just slaughter you all and forget about your coming.¡±


    ¡°Did you hear of the demise of Ratobor the Asure?¡± smiled the venator, ¡°What makes you think your men would fare better?¡±


    The leader of the warriors scanned kinani ranks with a doubt in his eyes.


    ¡°But bloodshed is not necessary,¡± Sumiaton did not give him the opportunity to retort, ¡°Let¡¯s discuss our options peacefully. I propose a zasedany.¡±


    ¡°You studied our customs well,¡± gave the dry laugh the man in the hat, ¡°Well then,¡± he made a gesture with a hand. Not before long a massive servant appeared from behind the ranks of Belosten. He carried two wooden stools decorated with fine carving and painted in bright colours. The man brought seats right between two forces and left them there, retreating right after.


    The enemy commander waved to his men and they moved two dozen steps back. Sumiaton did the same. Two leaders approached stools. Both were moving deliberately slow, trying to not outpace each other. Finally, they met. Men sat there and spoke. No one could hear their conversation, for distance was large. The dialogue continued for quite awhile, warriors at either side began to murmur in displeasure. At last, they stood up. Sumiaton and the drevlayani commander exchanged last words and then returned to their respective ranks.


    ¡°The ownership of the mine will be decided by a single combat,¡± said the monster hunter to his force with a smile, ¡°My choice of a champion is Ymdaton,¡± Crewslayer stepped forward with a pleased grin, ¡°and Ahyq,¡± continued Sumiaton on the same breath. Confused whispers passed through the squad.


    ¡°That wouldn¡¯t be a single combat with more than two participants, right?¡± asked annoyedly Ymdaton.


    ¡°This will be two on two combat,¡± answered the venator.


    ¡°Never heard of this kind,¡± said Ahyq with curious face.


    ¡°You will be the first of us to try. Now go, acquire this victory for me. Our lord Azytenisar counts on us taking back this damn mine,¡± proclaimed Sumiaton.


    Crewslayer and his partner moved forward. From enemy ranks emerged two drevlyani warriors. They looked a bit weird to Ymdaton and it took him several moments to understand why. Both men were clad in exactly same armour, armed with same spears and shields, dressed in same clothes. The only difference was that one of them had his cloak thrown over his right shoulder, while for the other one it was hanging on his left side. Both pairs moved closer to engage.


    Ymdaton got the left foe. They simply maneuvered one around other for quite some time, trying to read the opponent. The champion of Belosten attacked first. Crewslayer deflected a blow. His opponent attempted a feint and a feint more, yet both were detected by the crewman, who did not fell for them. The kinani fighter saw urgency in enemies movements. The opponent tried not to slay him, but at least incapacitate quickly. Before Ymdaton could craft a plan how to exploit it, the foe surprised him.


    When avoiding the high swing of an axe, dreavlyani warrior dropped to one knee and made an uprising blow with his shield, as he stood back up. While the dodge move was unexpected, the following swing was too obvious, Crewlsayer easily evaded it. The next moment he understood, that hitting him was not enemy¡¯s intention.


    With an edge of the shield his opponent sent flying dozen of tiny rocks which were covering the ground around the mine. Some of them flew directly into Ymdaton¡¯s face. He covered his head with his own shield, which gave the foe some time to move. The crewman expected his opponent to charge him that very moment, yet the attack did not come.


    When he lowered his shield, he saw the dreavlyani fighter standing several steps away. The enemy changed a grip on his spear and hurled it at Crewslayer. The flight of the weapon was easy to predict, so Ymdaton avoided it by simply tilting a bit to the right. A ringing noise made him turn his head. He saw Ahyq lying on the ground with a thrown spear beside him.


    A brief look told Crewslayer that his partner was not heavily injured: the weapon did not stuck in his body and there was no blood anywhere. It probably struck him in the armoured part of body, however, with enough force to knock him down. Ymdaton marveled at the precise positioning and coordination of the enemies, which made such trick possible. The warrior also noticed the other enemy moving closer to deliver a finishing blow. Crewslayer did not have any more time to look around, for his opponent was upon him again.


    This time he came with a short blade, his side arm apparently. The enemy attacked more furiously this time, but still to no avail. Ymdaton managed to cast another look over his shoulder. He expected to see Ahyq already murdered and the second champion coming for him. To his surprise, the other foe was thrashing on the ground, with Crewslayer¡¯s partner choking him from behind. Ymdaton silently praised his unwavering comrade. The champion in front of him saw it too. Apparently he understood, that there was no escaping that hold alone and he needed to help his friend. The drevlyani combatant could not overcome his kinani enemy quickly, so he attempted a trick.


    After next Ymdaton¡¯s swing, he visibly missed a step and tumbled backwards. Crewslayer noticed a slight hint of pretense. He decided to play along still, faking an attempt to jump at the falling foe. The answer was a kick to his legs, which he anticipated. He catched it with a shin guard, removing most of the momentum. He than fell to the side in a totally fake display of stumbling. His opponent quickly stood up and rushed for his companion, who was fading away by now. Unknown to him, Crewslayer did the same behind his back and followed.


    Ahyq saw the double trick. He began to hit his victim with a fist to the helmet, matching the rhythm of Ymdaton¡¯s steps. That masked the sound of kinani champion¡¯s movements, so that when he struck his opponent under the knee from behind, it was completely unexpected. He grasped the shocked foe by the head, and showed the edge of the axe under his aventail, opening the throat. At the same moment, the other champion of Belosten finally lost consciousness to the chokehold. Crewslayer helped Ahyq to get up.


    ¡°You are the worst at cooperation,¡± laughed Ahyq, as they returned to kinani ranks where they were met with cheers, ¡°I would have got killed because of you, if I was not that good.¡±


    Crewslayer was about to retort, yet restrained himself out of sheer respect to partner¡¯s martial prowess. He smiled silently instead.


    Sumiaton met them.


    ¡°Fine battle, brethren. Today you helped your lord much more than you can understand.¡±


    Crewmen chanted their names and yelled praises. Ymdaton observed warriors of Belosten. They already recovered bodies of their fallen and were fiercely discussing something now. He expected that they might ignore the results of the challenge and attack kinani force anyway. Their leader climbed a massive stone and spoke to his men passionately, with a lot of gestures. They seemed to calm down. Soon warriors of Belosten returned to their camp and began to pack up. They left before dusk alongside miners. Sumiaton¡¯s squad stayed to guard the mine until first shift of Khladnetz¡¯s diggers arrived.

 Chapter VII: Undoings

    Another day of mustering the troops was coming to an end. Ymdaton¡¯s crew was making some progress undoubtedly. As he was circling the sparring pairs, he saw many of warriors displaying more ruthlessness and determination than before. There was Viroglyad, a militiaman of some experience, cornering his opponent with vicious swings of a wooden sword. Warriors were still lacking on average though. Not because they were wanting in martial prowess. Even novices learned few tricks with a blade by now. But the traditions of non-violence towards humans still showed strong. Crewslayer saw several trainees avoiding vital areas clearly on purpose. The thing that he taught them not to do from the first day.


    Ymdaton clenched his fists. A tickle passed through his muscles, urging him to knock someone from his feet, to yell in disappointment. He closed his eyes and let out a heavy breath. The kinani warrior let the frustration leave him along the air that left his lungs. He felt his body becoming lighter, as if his fading anger had a physical weight. He opened his eyes and saw men trying their best to overcome their weaknesses.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough for today. Everyone go home and rest, for tomorrow we begin anew,¡± announced he.


    Crewslayer proceeded to follow his own order. He entered the city through the closest gates and headed for his lodging. After half an hour he was already standing in the hallway of the house. A middle aged maid who had her hair hidden under a headscarf met him.


    ¡°Master Dragomir wants to meet you in the dining room,¡± said she.


    The massive hall that served for feasts had its two walls lined with mica windows. The floor was carpeted with pelt rugs. Beast heads and trinkets of expensive metals hung here and there. The room was empty, only one man sat at the head of an immense table. It was Dragomir himself, a merchant, one of most respected and wealthy men in Khladnetz. The master of the house pointed his hand at the chair beside him. Crewslayer approached and took a sit. The trader grasped a wooden jug and poured an amber liquid into the mug right in front of Ymdaton. The kinani warrior felt the distinct smell of the spirit, albeit one mixed with honey tones.


    ¡°I don¡¯t actually want¡­¡± began he.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you disrespect the master of the house,¡± interrupted Dragomir, his intonation swaying in the middle of the phrase.


    With a sigh, Crewslayer drunk his portion, the merchant did the same. The air burned his mouth and throat immediately, he shook his head and almost had his eyes shedding tears. Dragomir silently pushed a dish with sliced smoked meat towards him. Ymdaton took a piece and chewed at it, feeling an instant relief.


    ¡°What? Do you islanders not have strong drinks back at home?¡± asked the owner of the house with a mocking smile.


    ¡°We do drink a fortified wine at our feasts. Not like this, though, this is one smashing thing. And we certainly do not drink similar beverage outside of special occasions. Only the wine diluted with water as a refreshment.¡±


    ¡°You are a boring bunch,¡± said Dragomir and filled mugs again. Crewslayer was about to protest, but then silently took a new round with the man of the house. He felt a little dizzy now.


    ¡°We are just not used to drown our problems at the bottom of the jar,¡± Ymdaton paused, trying to think of a smart follow-up despite his mind being sluggish at the moment, ¡°we drown them at the bottom of the sea, in blood of our enemies.¡±


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    ¡°Perhaps you just don¡¯t have enough problems,¡± the merchant filled mugs once more, ¡°Another round and maybe I will become just brave enough to talk about mine.¡±


    They drank again.


    ¡°You see,¡± continued Dragomir, ¡°You are a simple warrior. Your goals are similarly simple,¡± last two words took him several attempts to pronounce, since he began swapping syllables, ¡°I, on the other hand has so much to control: my business, my family, my public image, my rivals. I wager that your superiors are not unknown to drinking it all away either. Don¡¯t get me wrong, I¡¯m not crying because it is difficult for me. After all, I achieved much. It¡¯s just that once I turn my attention away from something, it begins to fall apart. I can¡¯t hold everything at once, and once I trust anyone with it, he fails inevitably. I hope my son will become a trusty partner of mine. Provided he survives.¡±


    Another round passed, Ymdaton was listening carefully, at least as carefully as his unfocused senses could manage.


    ¡°Judging by your silence I guess you thought of what I meant to say by this last saying of mine,¡± Dragomir cut the phrase before finishing, ¡°Sorry, got lost, kinda. I don¡¯t think you understood. I don¡¯t mean will survive the forest. Everyone does it here.¡±


    ¡°He got seriously ill, didn¡¯t he?¡± spewed Ymdaton first thing that came to his mind, ¡°I understand now.¡±


    ¡°No you don¡¯t. Take a round.¡±


    They drank once more, chewed at the meat and were silent for some time.


    ¡°He got ill, yes. But for all my wealth, for all my reputation, for all my power I can not help him. He is afflicted by a two day disease. Every two days a severe fever strikes him with fire. Then it retreats. Then it returns in two days. It is dangerous for children, for it could leave even a healthy child simple forever. And my boy was always of weak health. I found a medician who knows how to treat it. Yet he needs a bark of a rare tree to prepare a medicine. I found a hunter who knows where the tree grows, yet it grows in the dangerous part of the forest and he refuses to head there without an escort of at least three able warriors. When I tried to recruit militia as bodyguards for him, everyone refused upon hearing the destination. The eastern groves. No one returns from there, they said. I am out of options. I fear my son will not endure for much longer.¡±


    This time Ymdaton himself refilled the mugs.


    ¡°I will help you to acquire your potion,¡± said he after swallowing.


    ¡°Tell me that again tomorrow, for now I believe that mead gave you too much courage,¡± answered Dragomir.


    ¡°One can not have more courage than I, drunk or sober,¡± proclaimed Ymdaton, while standing up. He almost fell, his body failing to compensate for the sudden transition. He grabbed a chair and regained the balance, ¡°I will go and ask my comrades to assist me now, stay here,¡± he turned and left the hall with unsure steps. The merchant did not find words to stop him.


    Crewslayer reached his room and decided to take a sit on the bed. There he planned to rest a little before talking to his comrades. As he closed his eyes, sweet mindless serenity engulfed him.

 Chapter VIII: Foolish Enough

    When Ymdaton opened his eyes the next time, he was lying on the edge of the bed, highlighted by the morning sun which shone through the window. His mouth was sour, his teeth creaking as glass against ceramic. His head felt heavy. Despite all the discomfort, Crewslayer jumped from the bed and ran to the entrance, hoping to meet his comrades who should have been leaving at that time.


    Abimnupal and Hasdruhy were already at the gates of the household when Crewslayer catched up with them. Two fully armored crewmen offered a strike contrast to Ymdaton¡¯s rumpled informal clothing, messy hair, and swollen face.


    ¡°Wait a moment! I require your help,¡± yelled he.


    ¡°Fresh air and a lot of water, here, my helpful advice,¡± answered Abimnupal with a grin. Hasdruhy chuckled.


    ¡°Oh, very funny. That I can deal with myself, thank you very much. I need you to assist me in a certain undertaking,¡± Ymdaton proceeded to tell them about the merchant¡¯s trouble.


    ¡°I take it that you defeated at least a small barrel yesterday. Otherwise you should be simply insane,¡± said Hasdruhy after Crewslayer finished the story.


    ¡°Why is that. A simple walk into the forest will not be difficult for three armed men and an experienced hunter,¡± shrugged his shoulders Ymdaton.


    ¡°Tell me, have you ever looked at maps of Odwitchni?¡± asked Hasdruhy. He continued without waiting for an answer, ¡°The thing is they are empty to the east. Because no one is stupid enough to go there and try charting those lands, while those who were stupid enough never returned. Woods there are spirit-, monster-, devil-, and whatever-else-infested thrice over. They devour people, literally.¡±


    ¡°You are dragging yourself into another suicidal situation, following your lust for glory,¡± added Abimnupal.


    ¡°And yet hunters go there and expect to return. The forest is deadly in its entirety, and yet you go there on missions, travel through it. You should be ever ready to threaten your life as warriors. What kind of cowardice do I see now?¡± spat Crewslayer angrily.


    ¡°This is no cowardice,¡± answered Abimnupal with a disgruntled expression, ¡°Yes, I fully expect my life to end in battle, I am long since at peace with this thought. However, what you propose equals dropping on your blade right there. This is not a valorous deed worthy of a song, this is a simple stupidity. Don¡¯t you have a family at Isary? I have a wife and a little daughter. I don¡¯t want my love to tell my child that her father went into cursed grooves as an idiot and did not ever return.¡±


    Those words reminded Ymdtaon of his wife awfully. He cleared his throat.


    ¡°That is not the lust for glory that leads me. Dragomir is struck by misery and I am going to help him. Are you with me?¡±


    Abimnupal shook his head in refusal.


    ¡°I wish you all the luck under the stars, but I will not take part in this madness,¡± said Hasdruhy.


    ¡°Oh fine, I will find someone with an actual spine then,¡± growled Crewslayer and stalked back to the house.


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    It took him some time and several fists to the wall to calm down. Ymdaton bathed with cold water to shake off heaviness of body and mind. He dressed himself, armed himself and went out into the city.


    Streets of Khladnetz were full of people, bakhmats and carts loaded with goods. Construction sites could be seen here and there, new homes were rising. Several moons ago lord Azytenisar issued a decree that secured the right of every family to have a housing behind the walls. Since then most of farmers began moving in, leaving their houses in the fields to be only temporary shelter for the seasonal work.


    Soon he reached a fine yet relatively small house in the south part of the city. Crewslayer knocked on the door. After a considerable amount of time a middle-aged woman with ruddy cheeks opened.


    ¡°Greetings, warrior. What do you seek in my house?¡± said she with a warm smile. Ymdaton noticed a drop of sweat rolling down her forehead.


    ¡°Is Ahyq there? I want to talk with him.¡±


    ¡°I am indeed here,¡± said Ahyq who appeared behind the woman. The warrior gently moved her aside by the shoulders and stood in front of Crewslayer, ¡°What brings you to my lodging, friend?¡±


    Ymdaton glanced at the woman.


    ¡°Oh,¡± an expression of understanding appeared on Ahyq¡¯s face, ¡°Miroslava, dear. This is my comrade Ymdaton, who is known in the city as Ljadobor, He wants to speak with me in private, can you please leave us for now?¡±


    The woman examined Crewslayer with an awed look, which made him straighten and strike a more heroic pose. She nodded and went back into the house, closing the door behind her. Ymdaton and Ahyq were left standing on the porch.


    ¡°So, again, what brings you here?¡±


    The story was against retold by Ymdaton, including the refusal of Abimnupal and Hasdruhy.


    ¡°I am quite fond of your noble undertaking,¡± said Ahyq after a pause. Ymdaton¡¯s face brightened with joy, ¡°However, I will be busy in but two days. Sumiaton leads an armed embassy to Ovrajin. I am a part of it.¡±


    Crewslayer let out a sigh of disappointment.


    ¡°I advise you to join us also. The Venator is going to negotiate for some valuable issues. Your blade will be much more useful with us then somewhere deep in the woods.¡±


    ¡°That is out of question,¡± cut him off Ymdaton, ¡°I gave my word. I will certainly be going on this mission, just without you, it seems. Sorry for troubling.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± said Ahyq with a thoughtful face, ¡°I can not accompany you. Yet I can propose another man who could be willing. Paltisumas was not selected for the embassy. He is currently patrolling the borders, yet he will be returning soon and will stay unoccupied for several days. Try asking him.¡±


    A smile appeared on Ymdaton¡¯s face.


    ¡°Thank you for an advice, friend, I will be off searching for him right away,¡± said he and left without adding anything more.

 Chapter IX: Gold is the Answer

    Not long after meeting Ahyq, Ymdaton acquired a mount for few coins at public stables. He rode the bakhmat out of city gates and to the very forest¡¯s edge. Then he followed the treeline, intending to meet the patrol eventually. The greenness was riddled with logging sites, stumps covering the empty ground for hundred and more steps into the woods. Such demand of timber came not only from wealth of the city rising under Azytenisar¡¯s rule. Wooden forts were being built at the principal roads, bolstering defences, as Sumiaton has advised.


    He ran into Paltisumas¡¯ squad after traversing about tenth of border¡¯s length. The leading warrior saw him from afar, greeting Crewslayer with a spread fingers of a risen palm. Ymdaton returned the gesture and then turned around, slowing the pace of his steed. Patrolling warriors catched up with him soon. The force was a motley one: some crewmen, some militia and a man of High Crew at the head.


    ¡°Good day, Crewslayer,¡± said Paltisumas, guiding his mount to ride alongside Ymdaton, ¡°I take it that you have some urgent business, since you rode out searching for us at the border.¡±


    ¡°Not that urgent, but pretty important,¡± answered Crewslayer, ¡°How is your watch going? Got bored yet?¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not the most breathtaking task that I¡¯ve had. It¡¯s not the shallowest either. Few days ago, for example, we hunted down a thing of the forest which stifled sleeping lumberjacks by sitting at their chests. It put a ferocious fight.¡±


    ¡°Interesting,¡± uttered Ymdaton, trying not to rash conversation with his request, ¡°To tell the truth, I¡¯ve came to offer you an opportunity to cleanse woods some more. I¡¯ve heard that your shift ends soon.¡±


    ¡°It is so. What do you propose?¡±


    Crewslayer explained his task once again. Paltisumas was silent for quite some time. Ymdaton feared that he will refuse too.


    ¡°I will help,¡± finally answered the warrior. Before the smile could come to Crewslayer¡¯s face, Paltisumas added, ¡°However, I will demand a reward. Paid in gold.¡±


    ¡°Not a problem,¡± heaved a sigh of relief Ymdaton, ¡°Dragomir is one of the wealthiest merchants in Khladnetz. He will pay any price for the survival of his child.¡±


    ¡°Decided, then. When and where do we meet?¡±


    ¡°In three days seek me at the merchant¡¯s household.¡±


    That left Ymdaton with but one warrior to find. The last one proved to be the hardest. For the rest of the day and the next one he asked many crewmen and met only refusal. Tired and hopeless he was trudging a street of Khladnetz at the evening of the second day.


    Crewslayer was desperately trying to think of some more possible candidates, when a group of militiamen entering a large house caught his eyes. Bright light streamed through windows, music, chatter and laughter could be heard from inside. He knew that place. It was a drinking house. And, apparently, a lot of drevlyani warriors spent free time there. A thought began forming in Ymdaton¡¯s mind. He followed militia and also entered the building.


    Right behind the doors was a massive hall filled with tables and chairs. A crowd of men drank,  conversated and generally were having fun. Crewslayer found an empty place in a slightly darker corner and sat there, observing. A wench approached him and asked whatever he would like to order.


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    ¡°A mug of mead, I suppose,¡± answered he without paying much attention to the girl.


    His order was soon delivered and he continued to ogle people around, while sipping it. There was so many militiamen, that he came to a conclusion it should common habit among them to cheer oneself up with a strong drink. Ymdaton even noticed some of his trainees.


    Viroglyad, for example, was leaning over the round table anxiously. Men beside him were similarly displaying nervousness with their body language. Crewslayer stayed his gaze on them. It soon became obvious to him that a group played some sort of a gambling game. The rules were not difficult, for he understood them after seeing but a round.


    ¡°White, white, and red,¡± said Viroglyad, while pushing a silver coin to the middle of the table. He then picked up three dice made of either wood or bone, shook, and cast them. The result was white, black, and red. The militiaman covered his eyes with a palm. Others laughed and put the coin into the pile of currency which was rising on the table.


    Dice were painted in three colours. Three sides were white, two were black, and only one was red. Players took turns casting them. A player was ought to put his bet before trying. The one whose prediction came true, took the amount of money from the pile depending on the rarity of his combination. What Crewslayer also understood is that Viroglyad never won. He witnessed ten turns of the game and his protegee lost each one. Finally, another man from the table got lucky with a black-black-red cast and took all the bets. That concluded the game and gamblers left one after another. Ymdaton rushed to the exit also, leaving the payment on his table.


    Viroglyad was slowly making his way down the street. Crewslayer torn him out of his brooding with a loud greeting.


    ¡°Oh, good evening, instructor,¡± the militiaman looked surprised, ¡°haven¡¯t you came to visit korchma? Never thought you were into that kind of thing.¡±


    ¡°Visit what?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, the house of drinking. Here is your free lesson in our language, by the way,¡± smiled Viroglyad in a way that made Ymdaton want to punch him. Crewslayer considered his decision again.


    ¡°I¡¯ll cut straight to the point. What if I told that there is a wealthy merchant in the town who wants some brave men to perform a certain task. And he pays in gold. Lots of gold, since the task is personal.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t be collecting debts with a sword in hands, you should have figured,¡± answered the drevlyani man with a shrug.


    ¡°Not that kind of task,¡± Ymdaton sighed. He told the story of a seek child and a possible cure.


    Viroglyad was thinking for a moment.


    ¡°I will demand a lot,¡± finally said he.


    ¡°I know. He will offer a lot. It is his beloved son, what else do you expect. So, will you help me?¡±


    ¡°Sure, when do we start?¡±

 Chapter X: A Forest Thief

    The merchant happily gave Ymdaton details on where to find a hunter, or rather a hunter-gatherer as he was styled by Dragomir.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t that soil crawler build his home somewhere by the road,¡± asked angrily Paltisumas, who rode beside Crewslayer, ¡°Instead, you can only reach him by trudging through fields. Looks like he enjoys troubling others.¡±


    ¡°Nah, he just wants less visitors,¡± said Viroglyad, ¡°He is the one who steals goods of the forest and brings them to men for sale. He makes his living by playing hide and seek with the horrors of the woods. Of course he is a bit weird.¡±


    ¡°Shush,¡± Ymdaton pointed his finger forward, ¡°I can see his home from here.¡±


    Indeed, a small building was seen at the horizon, at the very edge of the forest. After a closer look, the hunter¡¯s house was in fact a dugout with only a wooden roof standing higher than the ground. Gatherer himself was also present to the eyes. The man was rather small, three and a half cubits of height, not wide in shoulders, with a short cut black hair that was touched with silver, mustache adorned his scarred face.


    The hunter did not pay attention to his guests. Instead, he was absorbed by tying a bunch of dead leaves by petioles. At his site sat a cat with a thick long fur of light black colour, which became grey at its sides, muzzle, ears, and paws. It watched man¡¯s work with interest in its green eyes. Soon the man finished and threw the result of his work to the animal. The cat happily catched it and began rolling it around. Only after this the hunter turned his disinterested gaze to the visitors.


    ¡°Greetings, hunter,¡± said Ymdaton while dismounting, ¡°We came to ask you¡­¡±


    ¡°I know exactly why you came,¡± cut him off the man, ¡°Dragomir the trader already was here earlier pleading me to bring the bark of tree, leaves of which never fall. So that his precious child could be saved from a fever. I asked him to provide me with an escort of able warriors, yet you do not look like one.¡±


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    ¡°Should I strike you from your feet, so that you change your decision?¡± retorted Viroglyad.


    ¡°You can try, but there is no need,¡± the hunter did not lose calmness, ¡°hand me your sword so I can judge you by it.¡±


    The militiaman looked at Ymdaton doubtfully. Crewslayer nodded. Drevlyani warrior unsheathed his blade and gave it to the huntsman. The hunter weighted the blade in his hands and then pointed it at Viroglyad.


    ¡°Defend yourself,¡± said he and made a swing. The militia dodged.


    Paltisumas surged forward, intending to help, but Ymdaton stayed him with a hand.


    ¡°I think, our drevlyani friend can handle it,¡± told he to the crewman.


    Contrary to his small build, the hunter swung the sword without much effort. Viroglyad avoided several more strikes, then catched the next blow between his armguard and his side. Not letting the blade go, he turned, pulling it from hunter¡¯s hands and simultaneously kicked him in the wrist. He threatened the hunter with his regained weapon immediately.


    ¡°Have you made your judgement, forest thief?¡± asked he with a grin.


    ¡°Yes,¡± the hunter turned to Crewslayer, ¡°It looks like you are in charge here. My name is Zvenmir and I will lead you to where the medicine can be gathered. I warn you, however, some of us may not return. The danger is grave.¡±


    ¡°My name is Ymdaton and if you heard about me, than you know how I deal with the forces of the forest. Let us not waste time here.¡±


    Upon hearing these words, the hunter-gatherer rushed to pack up his belongings. The party was ready and set out before the sun reached its zenith.

 Chapter XI: Diving Deep

    The expedition was moving slowly through the forest. Although all four men were mounted, the hunter led them directly into the woods, far from any roads. They were advancing with a deliberate pace, maneuvering around trees, wading through bushes. Dead silence followed the travellers. Ymdaton was not in a talkative mood, much more willing to hear the surroundings, detect a possible attack early.


    ¡°So tell me, why would you choose to live off hunting in a place where a lone trip to the forest is a death sentence,¡± broke the silence Paltisumas.


    Zvenmir turned his head and glanced back at the crewman. His expression was anything but approval. After a moment he looked forward again and stroked the back of his cat which sat in the saddle in front of him. Crewslayer thought that the gatherer was going to ignore the question completely, but after some time he talked.


    ¡°Wealthier men acquire weirder tastes. Some want a wild fruit or a game meat to adorn their feast, some want a coat made of a pelt of a mighty beast, some seek rare curative plants, just as Dragomir does. Whatever grows or runs among the trees will be requested. And since my clients are mostly rich, they pay well.¡±


    ¡°How do you spend all this gold while living in the ditch at the edge of the wood?¡± grinned Viroglyad.


    ¡°That is none of your concern,¡± replied the hunter without any aggression in the voice.


    Soon the greenness became so thick that it was impossible to proceed any further. Upon seeing this, Zvenmir dismounted and unsheathed his weapon. It was a one headed axe without any decoration. Not saying anything, he began cutting down the vegetation. Ymdaton left the saddle too. He glanced at Paltisumas and Viroglyad who were looking confused with their hammer and sword.


    ¡°Our people are not that different, I guess,¡± muttered Crewslayer with a smile and joined the hunter in his task. It took quarter of a day before they left the thicket. Sun was already low , the party decided to camp where they stood and continue at morning.


    The next day of travel was pretty much the same until the treeline began to thin. Shortly after they stepped out of the wood and into the clear space. Ymdaton¡¯s first impression was that they arrived at a glade, but it soon became apparent that the empty patch of the land was relatively narrow, while its length stretched as far as the eye could see.


    ¡°It¡¯s a principal road!,¡± Paltisumas voiced Crewslayer¡¯s thoughts.


    ¡°No man lives this far to the east. Who built it? And where does it lead?¡± wondered Viroglyad.


    ¡°I know no more than you,¡± said the hunter who found puzzled gazes of three warriors locked on him, ¡°I never travelled to the end of this path, and neither will we. It is too dangerous to walk in the open for so long. The forest will notice. Trust me, it is not the most wonderful thing that you will see on this journey.¡±


    Zvenmir did not bother to explain his last words and no one seemed eager to ask. They traveled by the road for three days. While sun was in the sky they rode without rest, during the nights they camped in groves at road¡¯s edges. At the third day Ymdaton began to think that he saw some massive shapes ahead on the horizon, mountains perhaps. He did not have the opportunity to verify his theory, because the hunter soon led the party back into the forest.


    Crewslayer who was still alert, ready to hear sounds of an ambush, started noticing a monotonous noise in the background. It was almost unnoticeable at first, but became louder as they moved forth. In two days the forest suddenly gave way to the flat bank of brownish-red sand. The river of similar colour flew before them.


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    ¡°The river of blood,¡± exhaled Ymdaton amazedly, ¡°I thought this to be but a fairytale.¡±


    ¡°You know this story, despite being an outlander,¡± said Viroglyad with a surprised voice, not turning his eyes from the crimson current.


    ¡°Quite real, it is,¡± uttered Zvenmir, being the only one visibly unmoved by the sight, ¡°and here is your prize,¡± he pointed his arm to the left.


    There by the shore stood trees which bore green leaves still, while the rest of the forest was already red and golden. Men dismounted and headed for the plants, unsheathing knives.


    ¡°Fill your bags quickly and never lose a sight of others, if you want to return,¡± told them the gatherer.


    Ymdaton carved the trunk, gathering pieces of bark into a leather bag. He did not have an utility knife, so he used his trusty sidearm: a dagger with a triangle shaped blade. Time to time he cast glances at his comrades. Soon the bag was full and the warrior walked close to the water, waiting for others. Paltisumas joined him almost instantly, then the hunter. There was no sign of Viroglyad though.


    ¡°I will go find him,¡± finally said Paltisumas. Zvenmir stayed him with hand, then pointed at his cat. The animal was close by, its fur standing on end, back arched, ears turned back. It growled and hissed at the treeline. Suddenly it burst into the action, running into the nearest bushes.


    ¡°Spoosh sees something there,¡± whispered the hunter. It was the first time that Ymdaton heard a note of alarm in his voice.


    ¡°Then we go and fight it,¡± told him Crewslayer, taking out his blade.


    ¡°No we don¡¯t,¡± Zvenmir glared at him, ¡°Your friend is already dead, do you want to join him? Trust the man who walks these lands regularly. I know you have defeated a lord of the green. But here, in the east, lords of lords reside. In open combat we will surely perish.¡±


    The hunter¡¯s rant sounded more like he was pleading Ymdaton not to make a stupid decision. While kinani warriors were deciding on the course of action, the hunter quickly cut three sticks of reed, which grew at the edge of water.


    ¡°Put these into the mouth and submerge into the river. Stems are empty inside, so if only a small part of it stays above the surface, you can breath through it. Be there until I drag you out,¡± said he, giving two of them to crewmen.


    ¡°Are you insane? It is autumn already, the water is pretty cold. We will freeze to death before we can count to hundred,¡± replied Ymdaton.


    ¡°Here in the open we will die before counting to ten,¡± upon saying this, Zvenmir himself submerged first.


    Crewslayer considered tossing the reed away and going after his drevlyani trainee. But then he recalled clearly his first encounter in Odwitchni. He remembered the forest devil rising from the dead to get him, while he was already celebrating the victory. Ymdaton sighed and followed Zvenmir. Paltisumas had no choice but to do the same.


    Indeed, the simple water plant allowed him to breath through his mouth easily. Other than this, there was nothing to be happy about. The river stole the heat out of him rather quickly, soon he started to shake with cold. The current was constantly trying to drag him forth. He dug his finger into the river bed in order to stay in place. He saw and heard nothing from the surface. Whatever hunted them could have stood right above him and Ymdaton would not have noticed.


    After what felt like a whole day a shadow appeared above him and Crewslayer felt a hand at his shoulder. With a single strong move he was sent to his feet.

 Chapter XII: The Glare

    He shook his head to remove water from eyes and ears. Before him was the completely wet hunter.


    ¡°Is it over yet?¡± asked the warrior with a tired voice.


    ¡°Seems so, I did not find your comrade. Did he dive further away?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± answered Ymdaton, feeling the unease rise in his chest, ¡°Right beside me,¡± then he quickly added, ¡°Here, here he is.¡±


    Indeed, Paltisumas appeared from behind the trees. He slowly walked towards them, piercing two men with an unblinking gaze, his face bearing a smile.


    ¡°Do not move,¡± hissed the gatherer.


    Crewslayer did not understand, what the hunter wanted of him. When Paltisumas was five steps away from the water, sand exploded under his right foot, revealing an iron trap. The thing snapped, hitting warrior¡¯s ankle with a sickening sound of shattering bones. Ymdaton expected a scream of pain, an outburst of cursing. Not a sound came.


    Not a muscle flinched on Paltisumas¡¯ body. The crewman did not even lose his smile. He simply glanced at the wounded leg and back at the two in front of him. Crewslayer smoothly raised the shield and the blade, Zvenmir readied his axe.


    Countless battles taught Ymdaton the ways in which the human body works, the limits of it and most common movement sequences. The next action of his former comrade was nothing he could have expected. Paltisumas charged forward with a speed that was not possible for a mortal man, let alone the one with a shattered ankle. In the time barely enough for the pair to move aside, he already was between them.


    Zvenmir made a hasty swing and missed, Ymdaton was bereft of the opportunity to strike, as he blocked a kick with a shield. The impact was powerful enough to throw him backwards. As he flew through air, he saw with horror the thing wearing the face of Paltisumas grab the hunter by the leg and literally swing him over the head. The monster slammed its victim against the ground and it was the last thing Crewslayer saw before falling into the water.


    After some moments he emerged and rushed to the bank. The false crewman was tearing innards out of the fallen hunter¡¯s body. With his bare hands. The thing heard the warrior approaching and turned its head. Ymdaton stopped and assumed a stance. Not-Paltisumas was missing his right eye, black hole of a socket glaring at Crewslayer. The flesh around it was severely decayed. The grin stayed, now displaying pointed predatory fangs instead of human teeth.


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    Ymdaton slowly moved out of the water. As soon as he stepped on the sand, the monster charged again. Now the crewman expected its movements. The thing was fast, yet it attacked in a predictable beastial manner. Crewslayer avoided hands reaching for him and swung his axe. The swing was supposed to be perfect, cutting between the shoulder and the neck.


    Yet as the foe glanced at the blade with its missing eye, the wet handle slipped in Ymdaton¡¯s hands and he missed. The answer was a powerful shove to his gut. Crewslayer was swept from his feet.


    He barely managed to get up when the next attack of the doppelganger came. He tried a different tactic now. When the foe was too close to stop its momentum, he met it with the blade of his axe. Again the monster glanced at the weapon, and with its next step hit a branch which was buried in the sand.


    The other side of the branch was right under Ymdaton¡¯s feet. It rose into air and the warrior was forced to step away, so he won¡¯t tumble. Doing so, he waved his hand and the edge of the axe moved over the attacking thing. As the punishment for the failure came the punch to the ribs. He staggered backwards, yet did not fall this time. Ymdaton¡¯s chest was aflame with pain.


    The false Paltisumas pressed forward. Crewslayer tried to push him back with the shield to the face. While doing so, he tripped over a vine. It left him completely open to the attack. An uprising kick to the jaw sent him to his back. His head ringed, he kept consciousness only by a tremendous effort.


    The monster was upon him in a moment, stomping at the forearm of his right hand, as he tried to swing weapon in defense. The armguard buckled under the pressure. Ymdaton did not even feel pain at that point, he only heard his bones break. The thing raised its arm, intending to deliver a final blow.

 Chapter XIII: Of the Evil Eye

    Ymdaton watched the swing that would finish his life with no more options to stop it.


    Before the monster could complete the move, a small furry beast jumped on its head, emitting angry mewling growls. Crewslayer recognized hunter¡¯s cat. It scratched and bit on monster¡¯s flesh. The false crewman staggered back, trying to get the animal off, yet to no avail. The surprise attack bought enough time for Ymdaton to get up and grab his axe with an unharmed hand.


    He used the distraction to attempt another swing. That one became the first that truly connected, cutting deep into monster¡¯s throat. Although the blow lacked strength to fully sever the head, it separated sinew and scratched against the spinal bones. Crewslayer pulled his weapon back with a feeling of satisfaction, but also a glimpse of understanding. The cat finally jumped off its foe and ran away.


    Ymdaton stood in a battle stance, facing the mutilated doppelganger. It did not fall despite its head hanging awkwardly on a ruined neck. The thing surged forward. Ymdaton sidestepped the last moment, so that the foe sped past him. He cut the enemy at the back of the knee. Again, the blow that the thing did not see worked as intended, thought Crewslayer. The monster tripped, Ymdaton added the kick to the back, so that the foe fell on its face.


    The kinani warrior was upon the pretender in a blink of the eye. He rained blows on the helpless opponent. It tried to shake him off, but the crewman was relentless in his assault. He severed its head properly, then, in few hits, did the same to its arms. He smashed its chest with a butt of the axe, pulverising ribs, spine, and vitals within. He cut off its legs also. He stopped only when his enemy resembled pieces of meat on display in a butcher¡¯s shop. The monster did not move anymore, it looked like Ymdaton inflicted just enough damage.


    Crewslayer limped away and sat in a shade of an evergreen tree. There he finally passed out from exhaustion and injuries.


    When he woke up, the sun was exactly as high as he saw it the last time. He glanced at the corpse. It was badly decomposed.


    ¡°But I couldn¡¯t have slept for so long,¡± rasped Ymdaton.


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    He tried to get up. The first attempt was not successful. His whole body hurt and refused to move properly. With a massive effort he finally managed to stand. Crewslayer caught his breath and then trudged in the direction of the treeline.


    Ymdaton slowly moved through the forest. He remembered the way they came, yet on foot, in his condition the journey back was going to be long. He slept and rested a lot, hiding in the bushes or hollow trees. The warrior fed on vegetation: forest berries, roots, since he was not able to hunt. He fought headaches, pain in the body, nausea, dizziness.


    At some point a thought began to haunt him: what became of their bakhmats. It crawled through his weary mind, demanding attention. How did beasts manage to escape ties with which they were hobbled. Did they run far away, or would he be able to find one and ride it back to Khladnetz? Soon he could not think of anything else.


    As if to answer Ymdaton¡¯s question, a scared steed dashed past him. It carried a battered saddle. Crewslayer turned to see what frightened the animal. At first he saw nothing, but then noticed a looming shade moving between the trees. He tried to quicken his pace. The warrior understood that he was not in a shape to fight whatever could emerge.


    He limped and staggered forward as fast as he could manage. The sounds of the movement behind were only getting closer with the time. Finally he accepted the fact that he would not be able to get away. Crewslayer grabbed tightly the axe in his left hand and turned around, intending to hold his ground. No signs of the pursuer could be seen. Next moment from behind a large oak stepped an immense beast.


    It looked ferocious: as large as a cart, with thick dirty brown fur, hunched back, and small curved horns. It was a forest bull, old and exceptionally massive. The beast turned its head to the side. Half of its snout was decayed, a dark empty eye socket glaring at the warrior.


    A laugh almost escaped Ymaton¡¯s chest. Was this the way it ends, wondered he? Alone in the forest, broken, exhausted in an unsung hopeless battle against a vengeful shapeshifting monster. The beast pawed the ground with a hoof. Crewslayer braced himself for the charge.

 Chapter XIV: Looping

    The possessed bull was ready to charge any moment. It would cover the distance in a matter of moments and crush Ymdaton, who was too weak to run or defend himself.


    An unexpected movement close by distracted both the man and the thing. A heavy spear flew through the air and struck the animal in the side. The doppelganger turned its head right and left furiously, looking for the enemy. Without making it wait, the attacker rode from the woods on an enormous bakhmat. The steed was at least a time and a half larger than an average one. The warrior in dreavlyani armour riding upon it was similarly of an imposing build.


    He halted right between Crewslayer and the false bull, dismounting and unsheathing a long straight sword. He held the blade in one arm, although the size of it was more fitting for a two-hander. On his back was strapped a tear shaped shield size of a door with an image of a mountain painted upon it. The newcomer stood still as if daring the beast to attack.


    The thing did not hesitate a bit. Its head lowered, the animal charged, sending large chunks of soil and grass flying from under its hooves. The unknown warrior did not move a step. With a held breath Ymdaton waited for him to be smashed aside.


    Instead, when the shapeshifter was at hand¡¯s breadth, the man grabbed it by the horn with a free palm and bent its head to the ground with a single powerful motion.The monster struggled to get free, kicked at the ground with all four feet, rocked with its whole body, yet the warrior¡¯s grip was unbreakable. He lifted the sword and pierced beast¡¯s cranium right through the hollow eye. The giant twisted the blade several times and then pulled it out. The bull was not moving anymore.


    The warrior cleaned his weapon against victim¡¯s fur, put it back into the scabbard and mounted again. Crewslayer called out, but the man either did not hear or simply ignored him. He rode away as quickly as he appeared, never even turning his face to Ymdaton. Crewslayer felt his breath getting heavy. He leaned on a closest tree. In several heartbeats his sight darkened and the warrior lost track of the world around him.


    He was brought back by the feeling of wetness and scratching on his face. Crewslayer opened his eyes to see himself lying on the grass. Beside him was standing a bakhmat, the one that tried to escaped from the shapeshifter earlier. The animal pocked Ymaton with its snout, urging him to wake up. Grabbing the steed by the fur and the tack, with a massive effort he managed to stand up. The beast waited patiently, allowing him to take his time. While catching his breath, the warrior glanced at where he remembered the doppelganger fell. Again, only a rotten carcass remained here.


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    Ymdaton gathered his strength and mounted bakhmat. He strapped the reins to his belt, in case he lost consciousness. It was a wise decision, for before the steed carried him even half a league, he passed out again.


    When the light returned, the first thing he saw was Dragomir¡¯s concerned face. Ymdaton looked around. He was in the bed in his personal chambers, in the merchant¡¯s house, back at Khladnetz, bandaged all over.


    ¡°This is a dream, isn¡¯t it?¡± sighed he.


    The trader did not answer, but simply patted Crewslayer¡¯s arm. The warrior flinched in pain.


    ¡°You should be thankful to bakhmat handlers,¡± said Dragomir, ¡°the beasts are trained to return home no matter from where and how long it could take.¡±


    ¡°What about the medicine?¡± asked the warrior quietly, ¡°in all that excitement I kind of lost track of it.¡±


    ¡°You had a sack of a tree bark with you,¡± told the merchant, ¡°it was more than enough to cure my son. He is feeling much better now. I will be eternally grateful to you.¡±


    Ymdaton closed his eyes. A peaceful smile appeared on his face.


    ¡°Now if there was someone left alive to be rewarded,¡± said Dragomir with unclear notes in his voice.


    There should have been a feeling of sadness, thought Crewslayer. Three good men died in the hopeless confrontation. But the sheer joy of being alive despite all the chances was stronger. Besides, his noble mission was complete, the child saved, so they did not perish in vain.


    ¡°Will I do?¡± asked he.


    ¡°Rest well and rebuild your health, warrior. For you would not even lift a sack of gold which I have prepared for you in your current condition,¡± answered the merchant with a laugh and left the room.

 Interlude II: A Glimpse of Greatness

    Old Yehoum¡¯s garden was a cozy place. Dwarf trees and trimmed bushes grew at the sides of narrow stone paved walkways. In its heart resided a disturbance. The disturbance was visual: a round empty area twenty steps across carpeted with sand, looking as a wound amongst the green grass. It was audible: clashing weapons, grunts, heavy breathing carving through the silence of the yard. The disturbance was human in nature: ten boys sparring in pairs, swinging wooden axes, covering with wooden shields.


    Yehoum himself was stepping slowly among them, observing. He was bent by age and shrivelled, with one eye turned white by blindness, and little of hair left upon his head. Yet his movements displayed sharpness of a seasoned warrior. He remembered the blade art well. He already taught his students a lot, now they were to display the fruits of their training.


    Ymdaton was trying to outwit his opponent desperately from the beginning of the duel. The boy his was put against, Sysbir, did not seem to fall for any of his feints. Every swing met a perfect parry, every counterattack met an inevitable block. For so many moons that Ymdaton struggled, honing his skills, there was still someone evenly matched with him.


    He performed a risky move. When making a swing at the opponent¡¯s neck, he pretended to misplace it, striking too far forward. At the same time his side was open, the shield turned slightly to the left. The foe did not hesitate to exploit his weakness.


    Before the enemy could land a hit, Ymdaton pulled back his blade, hooking boy¡¯s neck on the way. Sysbir¡¯s head was tossed forward, hitting his nose against the edge of his own shield. The opponent became dizzy. Ymdaton seized his opportunity, making a powerful swing at partner¡¯s face, venting all his frustration. Had not teacher¡¯s hand stopped his axe by the haft midair, he would have messed the boy¡¯s visage even further.


    ¡°That is enough,¡± said the old man, ¡°You have fought well. You will not prove yourself by mutilating your comrades.¡±


    As the evening descended upon Isary, boys were returning to their homes. They were walking on the street named Fulfilment Road, where their teacher lived. The avenue was special in a sense, for it was situated outside the city walls. Warriors of poor families who acquired wealth in the battles built their mansions there, since getting the land inside the city proper was nigh impossible for all but the richest men.


    Sometimes in the future a second line of fortifications was going to encase Fulfilment Road, but at the moment it would be a waste to protect only several dozen houses. The street started at the western city gates and ended in the open wilderness.


    The exterior of the houses was talking loud about their inhabitants. Walls and fences were adorned in a barbaric manner: there hung trophy shields, weapons, banners, pieces of armour, sometimes even skulls. That kind of decorations was undoubtedly vulgar, yet for teenage boys who were aspiring to become warriors it was a pinnacle of awesomeness. Every time that they passed spoils of war on display, boys began to discuss them with passion. Every time they were finding something unnoticed before.


    ¡°Look there!,¡± pointed one of young trainees, ¡°Do you see the jaw of a sea demon on that wall? It is the house of Barekdahy. I¡¯ve heard that once he and his crew were escorting a trade expedition when corsairs attacked. They were outnumbered so that their ship could not maneuver in time to help merchants who were being boarded. So Barekdahy jumped in the water, swam in full armour to the attacked vessel, climbed on it and stood there on a boarding plank repelling the onslaught single-handedly until reinforcements came.¡±


    ¡°But have you heard the latest story?¡± cut him off another boy, ¡°During the battle at Perusna tyrsenoi champion known as Hylalryk delivered a great punishment upon forces of Isary. He was a giant of a man and no one could escape his six cubit long spear. King¡¯s crewman Adonisum engaged the foe in a grueling duel. When Hylalryk tried to poke him over a fence, Adonisum grabbed it and forced down, sending the enemy flying into the air. That was the end of tyrsenoi warrior, since in his confusion Adonisum slain him.¡±


    ¡°I know this story,¡± said Ymdaton with upbeat notes in his voice, ¡°It happened just two moons ago. But you have confused names, because it was my father who slain Hylalryk.¡±


    ¡°Then your father is a cheat and a liar just like you, daring to claim other¡¯s deeds to be his,¡± said Sysbir.


    Ymdaton¡¯s elbow connected with the back of his head before Sysbir could understand what happened. They boy spent several moments regaining orientation before looking at the furious attacker towering over him. Others were simply standing dumbstruck.


    ¡°You see,¡± coughed Sysbir, ¡°He does not fight fair. Let¡¯s teach him a lesson, guys!¡±


    What was going to happen next became clear to Ymdaton. He decided to act first and suddenly turned, knocking out the closest boy with a fist to the chin. He ducked low and hurled his whole body at the legs of the next attacker. The trainee tumbled down, Ymdaton gave him a kick in the ribs as he jumped upwards again.


    He managed to sidestep the next one and deliver an elbow to the temple. There was a boy called Urandahy in the group. He was a year older than Ymdaton, a head taller than him, and more than twenty pounds heavier. Too late Ymdaton did understand the crucial mistake of forgetting about that fellow.


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    Urandahy grasped him from behind around the chest, then simply lifted him and tossed to the side. Ymdaton¡¯s short flight was stopped by the nearest fence. The impact did hurt a lot. He fell down on his right side and in this very moment everyone was upon him. He tried to block kicks as quick as he could, yet the onslaught was too intense.


    A sudden yell from the other side of the street made boys cease their attack and run off. Ymdaton got up and saw a tall grizzled man approaching. Strangers nose looked as if it was broken more than once.


    ¡°How did you upset them so much?¡± asked the stranger with a dry smile.


    ¡°None of your business,¡± spat Ymdaton, while shaking off the dirt from his tunic. He instantly felt guilty and added, ¡°Thank you.¡±


    He then ran off without waiting for the man to say anything more.


    Ymdaton did not hurry to get home. He wandered the city in its general direction, being gnawed upon by various unpleasant thoughts. At the crossroads of the Royal Street, which led to the residence of the king, and Trader¡¯s Row an unusual sight caught his unfocused attention. He certainly did not remember a pile of rubble in the middle of the crossing. Upon the broken stones stood a half of a broken statue. After examining it closer, the boy realised he was mistaken.


    Armoured legs and the pelvis made of bronze were not remnants, but rather a monument under construction. The body above was only suggested by a skeleton of metal rods which reached almost forty five cubits of height. A feeling of awe grew in Ymdaton¡¯s heart. Despite the statue being incomplete, its present parts made his mind draw a clear image of what it was going to be: a warrior with a blade raised high in salute, victorious, dynamic, powerful, majestic.


    ¡°Wonderful, isn¡¯t it? He is not yet revealed to the world, but his power could be felt already,¡± heard he a voice to the left.


    He turned his head to see an old man with long whiskers, standing nearby with his hands behind his back.


    ¡°Who is it?¡± asked Ymdaton, returning his gaze to the statue.


    ¡°It is a monument to celebrate the victory of Isary over Perusna. Trophy tyrsenoi arms were melted down to produce this bronze. It will be an image of Sumiaton, the servant of house Abeneewy. He was the one who breached the walls,¡± explained the old one with a passion.


    ¡°You seem to know much about it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve sculpted it. My name is Umilles,¡± said the man.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard about you,¡± the boy looked at him with respect, ¡°You¡¯ve created statues in temples of Mahandahy and Nisirask.¡±


    Umilles nodded.


    ¡°But what with this rubble?¡± asked Ymdaton.


    The man¡¯s face displayed an expression between annoyance and disappointment. He quickly got hold of himself and smiled.


    ¡°It is not a rubble. That is the postament that I¡¯ve designed for the statue. It symbolizes the defences that mighty Sumiaton broke.¡±


    The boy looked at the statue for some more moments, then bid farewell to the sculptor and left, to avoid awkward silence.


    As Ymdaton returned home, he was met by an old maid.


    ¡°Your father awaits you at the backyard, young master,¡± said the woman.


    Without changing clothes or washing the street dirt, the boy followed the request. He found his father hammering at the wooden life-size figure of a man with a weapon made similarly of wood. It was a common exercise, Ymdaton himself did it many times. One was supposed to hit the dummy a thousand times to complete it. Hamysbir noticed him instantly.


    ¡°What happened?¡± asked the man, glancing at many bruises and grazes blemishing boy¡¯s body.


    ¡°I climbed the tree, trying to catch a squirrel. Stepped on a weak branch and, well...¡±


    His father was silent for some moments.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± said he finally, ¡°How was your mathematics class today?¡±


    ¡°Kind of boring, as always. I did well though,¡± answered the son with a caution. He suspected that the father knew something.


    ¡°That is interesting, because I¡¯ve visited master Sikarhy today and he told me that he saw you two moons ago for the last time. I also know that you are visiting Yehoum, taking the lessons of blade art. Did not I forbid it?¡±


    ¡°You did,¡± mumbled the boy, looking at his feet.


    ¡°The old fool only accepts you without payment because he taught me before. He thinks that he is doing me a favor. I will repeat myself again. I order you to never again come to his place and take a weapon in your hands. Study disciplines which will teach you to think and make a coin. Swinging an axe will not get you far,¡± the man¡¯s intonation became harsh and allowed no protest.


    This indisputable manner raised a fire in boy¡¯s heart. He felt a sudden urge to cry out, to oppose father¡¯s decision.


    ¡°Oh and why so?,¡± shouted he in a cracking voice, ¡°Because you know that I am more talented warrior than you ever were? Because you fear that I will perform real deeds of valor and ascend into songs, unlike you?¡±


    He spewed his defiance and expected an instant retaliation. It did not come: no hits, no yells, no insults, no persuasions. His father simply stood there and looked at him with a slight disappointment in his eyes, not saying a word. For Ymdaton that silence was more of a pressure than any action. His resolve broke and he fled into the house, hiding in his room.


    On that warm evening coldness thrived between the father and the son, to persist for years onwards.

 Chapter XV: Chilling News

    Two warriors clashed, the noise of colliding weapons ringing through the cold air. They circled each other, maneuvered, surged forward, kicking the snow from under their feet with remarkable fervor. When both were on the move, it looked as if they were surrounded by a miniature blizzard.


    Ymdaton struggled. He was dragged down by many things: his weakened body, his equipment, but, mostly, by his opponent. Abimnupal was an outstanding warrior, equal to Crewslayer, if not better. He saw Ymdaton in battle before, he understood opponent¡¯s style, habits, weaknesses. Crewslayer tried several approaches during their confrontation, yet none were successful this far. His comrade was always finding a countermeasure, always pushing him back, always forcing him into defence.


    He tried another trick. After letting the adversary to make an advancing attack, he shoved Abimnupal back with a knee to the shield. Surprisingly, the opponent stumbled. Crewslayer expected a feint, so when the other man made an uprising attack with a buckler, he was just far enough to avoid it.


    Too late he noticed that the force of a move was not focused on the shield, which hung freely on leather straps around Abimnupal¡¯s forearm. The opponent was grasping a snowball in his fist. His comrade released it as soon as it became visible to Ymdaton. Crewslayer raised arms to block it, following reflexes. Yet his muscles were still sluggish, not quite fast enough to keep up with his perception.


    The small projectile hit him square in the nose. It was not that painful, yet distractive enough to make him blink. When he opened his eyes next moment, Abimnupal was right at him, his axe¡¯s edge pointed at Ymdaton¡¯s neck.


    ¡°You are dead,¡± informed he in a most dispassionate tone.


    Panting heavily, Ymdaton dropped his axe and shield.


    ¡°Three moons in the bed, almost without movement were not beneficial. You would have destroyed me during your better days. I told you from the beginning that expedition was a bad idea,¡± told him Abimnupal and then added, ¡°We should spar more.¡±


    ¡°You are not really subtle with your motivational speeches,¡± shrugged Ymdaton, ¡°I am weak though, you¡¯re right. For once, I need a break now, I¡¯m out of my breath. Don¡¯t remember that happening to me before.¡±


    ¡°Honoured warriors,¡± a voice from behind cut them off. Crewslayer turned to see Dragomir stepping from the house into the courtyard. He eyed the light leather clothing of kinani men, ¡°Don¡¯t you feel cold?¡± asked he and wrapped himself even deeper into his fur coat.


    ¡°On the contrary, looks like it is too hot for him,¡± pointed Abimnupal at Ymdaton and mocked his heavy breathing. His friend made a sour grimace.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± smiled the merchant, ¡°A messenger from the knez came to inform me of a council meeting today. I am invited to attend it, alongside members of High Crew that are lodging in my house.¡±


    ¡°Did not bother to mention me by name,¡± shook his head Ymdaton.


    ¡°I will go prepare myself for the event, so that I look somewhat civilized,¡± told Abimnupal.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s even possible for you,¡± said Ymdaton with a grin. When his comrade turned towards the house, Crewslayer made a gesture to the merchant, asking him to stay.


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    ¡°I have a question,¡± uttered he, when Abimnupal left. His face instantly became dead serious.


    ¡°Speak,¡± answered Dragomir with an interest written in his eyes.


    ¡°You travelled a lot, saw a lot of cities, a lot of warriors,¡± the kinani man paused, ¡°Have you ever seen an emblem of a single mountain upon the shield.¡±


    The trader was silent, bearing a thoughtful expression for some time.


    ¡°I saw quite a lot of warriors, that is right,¡± finally said he, ¡°yet no militiaman or mercenary that I can remember bore such an image.¡±


    ¡°Thought so,¡± nodded Ymdaton.


    ¡°Where did you see it?¡± asked the merchant.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter,¡± shook his head the warrior, ¡°I just can¡¯t tell anymore what really happened in the eastern groves from what I saw in my fever dreams,¡± he headed for the door, ¡°I¡¯ll go prepare myself as well.¡±


    Dragomir did not ask him anything else.


    The meeting was held in the same immense building as before. Weak winter sun barely squeezed its light through many windows of the house. It was noisy inside. Many walks of life gathered there: distinguished crewmen, militiamen of renown, Azytenisar¡¯s court, the city council. Men were idly chatting, arguing, laughing even. The lord of Abeneewy himself was sitting on his throne, discussing something with Lulaton in low whispers.


    Head of the council Tridum stepped into the middle of the hall and hit the floor with a butt of his stuff. The impact was loud and ringing. Everyone¡¯s attention instantly switched to the old man.


    ¡°Let there be silence!¡± his voice was surprisingly powerful, ¡°We came here to present the most urgent matters before our lord, Master of the Lands among the Sea and among the Forest, Lord of the House and the City, Knez of Khaldnetz Azytenisar. Let us hear the initiator of the gathering.¡±


    Forward stepped the old grizzled drevlyani warrior.


    ¡°Look at him,¡± hissed Hasdruhy at Ymdaton¡¯s side, ¡°He calls himself ¡®the elected commander¡¯, when a crewman commands any squad stronger than ten people.¡±


    ¡°True,¡± nodded Abimnupal, ¡°Our lord should dismantle this title altogether. Master over the house is master over warriors. There is no other way.¡±


    Ymdaton simply shrugged his shoulders.


    ¡°You are quite simple,¡± came Azandahy¡¯s voice somewhere from behind, ¡°Lord Azytenisar honours local traditions. That is why forest dwellers love him. You sound like you want us to be shoved outside the walls by angry townsmen.¡±


    ¡°Greetings, men of Khladnetz, greetings, men of the islands, greetings, o mighty knez,¡± began Likhobor, the elected commander of militia, ¡°It is true that I have requested this meeting. I will not be going circles around my case,¡± he paused, his face brightened with inspiration, ¡°Our case. So, the point is: drevlyani cities, major and minor, have formed a league and are currently plotting to make war with us,¡± the crowd exhausted an avalanche of protesting and surprised utterings.


    The commander did not seem to notice and concluded his speech anyway, ¡°Supposedly, the attack will come this spring.¡±

 Chapter XVI: Gold or Blood

    Looking around him, Crewslayer noticed, that the disturbance was present mostly among locals and kinani civilians. Crewmen were quite composed. Azytenisar himself showed absolutely no emotion upon hearing the news, waiting for explanation, apparently. Tridum was pummeling the wooden floor vigorously in attempts of restoring order in the hall.


    When the mumbling finally subsided, Sumiaton raised a hand with spread fingers and made a step forward from the crowd.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to hear, or, better yet, see some proofs,¡± said he without waiting for a formal permission to talk, ¡°We are reforming your armed forces, bolstering your fortifications, redesigning your logistics. You were pretty incompetent before we, kinani, came. I would like to face facts and not your words.¡±


    Likhobor¡¯s face became reddish with anger, his many white scars striking a stark contrast to it. Ymdaton thought that he would explode with a stream of retorts, yet the militiaman breathed heavily several times, then answering in a calm voice.


    ¡°I have the word of man who is used to step in many places. That is my proof,¡± he turned his head to the group of drevlyani men unmarked by ranks, yet eminent for their wealth.


    ¡°Let the one whom the commander requests speak,¡± announced Tridum in a sing-song voice.


    The man who stepped forward made Ymdaton raise a brow. It was none other than Dragomir.


    ¡°Greetings, o distinguished men, o mighty knez. My name is Dragomir, son of Boleslav. My trade is simple. I am the seller of things. I travel a lot through Odwitchni, visiting many cities. I¡¯ve began experiencing a disturbing tendency recently. One by one, neighboring towns ceased established trading links. I am facing the refusal of my old partners. At first it was only the lesser settlements: Kriva Bashta, Povorotitch, Stotsviet. But at the moment, even major cities are not exchanging goods with us. I am not the only victim of this, other merchants of Khladnetz are also suffering.¡±


    Whispers of agreement could be heard through the crowd.


    ¡°That is not all,¡± continued the commander as Dragomir finished, ¡°I did speak with hunters in our city. Our neighbours may refuse traders, yet the custom forbids to deny the passing hunter-gatherer hospitality. Some were received as guests in Velmytop. Some have seen troops from Ovrajin and Belosten there.¡±


    ¡°That goes against every tradition of yours that we saw thus far,¡± interrupted again Sumiaton, ¡°All-out war? Massive kinslaying? Subtle tactics? What in the sea could have nourished such ideas in heads of dreavlyani.¡±


    Ymdaton saw Azytenisar eyeing the venator, displeasure clearly written on his face. The lord did not say anything, while the hunter did not seem to pay attention.


    ¡°There is one such thing,¡± spoke the head of the council. Everyone have gone silent instantly, despite the hall being filled with whispers just a moment ago. Ymdaton wondered, if old man¡¯s decision to speak was such a big deal.


    ¡°There is but one such thing,¡± Tridum repeated himself, his tone was solemn, ¡°You¡¯ve never met the protector. Believe me, knowing of their kind only by the tales does these creatures no justice. It understands the nature and thoughts of men, it can bend their will in a way that they would not even notice. If the guardian wills Khladnetz to be razed, people under its protection will gladly do so.¡±


    Uneasy silence hung in the building.


    ¡°You bring up shady matters of spirits and powers from beyond,¡± broke it with a laugh Sumiaton,¡± Those have no meaning in the war. The war is real. It is made of flesh and metal. Bring me some real arguments, or don¡¯t tire your tongue.¡±


    ¡°That is enough,¡± raised his voice Azytenisar, ¡°For all my respect towards you, that is enough mockery for one day. Behave yourself. It is an order from your lord.¡±


    The Venator stared at the knez for some moments. Lord of Abeneewy did the same. Sumiaton averted his gaze first, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh.


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    ¡°I obey my lord,¡± uttered he, ¡°Can I present my own matter before the meeting, o council head?¡± added he with a sly glance towards the old man.


    ¡°That is why we gathered here. If knez allows it, you may speak,¡± Tridum looked at Azytenisar, who nodded, ¡°You may speak.¡±


    Sumiaton cleared his throat in quite a theatrical manner.


    ¡°I am not the one who will tell you, though. You will hear of it first hand.¡±


    A man stepped out of the Khladnetz council. It was the second time that Ymdaton lifted his brow today. This man was Blagoslav, the translator and the ambassador.


    ¡°Greetings, o distinguished men, o mighty knez. I am Blagoslav, born of Stodmuj, sworn to Khladnetz. I was entrusted by our master with caravans which, as you may know, venture back and forth between our city and Moriegrad,¡± the translator was speaking a bit nervously, glancing at Azytenisar then and now, ¡° exchanging gold that is mined here for the foreign silver.¡±


    ¡°Wait up,¡± whispered Hasdruhy, ¡°so he transports sacks of gold over the lake, through the settlements of land crawlers. What stops them from demanding a share? Say, a half of the baggage or the caravan does not pass?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, answered Ymdaton with a grin, ¡°They know that we burn down cities of those who wronged us.¡±


    ¡°For the last four month we have lost eight sacks of gold and over twenty good men who were guarding it,¡± continued Blagoslav.


    ¡°Perhaps, nothing,¡± muttered Ymdaton to his comrade.


    ¡°We did not lose those things to men. Among men the fame of mighty knez allows us to walk unhindered,¡± said the interpreter and paused, ¡°The forest, however. It acknowledges no authority. Flesh eating monsters and evil spirits attack our expeditions constantly. For all the valor of their protectors, the numbers of the caravan guard are not enough.¡±


    ¡°You see, here is the real problem,¡± spoke Sumiaton as soon as the translator finished, ¡°The gold from the mines that I¡¯ve secured,¡± he circled the crowd with a glance, ¡°is vital to the prosperity of Khladnetz.¡±


    Ymdaton flinched upon hearing the statement.


    ¡°Silver costs much more here, than at the seashore. By trading gold for it we multiply the treasury. That wealth than can be used to win whatever war you saw coming, real or not,¡± the venator eyed Likhobor, ¡°And if your theoretical attack of the neighbors never comes, we still can lose our most valuable source of income. That is where the city needs its troops to be used, not sitting behind the walls and waiting for a siege that won¡¯t be commenced.¡±


    ¡°And what if it still comes, while our forces are away?,¡± retorted the commander angrily, ¡°How is your gold going to help us then?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard enough,¡± Azytenisar¡¯s voice rolled through the hall. He rose from his throne and swept the audience with heavy gaze, ¡°Now heed me. There is no ¡®ours¡¯ or  ¡®yours¡¯, my friends. Khladnetz is one and only. Whatever happens to it is the concern of everyone who have gathered here today. My concern, first of all, for I was trusted with ruling by the people.¡±


    The crowd fell silent. Whatever squabbles they had just a moment before, were forgotten the moment the knez began speaking.


    ¡°It is true that our trading links with Qyris are most valuable. They are to be protected. However, I do not believe that such well known and respected men as Likhobor and Dragomir would rise alarm over nothing. The war is the worst danger possible. We can not afford to dismiss the possibility, however small it is. So here are my orders. Honoured Sumiaton will be given the command of five crews. Not full kinani crews though. At least four fifths are to be recruited from local populace. All other armed forces are to be in one day of travel from Khladnetz. That is it for now. The meeting is over.¡±

 Chapter XVII: Games

    Ymdaton left the building alongside the crowd. He stopped on the outside and looked across the snowy plaza. Men were walking past him, but Crewslayer did not pay attention. He glared at the massive building with three walls that stood on the other side of the square. Some argued that it should have been wiped from the face of the city. Azytenisar forbidden it. It is impossible to build dominion by erasing the past, he said.


    It was a place where once rested the creature called the protector. What kind of being was it, wondered Ymdaton. Long since gone, it still did strike fear into the hearts of men by very memories of itself. Could it be defeated by blade? Could it be defeated at all? To slay such a thing would have been a sure way to become immortal in songs.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you coming back to our lodging?¡± Abimnupal dragged him out of his thoughts.


    ¡°I want to take a walk,¡± made a forced smile Crewslayer, ¡°To work on my stamina, you know.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± laughed his comrade and slapped him on the shoulder, ¡°Later, then.¡±


    Ymdaton did just as he said. He wandered the streets of Khladnetz aimlessly for awhile. At some point he encountered a group of boys playing. Half of them were hiding behind a wall built of snow. The other half was trying to suppress the defenders with snowballs so that they could proceed with a siege. Crewslayer recalled his defeat in the morning and grimaced. Next moment he saw a familiar face among the attackers. He stopped the boy with a gesture.


    ¡°You,¡± said he to the boy who was obviously unhappy with being distracted from the game, ¡°You are a bakhmat herder¡¯s son, aren¡¯t you? You have two brothers, your mother and father moved into the city this fall.¡±


    ¡°Yep,¡± answered the boy, glancing at the battle nervously.


    ¡°Wish your mom well. Say the warrior remembers her fairytale,¡± upon saying this Ymdaton quickly made a snowball and launched it at one of the defenders, knocking him from his feet. The boy nodded and with a laugh ran back to the wall.


    ¡°Training for war, are we?¡± heard Ymdaton a chuckle from behind. He turned to see the face like that of a pigeon.


    ¡°Now what do you want? Were you following me?¡±


    ¡°Not without a purpose, mind you,¡± smiled Azandahy in a surprisingly sincere way, ¡°Let¡¯s continue your walk together.¡±


    Ymdaton moved, giving his silent agreement.


    ¡°I came to tell you something. Tomorrow you will be approached by a man loyal to Sumiaton,¡± Ymdaton noticed that the warrior squinted his eyes in displeasure upon saying the name, ¡°Someone whom you probably know already. He will ask you to join hunter¡¯s efforts at the lake road. Do refuse. I talked to old Lulaton after the meeting. Seek him first and hear what he has to say before agreeing to anything.¡±


    ¡°You are not the strong supporter of the venator, are you?¡± asked Ymdaton in the especially serious tone.


    ¡°Neither are you,¡± answered Azandahy, ignoring the sarcasm, ¡°I saw the look on your face when he bragged about gold mines.¡±


    ¡°I felt wronged when my dirty part in the matter was not mentioned,¡± sighed Ymdaton, ¡°But what is your issue?¡±


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    ¡°I believe that there should be but one authority above us: lord of the house. We acquire glory for Abeneewy and through it gain the glory for ourselves,¡± Azandahy looked Crewslayer straight in the eyes searching for reaction. Ymdaton shown none.


    The man continued, ¡°He lives the other way. He surrounded himself with a clique. With those who will do his bidding before Azytenisar¡¯s. With their help he builds the fame of his own, shoving it into the faces of others at every step. No matter how successful he is, it still smacks of insubordination to me. And I¡¯d rather have you as a subordinate to true lord.¡±


    ¡°I got you, but why do you care that much about me all of a sudden,¡± shrugged his shoulders Ymdaton, ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t like.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous,¡± said Azandahy, ¡°I may dislike you. You are uncooperative, selfish, rash, but you are still a phenomenal warrior. You¡¯ve broke champions and monsters of this land many times already. We need men like you in service to Azytenisar, not running errands for the venator.¡±


    Ymdaton was silent.


    ¡°Well then, I have business elsewhere,¡± added the crewman, ¡°Remember, meet Lulaton tomorrow. I hope you will make the right decision,¡± he made a spread fingers gesture and left.


    Next day Crewslayer followed the advice. He left Dragomir¡¯s house early and headed for Lulaton¡¯s lodging. Just at the end of the street he met Ahyq.


    ¡°Greetings, friend,¡± said the warrior with a smile, ¡°Where did you go yesterday just after the meeting? I wanted to talk to you, yet you did not return to merchant¡¯s house.¡±


    ¡°I was busy,¡± answered Ymdaton, carefully choosing words, ¡°Just as I am now. So be quick about your matter, please.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Ahyq made a curious face, ¡°I¡¯ll cut it straight then. Will you join venator¡¯s efforts at the lake road?¡±


    ¡°What can I say,¡± Crewslayer paused for quite some time, ¡°I believe in the possibility of war much more than he does. I am intending to apply my efforts elsewhere.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure? I thought you were quite good at subduing forces of the forest. We will need men like you there. Fame will be won there.¡±


    ¡°Fame is not always the only measure,¡± said Ymdaton, turning his gaze aside, ¡°Now excuse me, I am in a hurry.¡±


    As Ymdaton left, Ahyq did not try to stop him, only glared at his back with interest.


    Lulaton was given a honour to live beside knez, in a four storey high building in the center of the city, painted and adorned with carvings. Ymdaton was led by serfs to the room at the third floor, where the old one was said to be residing.


    He was met by a man dressed in a dark red tunic, atop of it he was clad in a purple mantle with golden geometrical pattern at its edges. On man¡¯s head was a conical hat, the top of which was pulled forward slightly. His wrists were adorned with many thin golden bracers. His beard was of dirty blonde colour.


    ¡°Good day,¡± the man greeted Crewslayer with heavy accent, spreading his arms in a welcoming gesture.


    ¡°Explain what are you doing here in three breathes, or I will gut you, tyrsenoi scum,¡± said Ymdaton in a low voice.

 Chapter XVIII: A Hidden Face

    ¡°Oh my,¡± laughed the man, his accent gone fully, ¡°My disguise works too well.¡±


    Crewslayer examined the stranger closely.


    ¡°Lulaton?¡± he chuckled, ¡°You¡¯ve even colored your facial hair.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m going under deep cover,¡± said the old man, taking off his hat and putting it on the table, ¡°And I expect you to help me. I¡¯m going to visit Velmytop and see for myself if the war is really coming. Since no one is fond of kinani guests there, I¡¯m putting on another face.¡±


    ¡°Who would believe that tyrsenoi merchant have traversed that far through the cities controlled by our kind,¡± asked Ymdaton confusedly.


    ¡°Most of locals, trust me,¡± answered Lulaton with a grin, ¡°Don¡¯t you know that the hatred for tyrsenoi is not a common trait among kinani. No one likes them, true, since they are our rivals at the sea. But only people of Isary would spill their blood with such pleasure. Because our island was raided for generations by tyrsenoi, we possess such a deeply rooted loathing of them. Other city states do trade with their kind often and tyrsenoi merchants are not an uncommon sight in Qyris. Drevlyani do not know of our blood feud, that is why I am visiting them as a trader of different nation, not interested in local squabbles. That¡¯s a perfect disguise.¡±


    ¡°I am willing to help you, if you answer but one my question,¡± said Ymdaton after the old man finished his speech.


    ¡°Do speak.¡±


    ¡°You sent Azandahy to invite me, to persuade me to assist you instead of the hunter. I heard Sumiaton telling unpleasant things about you. That you are a cunning and dangerous man,¡± he paused and looked Lulaton in the eye, ¡°And he is probably right. However, I want to hear your opinion on him. Why should I support you over the acknowledged hero?¡±


    ¡°Tell me,¡± sighed the old man, ¡°Have you ever observed something suspicious about him?¡±


    ¡°I,¡± Ymdaton skimmed through his memories, ¡°I saw him talk the warlord into forfeiting the gold mine. That very gold mine that he bragged about yesterday.¡±


    ¡°Did you hear what words exactly he used?¡±


    ¡°No, they talked in private. Zasedany, a drevlyani practice of negotiation, you know¡­¡±


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    ¡°I know how it works,¡± cut him off Lulaton, ¡°And here is my problem with Sumiaton. You see, once he came to Azytenisar¡¯s father and talked with him in private. He was but an eighteen year old back then, unknown, unproven. Yet the old lord of Abeneewy gave him six warships with full crews and sent him to defeat a sea monster. No one knows what the hunter told him, not even I.


    Weeks later Sumiaton sailed to Isary heavily wounded, on a piece of wreckage, the last remnant of his armada. He never told what happened, except that he has slain the beast. It is true, that he had a proof with him: the torn eye of the thing. It is also true that the attacks on our ships ceased since then. But did he truly defeat it by himself? How the ships were destroyed? How all his men died?


    Later, the father of Azytenisar came to king of Isary and pleaded to entrust Sumiaton with the siege of Perusna. The man was not known for anything besides a single monster hunt. He certainly was not a known siege engineer. Yet the old lord told something to king that made him agree. It is true that the venator succeeded with his brilliant wall breaking machines. It is rarely spoken of how many lives of Isary warriors he spent that day.


    And in that manner the story of Sumiaton continues. It is undeniable that he achieved much and his skills are proven. However, his rise to the top was always secured by shady deals. I was never able to unveil his secrets. I suspect that lord Azytenisar knows more than I, yet he refuses to talk about the hunter altogether. I do not trust him. He is ruthless in his quest for glory, ready to sacrifice anything. Agendas that brought him into his current position are unclear, and agendas which he follows currently are even more clouded.


    Have I satisfied you with my answer?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that is basically what I thought myself,¡± said Ymdaton, ¡°I just could not put it into words earlier.¡±


    ¡°Will you assist me in my little mission then?¡±


    ¡°I will,¡± Crewslayer looked around, ¡°Won¡¯t I need some kind of disguise too?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± smiled Lulaton, ¡°I will send yours with a messenger in two days, when the time comes for us to depart.¡±

 Chapter XIX: Gifts

    It felt like Ymdaton was receiving a holiday gift. For some reason the package from the old man was delivered in the night, while he slept. Early in the morning he stumbled upon the massive sack lying at the doors of his room. Crewslayer dragged it in, noticing that it was quite heavy. He untied the rope at the neck of the sack and looked inside, his eyes widening in surprise.


    Half an hour later Abimnupal knocked on Ymdaton¡¯s door and instantly walked in without waiting for a permission. He stopped at the threshold, dumbstruck.


    ¡°What?¡± asked Crewslayer, his voice distorted by the helmet, he glanced at his equipment and shrugged, ¡°Fine disguise, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± smiled his comrade, ¡°It falls apart the moment you speak in your perfect kinani.¡±


    Indeed, Ymdaton was clad in full dreavlyani armour: long hauberk, extended legguards, massive armguards and pauldrons, a helm with an aventail which obscured his face completely. He was still armed with an axe, yet of local design. His shield was also bigger, like those worn by militia.


    ¡°I see that you are prepared for your mission already,¡± said Abimnupal, ¡°I want you to visit a certain place alongside me, before you leave.¡±


    ¡°Allow me to pack up my belongings,¡± said Ymdaton and began doing as he said, clanging loudly with his armour.


    Before the hour ended, their were walking on the empty streets of Khladnetz. It was still too early, the stars were still sean in the greyish sky.


    ¡°What kind of place is this?¡± asked Crewslayer.


    ¡°The one that will help you in your task,¡± answered Abimnupal with a mysterious expression.


    They reached a huge empty area at the crossing of roads. In the middle of it a conical tent ten steps wide stood, it¡¯s pinnacle tilted slightly to the side. Abimnupal entered the tent, Ymdaton followed him. It was mostly empty inside. The only two noticeable things were a massive table and a weird construction of interlocked wheels from which ropes were reaching to every supporting beam of the tent.


    They were met by an old man, who was wearing a layer upon layer of warm clothes and still shaking from cold.


    ¡°Greeting, children under the stars,¡± said he, ¡°What do you seek in the hall of worship?¡±


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    ¡°My friend departs today, to take on the quest of arms,¡± answered Abimnupal, ¡°He requires a blessing.¡±


    Ymdaton looked at his friend, than at the man.


    ¡°Wait,¡± said he, ¡°I know you. You were the priest of Ytenisar at Isary. You were making prayers for Abeneewy.¡±


    ¡°It was so, indeed,¡± agreed the old one, ¡°But here in the far away land I am the only priest left, so I honour every star. Blessing of whom do you require?¡±


    ¡°I require none,¡± retorted Crewslayer, ¡°My whole life I was managing without prayers just well. I do not mess with the stars, they do not mess with me.¡±


    ¡°Hush,¡± grabbed his shoulder Abimnupal, ¡°It won¡¯t hurt. In fact, think of all your past exploits in the forest. You are dealing with spirits at every step, it will be easier to do so with guidance from above.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± sighed Ymdaton, ¡°But whom? Mahandahy, so I may destroy my enemies utterly?¡±


    ¡°No, I do not think you are lacking in this department,¡± grinned his comrade, ¡°O priest, give my friend the blessing of Ulh.¡±


    ¡°I understand,¡± nodded the old man and approached the wheels. He turned one of them and the whole mechanism came to life. It turned, swaying the tent to the side. Now Ymdaton noticed that its covering was not full. There was a hole at the top, through which stars could be seen. The priest stopped, when the star named Ulh appeared in it.


    ¡°O Ulh,¡± began he, half singing, half speaking, ¡°You, who guide through changing currents, you who show the blade¡¯s path in the turmoil of battle, you who administer the cast of dice, you who lead aside misfortune and who bring closer luck, be graceful and bless your son¡­¡±


    ¡°Ymdaton.¡±


    ¡°Bless your son Ymdaton in whatever undertaking he may choose. Bring him the best opportunities and rid him of the worst accidents. Do it so, for the blood is not to be forgotten.¡±


    ¡°Do it so, for the blood is not to be forgotten,¡± uttered Ymdaton and Abimnupal in a unison.


    ¡°You know, you worry too much about me,¡± said Crewslayer when they left the tent.


    ¡°You are my friend,¡± told Abimnupal and hit Ymdaton on the shoulder, ¡°Fair wind.¡±


    ¡°Fair wind,¡± nodded Crewslayer.

 Chapter XX: Behind the Facade

    Everyone in the room pretended to be someone else. The old servant and the advisor to lord of Abeneewy was masquerading as a tyrsenoi merchant. In the corners stood four fully armoured warriors, their faces hidden behind visors, their features hidden under their armour. Those were all seasoned crewmen from Isary and not drevlyani mercenaries, as their equipment suggested. Finally, there was a man prominent in Velmytop, stalking circles around wares on display. He touched expensive pieces of cloth, sniffed at rare spices, ogled trinkets of precious metals. Nothing seemed to satisfy him.


    Many customers came since the day that Lulaton¡¯s caravan arrived in the city and rented a massive house in its very heart. There the old man was visited by men, women, and whole families who were willing to spend their money on exotic goods. Ymdaton saw the false trader to unveil hidden yearnings of most people, even those who did not understand their needs themselves.


    While doing so, he also seamlessly extracted the facts on city¡¯s affairs from his clients. They confirmed many assumptions already: gathering of troops, meetings of warlords, hoarding of food and weapons. Lulaton did it with such skill, that no living soul suspected anything. Except for the latest visitor, who refused to answer questions stubbornly.


    The man was obviously a warrior. He was not wearing the armour, yet his movements, posture, and scarred face were obvious signs. Crewslayer had a faint feeling of recognition, as if he saw the customer at least once before.


    The visitor stopped in front of the bronze statuette of Pae, the giant with seven eyes and ten nostrils, who lived in the north-eastern parts of the great sea and breathed out southern winds. The man was looking at it with interest for some time, then turned to Lulaton.


    ¡°Can you please tell me if there are any strangers in this house?¡± asked he.


    ¡°No, only my warriors and servants,¡± answered the false merchant.


    ¡°And what about the outside?¡± said the man thoughtfully.


    ¡°None,¡± told him Lulaton, then, after gazing at the visitor for some time, he added, ¡°I also have three armed men patrolling around the building. No one unwelcome will come. No one unwanted will hear our conversation, is this what troubles you?¡±


    The customer nodded.


    ¡°I might want to buy something...¡± he paused, choosing the word, ¡°unpopular in our city.¡±


    ¡°I have some really strange things hidden in chests for men of most refined tastes,¡± Lulaton gave him a smile of understanding.


    ¡°I came to acquire choice,¡± said the man.


    Lulaton looked at him with interest, one of guards shrugged.


    ¡°I also do not think that you are truly a merchant,¡± continued the man.


    Two out of four warriors reached for their weapons.


    ¡°Easy,¡± glanced at them the old one, then returning his look to the visitor, ¡±You should know one thing. We are ready to pack up and leave Velmytop before sun falls. Will someone notice your absence during such a short time?¡±


    The customer smiled and wholeheartedly laughed after a moment.


    ¡°No need for extreme measures, my friend,¡± said he, ¡°I came to tell you of important things, not to unveil your masquerade. I can follow you to the city gates bound, with my mouth staffed, if it will make you feel more secure.¡±


    ¡°There is no need for this,¡± replied Lulaton, ¡°If you answer three question: Who am I? Who are you? Why would I want to hear you?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know who you are exactly,¡± the visitor slowly walked across the room as he spoke, ¡°some trickster from the court of so called knez. I am Zelobit, the one who was humbled at the gates of your city not so long ago. I want to tell you about plans of my kin to drive ostrovyani out of Khladnetz.¡±


    ¡°This is interesting,¡± the old man stroked his beard, ¡°I suppose that you should be quite angry with lord Azytenisar. You were defeated by him in front of your men. Why would you want to help his cause now?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I was in anger, trust me,¡± smiled the warlord, ¡°Ever since that day I thought about you ostrovyani, you stole my sound sleep. I constantly imagined the ways to end your master. Needless to say, that I came  eagerly to the war council where your demise was to be planned.¡±


    ¡°That is the part where you tell how everything have changed since then,¡± chuckled one of the bodyguards. Lulaton gave him a scorning look.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± the drevlyani warrior nodded with all seriousness, ¡°I came there and listened to my brethren talking about your evil that plagued Khladnetz. And that was when I doubted my desires.


    You see, everyone talked the same thing in almost the same words. That you are fiends from over the sea, who teach coldblooded kinslaying to those you have subdued. That you are murderers, ruling by force, turning our people into murderers as well. Every single warlord that I knew told this.


    It felt so wrong. The nature of men is to be different. No three humans should have had thoughts that similar. And I had a full meeting before me, speaking in one voice. I pondered that. I came to the conclusion that their opinion was not theirs at all.¡±


    ¡°Whose then?¡± asked the false merchant when Zelobit paused.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    The drevlyani man looked around warily, as if afraid of being heard.


    ¡°I told you, there are only us in this place. No man is allowed without permission.¡±


    ¡°That is the point,¡± whispered the warlord, ¡°No man. I am afraid of no man. But the thing that I talk about,¡± he seemed to force words out of his mouth, ¡°The protector. It is far beyond men.¡±


    Ymdaton focused his attention, upon hearing this. The protector, this mystical creature scaring even the bravest.


    ¡°So you believe, that city protectors enforce their will on the people, and their will is for us to disappear?¡± furrowed his brows the old one.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± said Zelobit, ¡°And then I thought: men gathered there called you overlords, while the protectors lorded over them in the same manner. It was either hypocrisy or utter blindness on their side.¡±


    ¡°Probably both,¡± nodded Lulaton.


    ¡°I recollected memories of meeting with your master,¡± continued the warrior, ¡°I saw his warriors in action. Yes, they are murderers, and are quite impressive at what they do.¡±


    Ymdaton smiled under his aventail. All the five kinani men were listening closely to the warlord now.


    ¡°And they do teach their art to militia of Khladnetz. But is this really the end to it? I was not as sure as my comrades. The city under your rule prosper, the people of it fended off the horrors of the forest successfully thus far. They achieved it without the protector watching over them.


    You teach our kin to be ruthless and destructive as means, not the end. The end is freedom. I read ancient scriptures. Unlike most of my kind I know, that we were not always as we are today. We were proud people of the steppes once, ruled by many knezes. Men ruled by men, not by otherworldly beings. It was so until kings of the south, who style themselves heavenly, came and drove our kind into the forest.


    We were lost here for many hundred years, hunted by demons and spirits, oblivious to our splendid past. You¡¯ve made the people of Khladnetz remember it. I¡¯d join the cause of your knez just for the hope that my kin may stand tall and mighty once again.¡±


    There was silence in the room after the drevlyani warlord finished his speech.


    ¡°Perhaps blood of your ancestors helped you to put it into words better than I ever could,¡± finally said Lulaton, ¡°So, in the name of Lord Azytenisar, Master of Abeneewy and knez of Khladnetz, I accept your assistance. What form will it take?¡±


    ¡°Obviously, I will not be able to lend armed support, at least not from the beginning,¡± Zelobit began talking without the thoughtful look from moments ago and much quicker too, ¡°I will be executed If I tried now, our people are not yet ready for such a drastic change. Anything else, however. Intelligence: details on our troops, commanders, logistics, planned routes, and such. I also promise to keep my own forces out of combat as long as it is possible without raising suspicion.¡±


    ¡°That will be excellent, indeed,¡± the old walked around the room and opened one of chests , ¡°Now I will tell you how we will communicate,¡± he produced a fist sized ceramic looking ball out of it.  It appeared as if eyeballs were etched into its surface, ¡°This weird thing is an armour of a sea urchin. It lives in the shoreline of Hundred Isles. I doubt anyone except me in the whole forest possesses such thing, let alone few of them.


    Time to time a hunter-gatherer will be coming to your house or tent, requesting shelter. You, of course, will not be able to refuse, such is the tradition. If the man presents you a shell like this, than it is my agent and you can send message with him.¡±


    ¡°Quite a craft way,¡± nodded Zelobit. He untied a small flat sack from his belt and handed it to Lulaton, ¡°Here is the intelligence that I can provide right now.¡±


    ¡°It is time for us to part,¡± the old man hid the leather pack under the mantle. He raised his palm with spread fingers, ¡°You are not of kinani, still, I wish you guidance from above, you are a man worthy of it.¡±


    The warlord bid them farewell and left. Shortly after, Crewslayer approached the false trader.


    ¡°You told you had a perfect disguise, old man,¡± said he, ¡°Yet that one saw right through it. Someone else might do so.¡±


    ¡°He knew what he was looking for and just happened to stumble upon us,¡± shook his head Lulaton, ¡°You are right, however, people of Velmytop may suspect something. I don¡¯t think he concealed his beliefs well and everyone will soon know that he visited us. I order our belongings to be packed, so we can leave the city before dusk.¡±


    ¡°I wish to take a walk,¡± the old man could not see Ymdaton''s face under the visor. Fortunately so, since it bore a smirk at the moment, ¡°To memorise the streets, you know, in case we fight there one day.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t do anything of your usual behaviour, I beg you,¡± Lulaton looked at him with distressed eyes, ¡°No talking to townsmen, no displays of martial skill, nothing that can uncover us. And, most of all, do not come close to the city center, to the protector¡¯s place. It will see through you in a single glance. If it acknowledges our presence, we won¡¯t be able to run, do you understand?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, easy, old man, I am not that stupid. Just a little walk, that¡¯s all.¡±

 Chapter XXI: And They Sing Too

    The town was quite similar to Khladnetz. Unlike cities of Kinani, where streets were straight and organized, usually running along canals, buildings were placed chaotically here. Ymdaton imagined that the settlement began with the central plaza and a circle of houses around it. Later, a circle more appeared, and so on as the city grew. There were of course several roads leading from the center to the walls, but other than that walkways were arranged messily. They would probably look as cracks on a damaged piece of glass, when seen at the bird''s-eye view.


    The city swarmed with warriors. Some were armed, some wore everyday clothes yet still were noticeable for their pace and bearing. Many of them scanned Ymdaton with curious glances. His shield bore an emblem of a maple seed. Lulaton told him that it was a popular symbol among Drevlyani bastards, and bastards were so common among mercenaries that no one would ever get interested in his name or origin. Crewslayer did not feel as safe now. He constantly had a feeling that something in him raises suspicion among the townsmen, that they glare at his back as he passes by.


    He began avoiding crowded streets, threading more on back alleys. There was much less noise also, only the muffled sounds of people at the principal roads, or someone o§ãasionally doing housework at the backyard. That is why when Ymadton heard grunts, screams of pain and noises of someone taking the beating just around the corner, that was a surprise.


    He quickened his pace and walked into the scene of five men kicking a single unlucky one who was lying on the snow. Without thinking for too long, Crewslayer made a few steps toward them, intentionally rattling with his armour for all to hear.


    Men stopped and looked at him.


    ¡°We catched a traitor, a poisoner of minds!¡± said one of them excitedly.


    Ymdaton did not answer anything. He made a single step towards them, his hand upon the shaft of his axe. Enthusiasm on the faces of men changed into disturbance.


    ¡°He is the enemy of the city, he preaches the ways of conquerors from over the sea!¡± spat the same man, now with less confidence in his voice.


    Another step was made by Crewslayer. Men traded wary looks. Another slow step. Citizens lost their composure totally and ran off each in the different direction. The Kinani warrior did not make any other movement, he stayed where he was, looking at them fleeting with a smile.


    The beaten man picked himself up slowly. He was past prime years, scrawny, with a receding hairline, yet his hair that still persisted was long and curly. He was obviously in pain, his clothes were messed up, but instead of grabbing a hurt limb, or brushing snow from his body, first thing that he did was to pick up a musical instrument that was on the ground few steps away. It was a string one, shaped like an onion cut in half. The man carefully inspected it, caressing the thing like a newborn child.


    ¡°It is a miracle that they did not break it,¡± sighed the man.


    ¡°What is your name?¡± asked Ymdaton, ¡°How did you anger them that much?¡±


    ¡°You are not drevlyani,¡± said the man, piercing him with a look.


    Ymdaton cursed silently. He failed to avoid the single thing that could break his disguise.


    ¡°Listen,¡± said he, ¡°I did you a favor. Do me a favor by not questioning my identity.¡±


    ¡°That does not matter anyway,¡± the man shrugged his shoulders, ¡°You are a good man. That is more important than the blood or a birthplace. My name is Radoslav. I am a singer and a musician. You see, our town became nervous lately. Hate towards men from the islands that reside in Khladnetz takes frenzied forms. People jump at slightest signs of dissent. I¡¯ve heard that I am not the only one to be punished in this way. When in truth I was only telling a story which my father, grandfather and great-grandfather were telling, the story about human will and power, not related to current events in any way.¡±


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¡°What story?¡±


    ¡°The story of this house,¡± Radoslav pointed over his shoulder with a thumb.


    At first Crewslayer did not understand what the musician meant. But then it struck him: the house was built not out of logs, but huge gray bricks. It was the first stone building that Ymdaton saw in Dreavlyani cities. If there was a source of stone to build walls somewhere in Odwitchni, then Azytenisar should be informed of it.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to hear this story too,¡± said he.


    The singer glanced at the snow under his feet. It was covered in blood, his blood.


    ¡°Perhaps in some more cozy place I¡¯d sing for you,¡± told he.


    The musician led him through the city, avoiding crowded places. Soon reached a fenced area along the city wall. Upon entering, Ymdaton saw countless wooden posts and statues standing in rows on the ground..


    ¡°That¡¯s not exactly the place I imagined,¡± shrugged Crewslayer, ¡°It is a graveyard, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Radoslav nodded, and moved forth among graves.


    ¡°I saw many cemeteries through my life,¡± said Ymdaton. He considered his next words, then continued anyway, knowing that the musician probably saw through his disguise already, ¡°My people do not bury, we send our dead to the western shore. Yet other nations that I¡¯ve encountered always placed graveyards behind the walls. What¡¯s the matter with you?¡±


    ¡°It is to protect their sleep from the forest,¡± answered the singer without much surprise being heard in his voice.


    ¡°So they do not walk again?¡±


    ¡°That is far from the worst scenario.¡±


    The musician stopped before a carved figure of a man, one and a half lifesize. The wooden man was sitting on the ground, with a similar string instrument at his side. Radoslav sat on the lap of the statue and hit the strings. Ymdaton leaned against a wooden pole nearby and listened. The music was not the most sophisticated or beautiful that he heard, yet instrument¡¯s wailing notes reached for the heart. Soon the Kinani warrior became immersed in the song.


    There was a man once in the city


    Who lost all that he had to flames


    In grief he fled into the forest


    And cried out to the groves


    O mighty forest, please consume me


    For I have nothing to live for


    Odwitchni stepped forth to answer


    Revealing its visage of dread


    With horns and eyes abyssal black


    Shaking the ground with mighty tread


    And spoke to him who was in mourning


    I won''t devour you, but instead


    I''ll gift you with a house full new


    The kind of which no man yet saw


    Enjoy it for three years before


    I come to take a payment


    For an errand that I''m doing now


    The man returned to the town


    And lo, there was a house new


    Right in the ashes of his lost estate


    Of walls solid and grey


    Built of the bones of earth


    Like no Drevlyani saw before


    And there he lived for whole three years


    Until a fearsome storm came down to Velmytop


    At the beginning of the fourth

 Chapter XXII: At the Core

    The man locked doors and shutters tight,


    Crawling to corner of his home


    To tremble there in fear and hear


    As raging roars and angry steps


    Did thunder through the town outside


    For three full days he lay there low


    Until a quiet fell again


    Instead, a knocking on his door


    Broke through the empty air


    On trembling legs


    With axe in hand


    The man came forth


    Full of resolve to face his guests


    And hide from destiny no more


    But as he opened the door


    There was a warrior outside


    In dirty armour, with a rumpled beard


    He stood among the ruins of the town


    And asked the unlucky one


    If he can offer a few mugs of mead


    Which the surprised man did without words


    His guest did drink and tell him how


    The forest stole the stones from him


    And built the house of wonder of


    But now the spirits got to pay


    For all foul things that they did


    And won''t return to take the man


    But how can I repay you, mighty one?


    To which the warrior answered him


    That mead would be a fine reward


    And he requires nothing more


    And so he left the awestruck man


    Not even telling of his name


    The only thing that he made known


    Was an image of mountain


    Painted silver on his shield


    ¡°But who was he? What did he look like? Was he from Velmytop? How comes that he possessed that much stone in the forest?¡± Ymdaton assailed the musician with questions as soon as he finished the song.


    ¡°Man of the Mountain, you mean? To tell the truth, I know not much more than you. My great grandfather,¡± he patted the statue that served him as a chair, ¡°Was tasked with the creation of this song by the master of the inn. Since then our family preserves it. The destruction of the city did happen, it¡¯s a recorded event. Everything else is known only from his words.¡±


    ¡°So this happened many generations ago,¡± Crewslayer was silent for some time, ¡°What did your guardian do in all of this, why did it not repel the attack?¡± said he finally.


    ¡°That is unknown either,¡± shook his head the signer.


    ¡°You left me with more questions then I had before.¡±


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.¡°Sorry, but you asked for it.¡±


    ¡°That is fine,¡± Ymdaton''s voice was suddenly full of energy again, ¡°There¡¯s a great turmoil coming. Take care of yourself, musician. Those who wronged will pay. Now I have one last business in the town, excuse me.¡±


    He left the musician who bid him farewell in a most emotional way. Ymdaton approached the central square of Velmytop. He placed himself carefully around the corner of the last house. So that he could observe the plaza freely, while staying less visible himself. There was a similar house with three walls as the one in Khladnetz. It was adorned lavishly, somewhere carving on the facade was even gilded with gold.


    But most interesting thing about the building was inside. On a thick layer of hay lied a creature. It was much less odd than Ymdaton expected, and much more so at the same time.


    The thing was obviously feline. It was generally built as a house cat, but slightly longer limbs and body suggested a lynx or a wildcat also. It was immense, covering most of the inner space with its body. The beast had a short thick dirty white fur, with its paws, muzzle, ears, and tail colored brownish-black. Its fangs were so long that they reached almost to the chin of the creature, while its jaws were shut. It slumbered coiled, covering its nose with the tail.


    Ymdaton slowly turned around and walked down the street. He was entering the side alley, thinking of how different the protector of Velmytop compared to his expectations. He halted suddenly, because his next step brought him into the massive shadow stretching in front of him. Crewslayer raised his head to see just what did cast it.


    It was the beast that he saw sleeping at the square just a moment before. This close it looked even more impressive, as huge as elephants of the south, if not larger.


    The thing pierced him with a gaze of its celestial blue eyes. Red glares from the winter sun played upon them. Ymdaton saw an intelligence in that look, much more than a simple beast could show. It was as if the protector gazed into the very soul of the man. Instinctively Crewslayer already knew that resistance would be futile.


    Still, he unsheathed his axe.

 Chapter XXIII: Hair Standing

    Ymdaton tried his best to not make any sudden moves. The protector glared at him, its whiskers pointed forward in a gesture of interest. Crewslayer could feel thing¡¯s thoughts. He encountered magicians from southern kingdoms who knew the trick of making words ring in one¡¯s mind. There was nothing so blunt. The creature conveyed the message through the sheer presence, without any sound or movement.


    In an instant Ymdaton understood that it knew his true identity, knew of his kin in Khladnetz, knew of his mission in Velmytop, it knew everything by just looking at him. It bore no hostile intentions, not yet. Because it was not afraid.


    In the shining blue eyes of the guardian the warrior saw memories of times before a man first stepped into the forest, the knowledge of places that he could not imagine, creatures that he could not believe in, truths that he could not comprehend. He was nothing before power and intelligence of that ancient creature. The very thought of opposing it with a blade seemed laughable.


    It was aware of their plans. It allowed them to act out of curiosity. The thing was interested just how far a bunch of Kinani would go. How long it would take them to break. Now it wanted to test them with war. Now it wanted to test Ymdaton, yes, it even knew his name. It wanted to test how good he was at war, here and now.


    As the last thought passed through his consciousness, Crewslayer braced. A roar rolled through the streets, echoing between walls. Ymdaton instantly felt the pressure against his mind abate, as the creature turned its ears backwards. A low rumbling noise came from north, as if a landslide was happening there. The protector did burst into action suddenly , running in that direction with wide leaps, vanishing from Ymdaton¡¯s sight behind a row of houses.


    The warrior let a long sigh of relief. He glanced at his right arm. It was clenched tight around the handle, trembling. Crewslayer scolded himself with an unspoken dirty word.


    When he rejoined the rest of his party, the caravan was already prepared for the departure: bakhmats burdened with goods, warriors and serfs wearing travel clothes. The old man greeted him.


    ¡°We almost left without you,¡± said he, ¡°What took you so long.¡±


    ¡°I was being introduced to local culture,¡± shrugged Ymdaton, gathering his composure, ¡°What is happening?¡±


    ¡°The city is under attack,¡± Lulaton gave him a long look. He could not see warrior¡¯s face under the helmet, but Crewslayer felt as if the advisor still read his emotions somehow.


    ¡°What kind of an attack comes in the middle of winter?¡±


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°The forest attacks,¡± the old one turned and waved his hand, ordering caravan to move, ¡°Come, we don¡¯t have much time. We are ought to find a way out of the town.¡±


    Kinani moved through Velmytop slowly. Two crewmen were constantly scouting streets ahead, reporting for danger. There were many small fights, and the caravan avoided them all, leaving citizens alone to defend their city. Ymdaton was not chosen as an outrunner, so he did not see much. Several times he got glimpses of militia battling the invaders further away on side avenues.


    After some time they stopped. Lulaton gathered all twelve warriors of the escort.


    ¡°Have you noticed the direction from which the attack comes?¡± asked he his scouts.


    ¡°From the northern parts of the city, I believe. All the raiding troops marched from there,¡± answered one of them.


    ¡°What kind of foes are those? They are not humans, aren¡¯t they?¡± asked Ymdaton in an upbeat tone.


    The old man gave him a wary look.


    ¡°They do look like humans, although they seem to have four arms each and wear much lighter armour than forest dwellers usually do,¡± said the other scout, ¡°But we did not have a luxury of ogling them for a long time, you know.¡±


    ¡°That will suffice, thank you,¡± nodded Ymdaton.


    ¡°You are welcome, Crewslayer,¡± the warrior pronounced a moniker with a deference which bordered on awe. Ymdaton heard such intonations when people spoke about heroes of songs. It made him smile like a child who received praise.


    Lulaton clapped his hand twice, acquiring everyone¡¯s attention again. His expression was dissatisfied.


    ¡°Calm down. I won¡¯t let you to get into a stupid meatgrinder just because there is a hero among you. We will move northwards, avoiding any confrontation as before. It is impossible for us to get city gates open, the militia are too frightened now to let some strangers pass by. There ought to be a breach in the north part of the wall, from where the attackers are coming. We will escape through it.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like you are leading us into another meatgrinder,¡± said one of crewmen, ¡°There will be stars know how many more raiders just behind the breach.¡±


    ¡°I do not believe this,¡± Lulaton shook his head, ¡°These are things of the woods, not men. They will not be so smart to leave a rearguard. They will flood the city with all their numbers. They will be either all attacking or all retreating, not advancing as you¡¯d expect from an army. Anyway,¡± he circled his warriors with a look, ¡°Maybe someone has a better idea?¡±


    All were silent.


    ¡°Thought so. Then we move out. Now.¡±

 Chapter XXIV: The Way Out Is Through

    The caravan traversed the city at ever increasing pace. The fighting was only getting thicker around, often they stumbled upon sites of finished skirmishes. Bodies of militiamen and monsters laid there. Ymdaton got a better look at the invaders now.


    They indeed had four arms each, the lower pair carried weapons as a man would do, the upper pair ended with massive claws as long as a palm. Their skin was pale as a snow upon which they slept, their faces bore features smaller than a normal human should have: tiny noses, tiny mouths, small eyes surrounded by skin folds which almost obscured them.


    The breach in the wall could be seen already. They were to pass but few rows of houses before reaching it. It was immense, easily twenty steps wide. Crewslayer wondered, what could have made it.


    Loud mewling growls caught everyone¡¯s attention. Ymdaton turned his head and saw the protector of Velmytop standing upon the roof of a building half a league behind them. Its back was arched, its tail pointed up, its fur standing, everything made its silhouette look even more massive. With ears flattened backwards it growled in a low resonating voice at something just outside Crewslayer¡¯s sight. A moment later a house not far from it fell apart spectacularly.


    Bakhmats panicked, some tried to shake of their burden, some tried to run off. It took great effort of serfs to calm them down. Ymdaton continued glancing back. From the dust and snow cloud that was raised by the destruction, a creature emerged. It was breathtakingly massive, taller than any house in the city.


    Its body was like that of an ape, yet covered in feathers, it dragged behind itself a tail as if that of a peacock. Feathers were multicolored . However, they did not have a motley feeling to them, they looked dirty and unpleasant, like the rainbow that spilled oil makes upon the water. Its head was beaked, crowned with a bony crest. Its eyes were small, black as a coal, emotionless. Along its spine grew several tubes of bone, twice the man¡¯s height.


    ¡°Faster! Faster!¡± yelled Lulaton, ¡°We should reach the wall before we are caught in their fight!¡±


    Serfs urged the animals to quicken pace, everyone almost ran now. The giant thing stood before the growling protector. It hesitated to attack several moments but then jumped at the guardian and they rolled through the city, pummeling each other, leaving great destruction in their wake. Scouts returned yet again.


    ¡°The path ahead is barred by enemy troops, old man,¡± said one of them.


    ¡°How many?¡± Lulaton furrowed his brows.


    ¡°About twenty five, that what we have seen with our own eyes. There can be more.¡±


    ¡°We can not advance,¡± shook his head the false merchant, ¡°We will make a detour, approach the wall a little more to the east.¡±


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    ¡°There is not enough time,¡± said Ymdaton.


    ¡°What do you propose? We will not fight our way through, there are too many of them.¡±


    ¡°I killed more alone,¡± shrugged Crewslayer.


    ¡°You had the advantage and those were humans.¡±


    ¡°I killed inhumans as well. And we have the advantage of a surprise.¡±


    ¡°It is too risky, if fe do not make it through, the intelligence on the coming war dies with us.¡±


    ¡°Does it look any less risky staying in the city,¡± Ymdaton made a step towards the old one and leaned forward menacingly, ¡°We will either get caught it this,¡± he pointed at the battling giants, ¡°or face even more troops from the forest, or have to explain to militia why we are trying to leave the city at times like these.¡±


    ¡°We should wait till everything settles down and escape then,¡± said Lulaton stubbornly.


    ¡°Nothing will settle down,¡± Crewslayer raised his voice, ¡°You are not a warrior, you should not be making decisions like that,¡± he turned to crewmen, ¡°there are no captains here, and lord of the house is certainly not present¡­¡±


    Someone laughed nervously.


    ¡°I am the only one of High Crew here,¡± he continued, ¡°According to the codes, I have the right to assume command in the battle. Follow me and we will break out of this accursed place in no time.¡±


    ¡°There are still over twenty five enemies ahead, we are not numerous enough,¡± said one of bodyguards.


    ¡°Trust me,¡± Ymdaton circled everyone with his gaze, ¡°You know my deeds, I was in much worse situations and still here I am. I will lead you to victory. There are no twenty five warriors, or thirty, or forty. There are a score or two of the forest spawn. Do you think we would not defeat two scores of wolves while fighting together?¡±


    ¡°This is a great load of gullshit, you will be the death of us all!¡± spat Lulaton.


    It was the first time that Ymdaton heard him talking in an informal manner, let alone swear dirtily like a serf. The warrior grinned for no one to see under his aventail. He ignored the whining and continued.


    ¡°Now listen what we are going to do,¡± said he.


    Things of the forest were scavenging the corpses of militia. Their intent was probably not to leave anything that could be carried. Armour, weapons, precious trinkets worn around necks or wrists, all of that was taken. Perhaps because they were that much involved in stripping the dead, they noticed the attack too late.


    First fallen monster never even saw Ymdaton, it got an axe diving in its skull and died instantly. Crewslayer put a foot at thing¡¯s shoulder and pushed, pulling his weapon free. Seven more kinani warriors followed him, cutting, slashing, laying foes low. When invaders finally understood what was happening, crewmen already stepped back and gathered into the formation, their shields locked tightly.

 Chapter XXV: Deafening

    The fight of the colossi moved to the west, so that the men could still see it. Ymdaton was usually focused on the combat entirely. Yet that battle was of such proportions that he could not help glancing. The feathered thing tried to get the protector again and again with kicks, punches, tried to grab and strike it with a beak. It was unsuccessful thus far. The defender of the city was certainly smaller than the foe, but its attack were lightning fast.


    Ymdaton felt that his was mistaken. Pale things were more than simple beasts. They fought like men, understood counterattacks and feints. First enemy that he clashed with in the formation managed to get on Crewslayer¡¯s nerves before dying. Every time that the the man outpaced its axe and shield, the thing attacked with the upper pair of limbs, trying to gut him with fearsome claws. Ymdaton finally tricked it into hitting its own shield with nails, where they stuck.


    After this a simple swing to the face finished it. Not everyone was as resourceful as he. Crewslayer saw a warrior in the right wing of the formation giving too much attention to enemy¡¯s weapons and getting struck to the head with talons. Other beasts swarmed him in a blink of the eye. There was now only seven of kinani left on the battlefield, four more guarding the caravan which was hid close by.


    The feathered giant meanwhile grabbed a support beam of a destroyed house and tried to hit the protector with it. The guardian dodged all the swings, parrying some with a paw. The attacker got frustrated soon, throwing its improvised weapon at the enemy, missing yet again. The protector used that moment to jump at the foe. It grabbed the monster with with its forelimbs, locked jaws at its neck, and began to tear enemy¡¯s side with claws of hind legs. The monster roared and tried to shake it off, to no avail.


    Kinani men were hard pressed. There were too many of pale skinned freaks, perhaps even forty. They were good fighters and had a natural advantage of four arms. One more crewman went down. Ymdaton dealt with his foes just fine, but his peers were obviously not as skilled as he. Another attacker faced him, another game of getting both pairs of hands fooled.


    This one was quite good, and kept Crewslayer under pressure for some time. The thing managed to make a swing with its upper right arm that was completely unexpected by Ymdaton. He saw it, but understood that he will not be fast enough to block or parry it. Claws were coming for his neck or shoulder and there was not a thing he could do.


    Except Ymdaton forgot that he wore drevlyani armour. That thought came to him the last moment and he swayed his shoulder, receiving the hit upon the massive pauldron. The enemy was momentarily out of balance because of the futile strike and received a counterattack into the belly, which was not protected by its scarce chestguard. A swing to the neck finished it.


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    The feathered giant was hard pressed. It bled, while the protector was close to tearing its innards out. It swayed to the sides desperately, but then was suddenly still. It made a deep inhale, so loud that it could be clearly heard leagues away. Upon the bony spikes which adorned its back veiny sacks which looked like lungs began to grow. It continued breathing in, the wind rolled through streets in its direction. Ymdaton gasped, feeling it was not enough air to breath properly. Then it stopped. Then the exhale came.


    The monster breathed out with a whistling noise, so loud that it was painful to hear. It turned its beak to the protector. The guardian held with its teeth for but a heartbeat and then was literally thrown away by the wave of noise. It rolled through the city, crashing houses with its body. Its fall was ought to be thunderous, yet the whistle obscured any other sound. The part of the town that was directly affected by the attack looked like it was swept away by the flood. Buildings were picked apart and blown away by the pressure.


    Some kinani warriors held, but some were not able to deal with the onslaught, grabbing their heads, trying to cover their ears. Ymdaton forced himself to not do it, no matter the pain. They were lucky that the thing did not breath in their direction, otherwise they would have been finished already. Crewslayer expected their formation to be overwhelmed in the moment of weakness. Surprisingly, their enemies seemed to be hurt by the noise even more. They staggered around, some even fell.


    ¡°Finish them off!¡± yelled Ymdaton.


    Crewslayer was first to execute his own order. He cut one thing to the face, then another to the neck, then another to the back of the head. They were acting as if they did not see him, even though he was right there in front of them. Fourth enemy that he chose to kill sniffed the air as he came and parried his strike. Then the beasts attacked again. There was still a lot of them, more than enough to push back crewmen. Ymdaton cursed in his mind, mourning the undoing of such a nice solution. Now he was ought to think of something new before it would be too late.


    Enemies were nearly blind, probably from birth, their hearing was damaged, but the smell was still there. He glanced around and saw a cart with a massive barrel upon it standing by the house close. He knew what was inside, Dragomir often sent caravans of such things to other cities.


    ¡°Everyone, fight to that barrel, at any cost,¡± shouted he.

 Chapter XXVI: Smell of Victory

    The thing with feathers stepped through the ruins. It was silent now and it did not move hastily, as if it already felt the victory. It reached the point where the protector was last seen but did not find the foe there. It moved its head to the right and to the left, not finding anything either. Then it turned around, kicking the rubble in annoyance. That very moment the protector stepped from behind one of few undamaged building. It attacked silently, pouncing on foe¡¯s back. The two of them rolled around with growls again.


    The thing of the forest was not so outclassed this time, since the protector was moving slower and with less grace, apparently being damaged by the noise attack. Blood could be seen streaming down from its ears. The feathered monster managed to grab its foe and raised its beak to deliver a blow. That moment a loud crack came, like a thunder. Lightning passed between two foes and the whistling giant flew away, as if some colossal being kicked it in the ribs.


    The moment the thunder came, Ymdaton made the first hit on the barrel. It was not too difficult to reach it, for their enemies were still shocked and staggered behind, when men suddenly ran away.


    ¡°Follow my example!¡± yelled he. Five surviving crewmen crowded around him and cut the wood. The side of the barrel broke just as the pale things that pursued them were few steps away. The shower of mead came upon them, making each warrior wet from head to toes.


    ¡°Now spread few steps away and be completely still,¡± ordered he.


    Crewmen did just as they were told. They ran to the sides and stopped. Ymdaton admired their discipline for following such a nonsensical order without questions. Pale things were confused. They walked in circles, trying to find their enemies, yet we''re not able to detect kinani even at hand¡¯s breadth. When one of beasts was passing nearby, Crewslayer suddenly made a swing and opened its throat. The warrior then quickly changed location and stood still again. Monsters rushed to the place where he was a moment ago, but only clawed at empty air.


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    The feathered giant was being pushed to the wall. The protector attacked it relentlessly, dealing more cuts and bites. The thing tried to fight back, yet it''s limbs shook and it''s movements were unsure, apparently, guardian¡¯s lightning maimed it. Finally it turned and ran away, rolling over the wall and heading for the forest. The protector chased it, making furious mewling noises and went out of sight too.


    The squad of six men slain almost a score of pale freaks in that manner. Things still were not able to figure out what was happening, to them it probably looked as if they were hunted by invisible foes.


    ¡°Time to end this!¡± yelled Crewslayer when he saw that not many enemies were still standing.


    Kinani warriors exploded with the last violent attack, striking down the last few confused foes. Moments later there were only humans upon the battlefield. Victorious crewmen rejoined the caravan which was hidden behind two houses just around the corner. Lulaton was still disgruntled.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter,¡± laughed Ymdaton, hitting him on shoulder, ¡°I won that one for you. Can¡¯t you smell the spirit of a victory feast following us?¡± he laughed, ¡±Let us be going before something as scary as the feathered thing arrives.¡±


    The old man answered nothing. He would not talk to Crewslayer for all way back.


    Through the cleared passage Kinani party escaped the city, facing no more opposition. With all haste they headed for Khladnetz, carrying news of the approaching war.

 Chapter XXVII: Blending Colours

    Ymdaton was awake surprisingly early, few hours before the time of meeting. It was unusual for Crewslayer to not sleep soundly before a battle. Was it the anticipation, that brought him into wakefulness? That was not a skirmish in the woods, not another single combat, not a battle against evil spirits. A war between between Khladnetz and its neighbouring states was on the way, man against man, crew against crew, nation against nation. He did not fight in a real war since Vetluna. That was the return to his very true craft.


    How would he define the nature of war? History was ever written in blood. To start a war meant to wet the quill of a chronicler.


    Thoughts would not allow Crewslayer to rest, so he decided to arm himself. When he left Isary, he did not bring his serf in charge of arms along. It was much longer and arduous task for him alone, yet the process also provided more time for meditation. When he put a helmet on his head and an axe at his side, Ymdaton was much more composed already. Then he looked through the window at the stars and understood, that it was still too early. It was quite hot in the house for a fully armoured man. He decided to go outside, get some fresh air.


    It was still as cold as one would expect of the early spring morning. Ymdaton made a step and noticed a tiny dark silhouette before the doors. Upon looking closely, he saw that it was a cat with long dark fur, grey muzzle and green eyes. He knew that one. It was Spoosh, the pet of the deceased hunter-gatherer, who guided him through the eastern forest once. It was just as Crewslayer remembered it, except that its left ear was missing.


    ¡°You can¡¯t be the same one, I left you deep in the east,¡± said he to the cat. It did not react, only watched him patiently.


    ¡°You should be some evil spirit in disguise, go away!¡± he made a threatening gesture. The cat was not impressed at all.


    ¡°Well, a cat is beyond forest¡¯s powers, they say. You are not a spirit, still, go away,¡± he waved his hands at it. The animal would not move, piercing him with its gaze.


    With a sigh, Ymdaton put his travel bag against the wall and returned to the house. Not before long, he came back with a piece of jerky. He tossed it towards the cat. The animal pounced on the meat and started tearing it with remarkable ferocity. It devoured the piece in few moments.


    ¡°Now go away, please,¡± said Crewslayer. The cat approached him and began brushing against his leg and purring, ¡°No! You got it wrong!¡±


    It was in that moment that flickering light coming from the backyard caught his attention. Ymdaton walked around the house, the cat followed his steps. The light came from two torches. Two barrels were placed between them, upon one a round shield was placed, upon the other Abimnupal sat with a brush in his hands. Several pots were at his feet, the brush was wet with paint.


    ¡°You look just as one of those forest dwellers,¡± said the crewman as he saw Ymdaton, ¡°Complete with a pet,¡± he nodded towards the cat.


    It was true, for Crewslayer was clad in drevlyani armour. Only the old axe and the shield betrayed his true descent. He was more comfortable using them, than heavier weapons of Drevlyani. There was also his left arm guard, and old battered bronze thing. He kept it for no particular reason, as a memento.


    ¡°I came to appreciate the protection it offers during my time in Velmytop,¡± Ymdaton shrugged his shoulders, so that his armour made a noise, ¡°And that,¡± he glanced at Spoosh, ¡°That is a certain deadman having a laugh.¡±


    ¡°Drevlyani say that a cat chooses to accompany one who has eyes of the forest upon him. It brings him luck that is required to survive. Isn¡¯t it fitting?¡±


    ¡°And what are you doing here, that early?¡±


    ¡°I am doing my emblem,¡± Abimnupal drew a line with a brush on his shield.


    ¡°By yourself?¡±


    ¡°As you can see.¡±


    ¡°Was it damaged?¡±


    ¡°No. I just felt like I could make it better. I redraw it time to time, when I think that I acquired enough skill,¡± he paused for a moment and then added, ¡°Usually I feel the urge to do so before a battle.¡±


    Crewslayer moved closely and looked at the emblem. He saw it countless times before, but only now he noticed how beautiful it truly was. Abimnupal''s shield bore the image of a sea serpent. Most shields that Ymdaton saw in his life were painted in a schematic manner, with simple lines and flat colours. But that one was unlike any other: detailed, with fine proportions, lively shades, visible texture of scales. Crewslayer saw even muscle being suggested under creature¡¯s hide, and the coloring implied that the light falling upon it was distorted by the layers of water.


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    ¡°Did you ever think that you may have chosen the wrong craft?¡± smiled Ymdaton.


    ¡°No, I do kill people much better than I do paint,¡± laughed Abimnupal, ¡°Besides, the only thing I did through the years was polishing a single picture. Everyone can do it.¡±


    ¡°I probably can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t try. What is that drawn upon you shield though. Is it a crimson moon?¡±


    ¡°It is.¡±


    ¡°How did you choose it?¡± asked the crewman with a genuine interest.


    ¡°It implies that I was born under the bloody moon.¡±


    ¡°Were you?¡±


    ¡°No, not really. I was born the day when moon was bloodied, yes. But not under it, mother delivered me at the dawn. However, many people who knew the date of my birth told me that I was marked with bad luck. Even my parents fell for it, naming me after Ymdahy, to deny the connection with the that sign. You see, I do not believe in stars affecting our fates that much. When deciding upon my emblem, it appeared funny to me to carry the image that everyone is afraid of but me.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you feel heavy, bearing that many bad omens?¡± asked Abimnupal.


    ¡°Blood moon is not simply a bad omen.¡±


    ¡°It is Ymrah with his hands dirty from the blood of his kin. Quite grim.¡±


    ¡°It is also the blood of his enemies, when he returns from the battle, victorious. That can be an auspicious sign. Anyway, what else?¡±


    ¡°Your moniker. Salyer of crews. We are the crew. You are a part of the crew. Will you bring death upon us all?¡± his comrade did not sound concerned much while telling it.


    ¡°It¡¯s not what it means. You know it, I¡¯ve simply slain fourty men at Vetluna.¡±


    ¡°That is the past. But the words did stick with you onwards. They will affect the future in different ways. Perhaps, in tragic ways,¡± shook his head Abimnupal.


    ¡°I told you I do not believe these things. Besides, what would you do then? Avoid me, so that my bad luck won¡¯t spill on you?¡± Ymdaton grinned.


    ¡°No. I won¡¯t abandon my friend just because the stars played a cruel joke on him,¡± said Abimnupal in a peaceful tone.


    ¡°Where is Hasdruhy, though,¡± Ymdaton switched the subject hastily, ¡°I haven¡¯t seen him since yesterday evening.¡±


    ¡°He has a meeting. He will return just in time, don¡¯t worry.¡±


    ¡°What kind of meeting is more important than rest before battle.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be obtuse,¡± said Abimnupal, looking him in the eyes.


    Ymdaton whistled.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± his friend continued, ¡°Did you know that this is common thing among crewmen by now. They choose wives from drevlyani women. Don¡¯t you have somebody?¡±


    ¡°I have a wife waiting for me at Isary, you know,¡± Ymdaton furrowed his brows.


    ¡°Many of our brethren are married also. But their wives are across the sea, while there are many fair women among forest dwellers,¡± shrugged his shoulders Abimnupal.


    ¡°Do you have one?¡± grinned Ymdaton.


    ¡°No, I am also married and have a child. I love my family too much.¡±


    They both were silent for some moments.


    ¡°I was to a bawdy house few times,¡± said Crewslayer.


    ¡°Do you remember anything meaningful: a look in the eyes, a voice, a laugh?¡± asked Abimnupal.


    ¡°No, not really,¡± said Ymdaton thoughtfully.


    ¡°Then it does not mean much,¡± smiled his comrade.


    ¡°Fine,¡± said Crewslayer with renewed energy in his tone, ¡°I will go to the gathering point.¡±


    ¡°It is still too early.¡±


    ¡°I will walk slowly.¡±


    ¡°Well then. We¡¯ll meet before the battle,¡± Abimnupal made a spread fingers gesture.


    Ymdaton returned it.


    Spoosh followed him to the entrance, but halted there and would not step onto the street.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare staying until I return,¡± said Crewslayer to the cat and closed the gates behind him.

 Chapter XXVIII: Objectives

    Troops were disturbed by the need to sit in the forest. Ymdaton could tell by the way men glanced around, too often and too suddenly. They had the right to be anxious. Both Drevlyani and Kinani warriors knew that among the trees something would always stalk you. They were not too deep in the woods, just far enough from the road that they would not be seen from it.


    ¡°Do you think it will work?¡± asked Abimnupal who displayed no signs of unease.


    ¡°That is a reasonable strategy,¡± answered Ymdaton who sat beneath the same oak as his friend, ¡°We do not have enough numbers to defeat the alliance of cities openly. It is only logical to try and thin their forces on the way, so that when their army reaches the walls of Khladnetz it would be but a pale shadow of its original strength.¡±


    ¡°No, not that. I trust lord Azytenisar completely, when it comes to planning the war. I am talking about this ambush.¡±


    ¡°Why won¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Well, the whole idea is based upon a report from a man whose reputation I broke last year. I doubt his intention to help,¡± grinned his friend.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t heard him talk. I did. He sincerely wishes us victory.¡±


    ¡°So, the one who leads that force we are about to encounter is a dumb bloodthirsty prick.¡±


    ¡°Well, if you put it like this,¡± said Ymdaton with a smile, ¡°Toogover is a prominent warrior and leader. He is rash and vengeful though. I heard he once was travelling with a small band of warriors when a swarm of borovici attacked them. They fought the attack off, but found that a lot of their equipment was stolen during the skirmish. So he led his men into the green and hunted poor things until the last of them was slaughtered and the last piece of equipment was retrieved. Yes, I think he will fall for it.¡±


    A sentry climbed down the tree and ran to Azandahy, who was in charge of the mission.


    ¡°They are coming,¡± reported he, ¡°The bait party is being chased by forces of Belosten down the road.¡±


    ¡°Have you signalled the squad at the other side of the road,¡± asked the pigeon face.


    The warrior nodded.


    ¡°Ready yourselves!¡± raised his voice the Kinani commander, ¡°On my command we emerge from the forest and attack the enemy force.¡±


    Soon the noise of countless charging bakhmats could be heard. Crewmen and militia grabbed their weapons tightly and prepared to move.


    ¡°Not yet,¡± said Azandahy, ¡°We wait until they pass a little further, so that the retreat won¡¯t be that easy.¡±


    In few moments he finally ordered the attack. Warriors ran through the forest and jumped onto the road. At the same time the bait party halted and turned, attacking again. Forces of Belosten found themselves under the three-way onslaught: from both edges of the road and from the front. Their mounts panicked when seeing foes emerge from the treeline. Some even threw their riders off.


    Warriors of Khladnetz attacked. Only half of their squad consisted of crewmen, others were seasoned militiamen. It was the time to see if their training gave fruit. Ymdaton was not disappointed. Drevlyani warriors were smiting their kin with surprising eagerness.


    Most of attackers armed themselves with long spears to pluck enemies from their saddles. Crewslayer did not trade his trusty axe for anything. He was managing just fine with it. Here he hooked bakhmat¡¯s ankle with a blade, cutting it so the animal staggered. When the warrior who was mounted upon it swayed downwards, Ymdaton met him with a butt to the helmet, knocking the foe down.


    Next one tried to charge at him, but Crewslayer avoided the mount speeding at him just in time. When there was passing him, Ymdaton slashed at his hip, just where the chainmail ended. Blood splashed at him, but the enemy rode away. He would not be fighting too long in that state, unable to put weight on one leg, thought Crewslayer.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Forces of Belosten were beaten. Here and there their warriors were being killed or pushed back. Ymdaton scanned the battlefield and found a man who was making a difference in the general picture. A tall warrior in white cape and a helmet crested by a weirdly curved horn was delivering punishment upon warriors of Khladnetz. He led his bakhmat back and fore, striking down all who encountered him. Ymdaton strode for the man, avoiding other fights, or slaying those who did hinder him quickly.


    Crewslayer placed himself so that he would be in the way of the enemy warrior next time he charges. When his mount was coming, Ymdaton made a wide swing at the beast¡¯s head. The strike connected and the momentum of the animal did most of the job for him. Its cranium was opened in quite ugly way and the bakhmat fell dead, tossing its master off. Ymdaton surged forward to finish the foe off, yet he was met by a strong kick to the shield.


    After a moment that it took him to regain his balance, the enemy was already standing. The warrior only continued to prove that he was tougher than expected, when he parried and blocked all the initial attacks of Ymdaton. Crewslayer was forced to study his opponent more closely, since the rash approach did not work. Soon he noticed that enemy¡¯s right elbow guard came off, it''s leather strap was probably damaged when he fell off his mount. There was no chain under that piece of armour.


    Few more feints and Ymdaton finally tricked the for into making a too wide swing forward. He then delivered a clean cut into the elbow. It was a fine blow, he almost severed the arm at the joint. The foe was shocked for a moment and Crewslayer hit him with a butt of an axe to the head. Surprisingly, the enemy did not fall, only staggered. Ymdaton admired his resilience and made another hit. It drove the man to his knees. Another one was used to bring him to his knees and hands. Only the fourth blow finally made him lie flat.


    Crewslayer was not taking any chances, he torn the helmet of opponent¡¯s head, revealing a bloodied face of a man with a long mane of red hair, braided so it would fit under the helm. He saw other warriors of Belosten coming to aid their comrade and cut foe¡¯s head off quickly, before anyone could reach him. A moment later he was in a whirlwind of melee, fending off several angry warriors at once.


    It was over pretty soon after Ymdaton slain the warrior in the white cape. Forces of Belosten were demoralized and made a retreat. They lost even more men as they fought their way out, but were ultimately able to get away. Crewslayer sat at the corpse of bakhmat, cleansing weapons of blood with a piece of linen cloth.


    He glanced at the now empty battlefield. It was carpeted with bodies of men and beasts. Naked ground of the road was soaked with gore, bark of closest trees was stained with red all over. Warriors were slowly walking among the dead, finishing off the wounded. Crewslayer never took liking in that practice, he freed from suffering those who were struck down by his own hand, but that was it.


    Azandahy approached him. Perhaps, he wanted to congratulate Ymdaton. According to the description, the man with long red hair was none other than Toogover, a fine kill scored. Pigeon faced stopped at hand¡¯s breadth and suddenly swung a fist at Crewslayer¡¯s head. Despite the attack being unexpected and his uncomfortable position, Ymdaton still managed to dodge, the fist flying past his left cheek.


    Azandahy fluently shifted his weight a bit more forward and his elbow crashed into warrior¡¯s face. Crewslayer rolled backwards, falling off bakhmat¡¯s side. He jumped up quickly and surged towards pigeon faced only to be caught and restrained by several crewmen. He struggled, to no success.


    ¡°What is the meaning of this?!¡± demanded Abimnupal, who somehow was already standing close with a concerned face, ¡°Explain yourself, Azandahy.¡±


    ¡°It is he who should explain himself. He destroyed our valuable asset,¡± said pigeon faced in a most calm voice.


    ¡°What is your problem?¡± growled Ymdaton.


    ¡°You¡¯ve killed someone you shouldn''t have to. Toogover is dead by your hand.¡±


    ¡°Warlord of Belosten, the enemy of knez, I did to him what I do to all enemies of Azytenisar,¡± spat Crewslayer.


    ¡°You killed the stupid, rash, impatient man. He was easy to manipulate, we could have tricked him into bringing us victory many times. Now he is dead. What if someone with actual tactical sensitivity replaces him? Did you think of it?¡± Azandahy looked him in the eyes coldly.


    Ymdaton was silent and only gritted his teeth.


    ¡°Of course you didn''t. That would not be your style, you dumb gloryshark. You kill everyone whose skull is worth something and then think. You will not be allowed to fight again until enemies reach our gates. I will see to it. Now let him go. Let him hit me, if he wants. Let him prove his stupidity further.¡±


    Crewmen released Ymdaton. Azandahy did not flinch a single muscle as the man whom he humiliated was standing free in front of him. Crewslayer did not swing his fists, or charge forward. He silently picked up his axe and shield, sat upon the dead bakhmat and continued cleansing his arms as if nothing happened. The crowd dissolved, when they understood that nothing of interest would happen. Abimnupal shook his head sadly and left his friend alone with his thoughts.

 Interlude III, Pt I: Unspoken

    His first step was made carefully, as if entering the lair of the beast. The boy closed the door behind him with caution, producing the least noise possible. As a hunter who fears to alert his quarry, he walked quietly, planning his pace beforehand. Ymdaton halted and listened. Not a sound was heard inside the house. He continued, slipping through empty chambers undetectably. He was close to his destination when, walking around the corner, he nearly crashed into a bald serf. The boy cursed with words which were more for adult¡¯s lips


    ¡°Don¡¯t you ever creep on me like this, Ahisys¡± said he, easing his posture. In a moment of surprise he assumed the battle stance before even thinking.


    ¡°I did not creep on you, master Ymdaton. I was going on my business when you suddenly jumped on me¡± the servant smiled peacefully, ¡°Master Hamisbyr ordered me to tell you he wishes to see you.¡±


    ¡°That this was exactly the thing I tried to avoid,¡± the boy made a sour face.


    ¡°This is your father, you are ought to obey,¡± said the serf in mentoring tone.


    ¡°Where is he now?¡±


    ¡°Inner yard.¡±


    His father was sitting upon a bench, his head lowered. He had a short single edged knife in his hand, carving something out of wood with it.


    ¡°Do you know, why I did call you?¡± asked he.


    Ymdaron shook his head. Next moment he understood that Hamisbyr could not see his gesture, for he did not raise his eyes.


    ¡°I thought so,¡± continued his father, as if he knew the answer anyway, ¡°It is the day of Meeting in the West soon. You would like to write your mother a letter, I suppose.¡±


    The boy swore at himself quietly. He totally forgot about the holiday among his harsh training routine.


    ¡°You know, cursing does not make you more of a man,¡± said Hamisbyr, ¡°Here are tools for you. All sanctified, all temple made,¡± nodded he to the edge of the bench where lied a piece of parchment, a quill and a small pot of ink.


    Taking these things, Ymdaton returned to the house quickly, leaving his father who still would not even give him a look.


    He was sitting in his room, gazing at the parchment which was spread before him. In his hands was a wet writing tool. In his head were whirling thoughts, so numerous, that even a fat scroll would not be enough to contain them. He was confused and stared at the creamy fabric in front of him without moving for a long time. Finally, he found a phrase to cling to.


    Dear beloved Mother. I hope you are having nice time at the West. We were sending you coins all this time and you never had any debts that I heard of. So I suppose you are doing well. I miss you a lot. Sometimes I can still hear your voice in my dreams. I hear you telling me stories, stories of heroes and monsters, of journeys and wars. You know, father is not like you, he doesn¡¯t like to tell stories. He doesn¡¯t talk much at all. I suppose he misses you as much as i do, but he will speak to you in his own letter.


    I know that there is no sailing back from the West. But if you could help me somehow. You became close to the stars there where you live now. You can not come and help me anymore, but if you could ask one of them to give me a hint at what I should do.


    You understood father well. He was happy and talkative and smiling when you were around. He is not like this now. I do not understand him and he does not understand me. I think I did not turn out like he wanted me to be. I aspire to be a warrior, like him, like men in tales you told me. But he does not want to hear about it. I know it is not right to disobey father, yet I can not go against my heart¡¯s desire. I am confused. I need an advice.


    I love you, Mother. I would give anything just to be in your embrace one more time. I know that is impossible though. So take care of yourself and have a splendid life at the West, while I¡¯ll try to do my best here.


    Two days later the son and the father were standing side by side in the docks of Isary. They were but two of the numerous crowd: parents and children, husbands and wives, loners who were mostly of advanced age. Everyone awaited the signal to board the ship.


    ¡°Have you finished your letter or are you planning to brood over it the whole way, like you did last year?¡± asked Hamisbyr.


    ¡°It is done,¡± said Ymdaton, making an offended face.


    His father reached into the pouch and produced a brass cylinder. He tossed it at his son. Ymdaton catched it and twisted it in his hands. At the side of it dots were embossed. The pattern was in fact the image of western part of the sky, which could be observed few days later. The boy unscrewed the top of the cylinder, revealing it to be a hollow tube. He put inside a rolled piece of sanctified parchment and closed the capsule again.


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    Soon it was the boarding time. The ship a typical Kinani vessel: two separate hulls fixed together with beams, wooden deck almost square in shape was put above them. In the middle of it, between the hulls was a cabin. It home to the crew and passengers for the time of travel. Three sails shaped like triangles with somewhat curved edges were being raised at the moment. Two bows of the ship were adorned with carved figures of sea monsters. One had horns, but possessed no eyes, the other boasted huge bulbous eyes, but no horns at all. It was not the biggest ship, but not the smallest one either. It was carrying about thirty passengers, not counting the crew, and there was still enough room for everyone.


    Their journey was not a long one. The ship simply travelled after the sun. Passengers were all about their business. Some were writing on parchment, unable to put their thoughts into letters, just like Ymdaton was before.


    Some played Ymqirib, a traditional game which took place on a board consisting of a dozen of intersecting circles of various sizes. Players moved pebbles of different sizes along the circles, taking turns. Pebbles represented warships, circles represented their courses, and the game itself was a simulation of a naval battle. Whoever successfully boarded or incapacitated all the enemy vessels, did win.


    Many amused themselves by ogling citizens of the sea, who followed the ship. Dolphins, flying fish, turtles and even sharks provided company to them. Ymdaton himself spent much time observing various creatures that could be seen in clear waters.


    There was a musician on board. On a third day of travel he played and sung for passengers and crew. His instrument was square shaped, with horn-like curved arms and a crossbar between them, which held the strings. His song was about Surbyr, a kinani merchant who sailed so far to the north, that the sun showed there only half the year, while the other half was dark entirely. It told of his adventures and battles against creatures of the night, and treasures that he brought home.


    At the dawn of the fifth day the reached Miwon, one of the westernmost kinani domains. It was a city of worship, three times smaller than Ysari, yet housing three times more shrines.


    As evening came, the father and the son found a quiet place upon the western shore of the island. It was not so easy, for last seven days people from all Hundred Isles arrived there in order to celebrate Meeting in the West. The beach was teeming with people. An unoccupied piece that they found was cut off with boulders, so they climbed in order to reach there. The reward was a shoreline where they could be alone for a while.


    Hamisbyr unfolded a package that he carried with him. Inside was a fruit of his woodwork: a tiny boat which looked exactly like the one which brought them there. Ymdaton¡¯s father put inside the cabin a bronze tube, similar to the one that he gave to the boy. His son did the same afterwards. Finally, the father produced a large golden coin out of his bag. It was as wide as a man¡¯s palm, its head was blank, masterfully polished, while its tail was dented, mimicking scars which could be seen upon moon. It was a sumyr, a ceremonial coin used for offerings. The man hid it in the cabin alongside letters.


    A small lamp was placed aft on the deck. Hamisbyr ignited it, using the torch that he brought with him. When later hours of the evening arrived, he went into the water until it reached his waist. There he left the boat.


    They were standing silently, watching as ship¡¯s lantern glimmered upon the dark surface of the sea. It was not the only light that reflected on the water. It was surrounded by wavering glares that stars from above created. Most important among them today were Nisirask and Ytenisar, former making his curved course in the west, while the later arrived from across the sea above. They were meeting for a single day each year. They discussed the matters of departed souls: who deserved a peaceful afterlife and who was to be put into service, so he could earn it.


    Soon the water began to retreat to the west. Step by step, slowly, the shoreline moved further away, leaving a naked seabed in its wake. Hamisbyr and Ymdaton watched as the glimmer of their small boat moved away with the water, until it discerned from dots of starlight. When it finally vanished, they left their spot and headed back for the town. Not a word was said between them during that evening.

 Interlude III, Pt II: True Nature

    The city was full of light and people. They were moving through streets in crowds, singing songs, shouting and celebrating. Many of them were already merry from the strong wine. Hamisbyr led his son through less popular avenues, where they met someone only occasionally. When the two almost reached the house where they were lodging, they stumbled upon four armed warriors. They were obviously drunk, judging by the tone of their conversation. The street was too narrow so that crewmen barred the path forward completely.


    ¡°Can you please let us pass, good men,¡± asked Hamisbyr in an overly polite tone. Warriors did not seem to notice him at all. He cleared his throat loudly, in order to draw attention.


    ¡°Damn foreigners swarming our city,¡± spat one of them, ¡°Go find another way, these streets are not yours.¡±


    ¡°As you say,¡± Ymdaton¡¯s father made a forced smile, ¡°Please, honoured warriors, let your humble guests pass.¡±


    ¡°To the fathoms with hospitality,¡± said another man, ¡°Go away, you irritating us.¡±


    ¡°Listen,¡± Hamisbyr let out a sigh, ¡°You know what day it is. I was just reminded of the person I¡¯ve lost and miss still. I am not in the mood. Move away, I don¡¯t want to blemish the holiday.¡±


    ¡°Oh, a tough talk,¡± chuckled the warrior who answered first, ¡°And who are you to threaten us? There are four of us and one and a half of you,¡± he pointed at Ymdaton with contempt.


    The boy gritted his teeth. The father made a sign for him to calm down.


    ¡°I am Hamisbyr, a warrior of the third crew in service to great house Abeneewy,¡± proclaimed he.


    ¡°I heard of Abeneewy, but never heard of you,¡± said the man, ¡°Now get lost.¡±


    The father did not move a step. The warrior who was threatening him stepped forth and swung his fist. Hamisbyr dodged the blow. Ymdaton was dumbstruck. He wanted to help his father, but also knew he would be useless in a brawl between grown men. The events before him accelerated and he did not quite understood what happened next.


    The foe was drunk, yet moved with some degree of technique, which even the alcohol could not take away from the warrior. Hamisbyr made a kick at opponent''s lower side, which the man saw and attempted to block. Next moment, father¡¯s leg was raised high and stretched, hitting the enemy to the defenseless head. The warrior fell, getting a knee to the temple in the process, which knocked him out completely.


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    In a single fluent movement, Ymdaton''s father pulled a short spear, which was strapped to man¡¯s back, and before the unlucky crewman even hit the ground, he faced the other three with the weapon in hands. Drunkards attacked at once, unsheathing their own blades. Hamisbyr moved between them, avoiding blows with ease. One of foes got land swept from under his feet by the spear, the other one was uppercut by a shaft, and the third one got his back exposed, instantly being punished by two hits: one to the back of the knee and one to the back of the head.


    All of this happened in but few heartbeats. Hamisbyr stood victorious, totally unfazed by the fight. Around him lie four defeated fools, yet not a drop of their blood was shed to achieve that. He cast away the spear and, grabbing his son by the hand, quickly left the site of the skirmish. As Ymdaton was dragged through the streets, tears rolled down his cheeks. Hamisbyr noticed it quickly.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡± asked he, ¡°I haven¡¯t seen you cry since your were five, no matter the hardship. What are you wetting your eyes for?¡±


    ¡°I,¡± Ymdaton sobbed, ¡°I am terribly sorry, so sorry,¡± the words were being stuck in his throat. His father gave him some time to regain composure, not saying anything, ¡°I am sorry for ever doubting you,¡± finally managed to spit he, ¡°I thought you to be a mediocrity, for you never tell of your deeds and denied any rumours about you. But you are real. You are the unmatched warrior, like these in songs.¡±


    Hamysbir sighed.


    ¡°Can you please train me? Old Yehoum did not show anything remotely close to what you did today,¡± asked the boy, feeling his father being open for once.


    ¡°I did everything to stop you from becoming a crewman,¡± said his father, ¡°But here we are. I am cornered, I can not lie to you anymore. I guess, it is in your blood after all. If I can not change your fate, I will help you to meet it properly,¡± he made a pause and so did the boy''s heart, ¡°I will teach you what I know when we return to Isary.¡±


    Ymdatons face brightened with a smile. Tears stopped, he shrugged to keep his nose from leaking.


    ¡°It will be hard. It will be ten times harsher than at Yehoum''s place.¡±


    ¡°I am ready,¡± whispered the boy, feeling proud of his father and warm inside for the first time in many years.

 Chapter XXIX: War of Stories

    ¡°Open the gates! Open the gates, in the name of knez!¡±


    The old innkeeper shudder, as if he heard thunder. It was a troublesome evening for him. Canny Bear drinking house was always a place popular with warriors. The reason was the man himself, who used to be a militiaman before he got his knee hurt. Using the fortune that he acquired in battle, he bought a house and turned it into an inn. His comrades in arms often came to tell of their exploits. There were no comrades today.


    Ostrovyani began arriving at the dusk. They came and came, until the main hall was filled with crewmen. There were some militia in the beginning, but as the night moved closer, they left, feeling the crowd to be alien. Islanders, on the other hand, enjoyed themselves. They drank, laughed, sung songs, discussed something loudly. They were shouting and waving hands at the innkeeper brazenly, when they made their orders. They threw payment in golden coins, so that it rung and rolled on the table. They were joking with the owner and not everything they said could be swallowed easily.


    They were acting as if they were at home. They were acting as masters. Innkeeper¡¯s composure was falling to pieces as a decrepit timber. He was beginning to jump at every noise, snap at every jest. It was no surprise that when the shouting outside came, he started to shake nervously, as if some fever struck him.


    ¡°Open the damn gates!¡± voice from the street demanded, ¡°Open it, already!¡± agreed the crowd inside.


    A man came through the doors, a rich ostrovyani warrior, judging by his clothes.


    ¡°Open the gates,¡± said he to the innkeeper, ¡°Boys got tired of your sweet, slow flowing spirit. We brought something better.¡±


    Mumbling curses quietly, the owner of the drinking house limped forth and opened the gates to the street. They were placed beside the regular entrance in case something massive was to be brought in or out. Something massive was there indeed, at the beginning of the wooden ramp that led to the gates. The wealthy warrior hurried to help other men who were awaiting him outside and together they rolled in an immense barrel.


    With some effort they raised it in the middle of the hall. It was too tall to reach its top from the floor, so they moved one of the tables closer. The rich warrior climbed it with a wooden ladle in hands. He opened the barrel and started pouring the beverage into mugs of crewmen, who crowded around the table. It was a strong wine of deep red color.


    ¡°All hail Ahyq, the boozebringer!¡± yelled someone from the crowd, raising his mug. Warriors apparently liked the saying and proceeded to chant it. The wealthy warrior gave a courtly bow to the public and then saluted with his mug.


    ¡°Now tell us, how comes that you are in the city,¡± asked someone, ¡°Sumiaton never stayed a full day here, since the war started. He is always somewhere in the forest, bringing wrath upon heads of land dwellers. But here you are, his most trusty supporter.¡±


    ¡°He is quite busy, that¡¯s true,¡± told Ahyq, ¡°He is not present today and I bet he would like to tell you of his, ours exploits. Fortunately, I got myself few days of a leave, so I can narrate instead.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got a leave to see your forester girl, you are not fooling anyone,¡± laughed someone.


    ¡°Do not speak nonsense, would I leave battlefield for a woman? I, Ahyq, the dealer of death!


    Anyway, here is one story for you.


    This moon the Venator¡¯s mission was to slow advancing forces of Ovrajin. They were numerous and I wondered, how did he plan to hinder them with barely more than a crew. He led us by the road to Ovrajin and that was when his decisions became weird. He did not intend to face the enemy directly. We turned and left the road, entering the forest. It was looking like Sumiaton planned an ambush. He did not stop though and we walked quite deep into the green, as far as an arrow flight and even further.


    This was when warriors started asking questions. You see, when you fight alongside the monster hunter for a long time, you get used to his unconventional methods. His ideas soar high, he never ceases to surprise a simple warrior like me. But it was still weird. We submerged into the woods where at every step you was watched by spirits. Whatever his idea was, it invoked a lot of risk.


    Finally, he ordered a halt. There we waited for an explanation. Instead of talking, Sumiaton examined the trees around. Some he passed by, shaking his head, but some he marked. He drew lines in the soil with his sword, which pointed away from the trunk. Three dozens of trees were branded this way.


    His instructions were even weirder. Using ropes, we bent one of the trees in the carved direction. When it touched the ground, we secured it in place with more ropes and wooden wedges. He told us to do it to all trees that he marked, and then we would see the result. And so we did.


    There was no result though. We bent all trees in appointed directions, but instead he gave more orders. He told us how to bend and weave together branches around the tops of lying trees. When it was done, weaved branches resembled a pocket or a sack. He told us to do it to every tree and then we would see the result. And so we did.


    There was no result still. When all the branches were weaved, he told us to cut down two iron trees which stood nearby. When they fell, he marked the trunks and told us to saw them by the marks. And so trunks were divided equally. Then we were told to put the produced pieces into branch pockets. And then we waited.


    The day passed, then the night, and on the next day the sentry reported that the enemy was coming. It was then that Sumiaton commanded a man to come to each tree and cut ropes simultaneously. All the three dozen creaked and straightened at the same time, not being held by anything. Pockets of branches were swung up and pieces of heavy wood inside them were hurled far away.


    Sumiaton then led us to the road and when we stepped upon it, we saw the result. Bodies of men and bakhmats lied everywhere, crashed by the wooden hail. Pieces of iron wood that we launched came with such force, that they dug deep into the soil. Enemy ranks were in disarray, shocked and thinned by unexpected attack from above. We charged those who still stood immediately and delivered a great punishment upon them.  I¡¯ve met an immense warrior there, whose helmet was adorned with a skull of a wild boar. He should have been a famous one.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard about him. Yaroglyad, champion of Ovrajin. It is said that he got the skull by killing the beast with his bare hands,¡± said Hasdruhy.


    ¡°Anyway, he died there and then by my blade,¡± continued Ahyq.


    ¡°So you simply threw timber at them and then gutted survivors. What a deed! I¡¯d rather hear what Azandahy has to tell,¡± shouted someone from the crowd.


    ¡°There is not much to talk about in my latest battle,¡± said pigeon face who was sitting in the corner.


    ¡°Common, I¡¯ve heard that you slaughtered thirty five foes by yourself,¡± a drunk voice came from the crowd.


    ¡°It was twenty,¡± Azandahy smiled coldly.


    ¡°It was twenty nine, I was there and counted corpses that bore marks of your famous spiked mace,¡± laughed a crewman beside him.


    ¡°It was twenty eight. Twenty ninths one was only finished by me, someone already slashed him before. Anyway, ¡° his mood seemed to become a bit warmer, ¡°If you want to hear a story that much, I¡¯ll tell you something. It is not the glorious tale of battle, like the previous one. Yet it is memorable to me.


    I was leading a mixed party to ambush forces of Velmytop. There were some crewmen with me, but mostly it consisted of militia. We were moving through the forest proper, avoiding roads. It was a necessary measure, for my plan required us to arrive unseen. It made my men quite nervous, especially locals. They did not disobey, no. But they were ever anxious, jumping at every sound, advancing slowly.


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    One day when we were about to leave our camp and move on, I noticed that six land crawlers were missing. I asked everyone of their whereabouts. No one answered me. I asked again, still in vain. Then I told that we would leave regardless, with or without them. Finally one of militiamen approached me and promised to show me where missing ones were.


    He led me some distance away from the camp and there, in the bushes, we found all six warriors. They were sitting, all holding their hands in their mouths. I asked them to explain themselves. No one answered. Some turned their gazes away ashamedly, some did ignore me totally.  I approached one of them and ordered him to take his hand out and tell me what was happening. He shook his head, disagreeing. I told him that I have every right to cut him right there for disobeying orders.


    Slowly, he put his hand down. He sat there silently for some time and then began choking. The man who guided me yelled something about the tongue. I took a guess and forced open his mouth. He swallowed his own tongue, indeed. I grabbed it and dragged it back to its proper place. The man thrashed at me in shock but I would not let him go. I held him for quite some time and when I felt that he was through, released him.


    The man now could talk. He thanked me and finally explained that those six friends tasted the syrup which is produced by boiling leafs of a certain plant. They probably consumed too much of it and faced the deadly haze that engulfed their minds and bodies.


    That was when I decided that those men had no place in my party. You dared to compromise plans of great knez with your debauchery, I told them. Now their survival was to be compromised by it. I told them that they are dismissed and are to reach back to Khladnetz on their own. And then we left them. I saw disapproval in eyes of other militia, yet no one dared to object.¡±


    ¡°Did they reach the city?¡± asked a man from the crowd.


    ¡°No, and nothing was heard of them since then.¡±


    Silence fell over the hall.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± continued Azandahy, trying to switch the subject, after he saw the reaction, ¡°I¡¯d like you to hear the tale of Abimnupal. His is truly the epic story, unlike those you heard this far.¡±


    ¡°Give me a moment,¡± grinned Abimnupal and emptied his mug in one gulp, ¡°It is a weird one.


    I was leading my squad to perform an attack in the dead of night. We sneaked to the enemy camp just well and were about to commence slaughter, when I noticed a strange thing. It was completely silent and scarcely lit. Bonfires were mostly extinguished, out of fuel. Every single enemy soldier slept, even those on watch. I would have been happy to meet the lack of discipline among foes, yet the situation was suspicious. We walked into the camp freely, no one being awake to stop us. That was when the thing attacked.


    It wounded two men and killed three more before we could even see what was our enemy. It came for me not before long and I saw glimpses of its image. Greyish hunched human-like figure, it possessed three pairs of legs: two regular limbs, two were growing out of its belly, and to more out of its lower back. It did not as much walk or run, as it rolled around, switching the pairs of legs on which it stood. Its hands below elbows were covered in multicolored fur. Men whose skin was touched by those hairs fell down and convulsed. It did not have head. Upon its shoulders was a stump out of which grew several tentacles and two jagged bony spurs, resembling antlers. When the tentacles touched something, these antlers snapped together, like shears, cutting off limbs and heads.


    It came so fast that I barely managed to keep it away with my axe. It was gone just as quickly. It did not run through our ranks, no, it appeared here, took a life, and disappeared, only to show up again in the other place. Although I wounded it slightly, I was not successful at catching the thing again, its chaotic movement kept me on defensive. We were losing men, one after another. Soon it became apparent that I would be left alone and then the freak would make a short work of me.


    A chance helped us. One of crewmen struck a sleeping sentry when the monster dodged his blow. The man woke only to understand that his chest was carved open and die immediately. The moment sleep left him, the thing which tried to attack me at the same time staggered for a heartbeat. It was enough for me to make a wide swing, severing its left arm clean off. It ran off to the shadows again.


    I looked around and saw what happened to the sleeping sentry. An idea came to my mind that moment. Wake up the enemies, or kill them, I don¡¯t care which, yelled I. And my men did as it was commanded. The beast panicked, it tried to protect sleepers, yet I was ever after it. Warriors cut and stabbed foes in sleep and with each one who was gone, the monster was becoming weaker.


    I dealt few more wounds to it and then tricked it into catching my axe with its antler-jaws. When it locked upon the weapon, hoping to get my arm, I dragged it towards me and gutted it with my dagger. It let go of the blade, but, too late. It bled and barely moved, so I kicked it down and finished it with the axe.


    When it died we saw enemy soldiers waking up all around, but there was only a handful of them left and we slaughtered sleepy survivors as well. This way the forest spirit helped us to destroy the formation which outnumbered us five to one.¡±


    Crewmen cheered and took a round. Some chanted Abimnupal¡¯s name.


    ¡°Now why would not Ymdaton tell us a story?¡± someone proposed.


    Crewslayer felt as if he just woke upon hearing his name. He was sitting there in the inn for the whole evening, yet everything felt so distant. He saw crewmen drinking and celebrating, telling stories and jokes, without really thinking of it. He looked at them as one can look at the sea, observing the waves, listening to its noise, submerged in his own thoughts. Abimnupal dragged him to the drinking house almost by force. His friend told he needed some unwinding. If anything, the place full of loudmouthed warriors only plunged him deeper into brooding. And now they wanted him to talk.


    ¡°You all know pretty well that I was banned from action for the whole war,¡± mumbled he.


    ¡°Yes, it is so, but you saw some splendid things in the very beginning of it. You came face to face with the city protector, they say,¡± addressed him Hasdruhy, ¡°What it was like?¡±


    Ymdaton did not say a word, yet the crowd insisted, pressing him with encouraging shouts. He stood up suddenly.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell what it was like,¡± spat he angrily, ¡°I looked it in the eyes. I saw something I can not defeat, you can not defeat, we together can not defeat. Something that is so far above and beyond a man, that if it choose to fight us personally, we would be done for. Be thankful that it is not interested enough.¡±


    Everyone was silent.


    ¡°Do I hear fear in your voice?¡± asked a drunken crewman from the other side of the hall, ¡°I do not believe that the man that I heard so many stories about is a coward.¡±


    Crewslayer inhaled violently. He prepared a most vicious retort, yet stopped before his first word could come. His eyes suddenly glimmered with assurance, for the first time in several moons. Instead of an answer he made a slow peaceful exhale.


    ¡°Perhaps, I am a coward,¡± spoke he calmly after a moment, ¡°But you know, who is more of a coward than me? The one who fears to accept his limits.¡±


    After saying this, Ymdaton walked out of the inn with sure determined gait, leaving the crowd to ponder upon his words.

 Chapter XXX: From the Depths

    Ymdaton returned to Radomir¡¯s house, which was mostly empty. The owner was away on some business, his family was sent away to Obrejin as soon as rumours about the war arrived, the lodging men were all spending their evening somewhere. Only serfs were present and they probably understood Crewslayer¡¯s mood well enough to not disturb them. The only living soul to meet him in the courtyard him was Spoosh.


    ¡°Why do you keep coming?¡± asked he the cat, which was brushing against his boot. Ymdaton gently pushed the animal away and entered the house.


    When he came back with a bowl of milk in hands, Spoosh was still waiting for him patiently. He put down the bowl and sat on the porch. The warrior looked how the cat was rhythmically scooping the milk with its tongue.


    ¡°You know,¡± said he thoughtfully, ¡°I am constantly telling you to go away because it is what I expect myself to say. I am a crewman. I am ever away from home. I do not have time to look after a cat.¡±


    Spoosh raised his muzzle which was covered in milk and glanced at the human for some moments, before continuing his feast.


    ¡°But then I still feed you everyday. Why? Because despite what I am saying, despite what I am trying to convince myself to believe¡­ It¡¯s what I truly think is right¡± he was silent for some moments, ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Next morning Ymdaton was standing before the house of knez.


    ¡°Tell him Crewslayer has come,¡± said he.


    ¡°Master is not awake yet, come later,¡± told him the guard with the most obtuse face possible.


    ¡°I know that you are lying. Azytenisar gets up early. Go, tell him.¡±


    ¡°I was instructed to not let any visitors in. Master will have a busy day, he do not have time for you.¡±


    ¡°Now listen,¡± Crewslayer sighed, ¡°You know who I am, right? There are songs about me ringing through the streets. I have few equals across your whole accursed forest. Now when Khladnetz loses this war, you are free to blame yourself for not letting me in that day. For not letting the warrior of my prowess to aid knez in most important battles.¡±


    The guard drilled him with a gaze for few moments.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go and ask.¡±


    Soon Ymdaton was standing before his lord in private chambers. Azytenisar was obviously recently awoken, wearing only a simple robe, his beard messy and uncombed.


    ¡°You better have a good reason to demand an audience this early. And you better lay it out quickly,¡± said he.


    ¡°I want an appointment. I want to lead a disruption attack,¡± said Ymdaton, carefully keeping words passionless.


    ¡°For what purpose? You were involved in one and you failed it spectacularly,¡± uttered Azytenisar, regarding the warrior with a piercing stare.


    ¡°Everybody makes mistakes. I want a chance at fixing mine.¡±


    ¡°If repairing your reputation is the only case here, then I¡¯d better keep you in the city still,¡± said knez without any hint of accusation.


    Ymdaton was silent for some time.


    ¡°Not exactly this,¡± finally answered he, ¡°I thought about that. Song crafters probably will not understand the very concept of leaving your enemy alive as a benefit in war. They will show me as a mighty champion slaying the enemy warlord in a single combat. They probably did already. So in terms of a good name I am even better now. I see now that there are noble things which should be done, yet which would not fit into tales. And now I want to do what I feel right, not what people think to be right.¡±


    It was Azytenisar''s turn to keep silence.


    ¡°Fine, you¡¯ll have your second chance. However you can only recruit drevlyani warriors which were trained by you.¡±


    ¡°That will do,¡± Ymdaton bowed deeply, ¡°Thank you, my lord, I will not disappoint.¡±


    The only force on the move was an army of crickets. Their battle was made without violence, contesting with noise that rolled through the cold air of midnight. Those miniscule warmongers shared wet grass and pale starshine with another armed group. A squad of drevlyani enjoyed the halt, regaining forces for the march next day. Only several sentries kept their watch.


    Powers of the woods were seemingly absent, leaving creatures of the forest to roam in peace and humans to murder each other without assistance.


    One of the sentinels was lucky to get a company, making the duty a bit less boring. He scanned blueish shadows between dark shadows of trees, while talking to a man beside him.


    ¡°So how are we going to stop fellas from Ovrajin, my dear seafarer?¡±


    ¡°Have you heard the story of Woostin city?¡± asked him Ymdaton.


    ¡°Can¡¯t recall.¡±


    ¡°Strange. I thought this was a well known piece of Drevlyani lore. An old servant at Dragomir¡¯s household told me it.


    Long ago, before the coming of guardians, your kind attempted building first cities in Odwitchni.


    Woostin was one of those settlements. It was built on a shore of Zlena river. For several years the town prospered, it¡¯s thick walls protecting people from evil spirits.


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    But one day an army marched out of the current. Ugly things they were, slithering, scaly, with bulbous eyes. They besieged the town and were repelled only at thr cost of great casualties.


    A week later a second attack came. Terrifying warriors as huge as a mead barrel rode out of the river on wide-mawed hooved fish. Both riders and mounts were armoured in glistering plates of the depths. They nearly broke the defences of Woostin, many brave warriors dying in that battle.


    But that wasn¡¯t the end. The third attack came. Water itself rose and marched to war, pummeling walls, squishing men.


    There was no chance of victory anymore and few survivors fled the city.


    Drevlyani never built a town on the shore since the fall of Woostin. That¡¯s why your main sources of water are springs and rains.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a fascinating fairytale which sounds like an elaborate warning to not stay near rivers for long. Don¡¯t draw the attention of wodby. They can be terrifying. But I doubt the whole thing is truth. And how is it related to our mission?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve just answered all your questions. I¡¯ll show you how the lore could help in war.¡±


    Two armies were passing through Odwitchni. Armored riders with features slightly hazy were gliding on the surface of a forest pond, a squad after squad of armed reflections. Their real counterparts were moving slowly above, on the narrow passage between a whole green wall of ancient trees and the body of water.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong? You didn¡¯t say a word for the whole day,¡± one of militia asked a comrade who rode beside him.


    ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re lying.¡±


    ¡°My cousin¡­ I spent my whole childhood with him, as if we were blood brothers. He was killed. I received the news with the latest runner we met.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Damned invaders! Soon we¡¯ll make them pay.¡±


    ¡°He wasn¡¯t killed by a foreigner. The word was he died by a hand of militiaman from Khladnetz.¡±


    ¡°How low did they fall. Murdering own kin as beasts do. Listen, Trived. Soon we will reach Khladnetz. Soon we will make them pay for all the atrocities. With the help of Guardian their diversions did not stop us. Now nothing will save them. No space left to maneuver. Just few¡­¡±


    The warrior was cut off by shouts from the head of the force. Unintelligible at first, they soon turned into words.


    ¡°Wodby! Wodby are upon us!¡±


    ¡°Curses! And I thought the forest will leave us alone.¡±


    The disturbance seemed to come from the pond, which was still several dozen steps ahead of Trived and his friend. The tight road did not allow them to ride onwards and assist fellow warriors, so the only choice was to wait.


    They waited when screams of pain exploded not so far away.


    They waited when bakhmats started to panic.


    They waited, doing their best to keep the animals calm.


    They waited when the ranks before them shifted, suggesting the skirmish which wasn¡¯t yet seen.


    They waited.


    They waited some more thought the time that oozed like honey.


    Then the mount just in front of Trived reared, throwing its rider down.


    Between the broken ranks creatures charged. Mocking the human form, their bodies were made of mud, soil, algae.


    Trived swung his sword at one of them. The thing parried with a dirty cleaver, slamming its shield of corroded metal into man¡¯s hip. Next moment it dragged the shocked warrior out of the saddle.


    His friend tried to save Trived, but was cut off by more creatures that seemed to swarm from all sides.


    ¡°Retreat! Retreat!¡± rang the order through the air.


    The warrior hesiated. He pulled reigns to ride back. Then he stopped and pushed to help the fallen comrade. Then he pulled back again. Then forth once more. Finally, with a heavy heart, he turned and rode alongside the retreating force.


    He did not look back, but heard wodby murder those who were not quick to disengage. Yet none of them pursued. Perhaps, monsters were satisfied with defending their territory.


    Another good man lost. Those in Khladnetz should pay, thought he. Today the price became heavier once again, thought he. Now it¡¯s my duty to make them pay it, thought he.


    When the enemy troops vanished behind curls of the road, Ymdaton commenced to cleaning his armour of mud.


    ¡°That was a nice work,¡± said a militiamen beside him, who was equally dirty.


    ¡°You did well too,¡± smiled Ymdaton, ¡°I¡¯m glad my training worked, you became ferocious warriors. No mercy, no doubts.¡±


    ¡°How did you come up with this, it is a wonderful idea, breathing through it¡± said the man raising a hand with a stick of reed in it.


    ¡°A friend showed me it,¡± answered Ymdaton.


    ¡°We halted their advance for some time. It will be several days before they dare to pass this lake by again.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but they will come eventually. It is at most eight days before siege begins. Then we all will have a true opportunity to prove ourselves.¡±

 Chapter XXXI: Meeting; the Goals

    Few times Ymdaton saw a siege through defender¡¯s eyes. Kinani were the attackers, raiders, invaders, but rarely the besieged. His scarce experience of fortified warfare however, did not prepare him for the siege of Khladnetz. He expected anxiety among citizens, the air of unease, heavy silence born of grim expectations.


    As he strode through the streets, heading for the northern gates, he saw the city continuing its everyday life bravely. Merchants were heading for the market, their carries transporting various goods, mothers were taking walks with their infants, while children of more advanced age ran around, played, laughed.


    The day was going to be busy. There was a war council today and he was expected to attend it. It was supposed to happen in a mansion among fields, closer to the forest¡¯s edge. Perhaps it would have been more reasonable to take a bakhmat and ride there, but Ymdaton¡¯s passion for walks persisted still.


    There was another thing he wanted to do before arriving at the council. Yesterday a runner brought a sealed scroll to him. Inside was an invitation from Sumiaton. For some reason the venator die not send someone to tell him, neither visited in person. In the letter he asked Crewslayer to come to another house in the fields. The monster hunter moved there about the time the siege began.


    When Ymdaton arrived there, he instantly understood that Sumiaton wanted to show him something. At some distance from the building were gathered kinani warriors in strength of about one and a half crew. They were practicing, assuming various battle formations at the command of Ahyq, who was observing the ranks. They carried banners with an image of a torn eye hanging on a string of sinew. Some even had the emblem painted on their shields. That was a personal heraldry of the venator. Crewslayer quickly approached the house, not wanting to be noticed by those warriors and forced into conversation.


    He was led inside by a sefr. It was a huge mansion three storeys high, but it looked even more immense from the inside. Halls were all echoing, long, wide, with high ceilings. Ymdaton thought that it could give shelter to all the crewmen from the outside, if needed.


    Sumiaton was at the last storey, in his personal chambers. The room was draped with expensive carpets and blankets, so that not a piece of wooden walls could be seen. The venator sat at the table, some maps, plans, and scriptures spread before him. He was wearing full armour, majestic and vulgar at the same time. It was gilded precious metals, adorned with rare gems, covered in carvings, reliefs and embossment, its solid parts were sculpted to mimic the muscle beneath.


    ¡°Quite a mighty display outside,¡± said Ymdaton, trying to keep his tone neutral, ¡°But aren¡¯t you going too far, making others carry around your signs.¡±


    ¡°It is permitted by master Azytenisar,¡± waved his hand Sumiaton, ¡°It is a common practice at other islands for crews to have their own heraldry and banners. I don¡¯t know why the idea was never popular at Isary. I am pioneering it.¡±


    ¡°What do you want to talk about?¡± said Ymdaton, sitting himself on a chair.


    ¡°You know, I was keeping an eye on you for a long time, longer than you are with High Crew. I knew from the beginning that there is a great future for you. I knew, because we are similar.¡±


    ¡°Meaning?¡± raised his brow Ymdaton.


    ¡°Our upbringing gave us the similar longings. Our fathers were similar in some way.¡±


    ¡°You have no idea what kind of a man my father was.¡±


    ¡°Do not get offended, please,¡± smiled peacefully Sumiaton, ¡°What I mean is that we both were not given a solid foundation by our parents, everything that we achieved, was carved with out own strength, our names are built from nothing.¡±


    Ymdaton was silent and the venator continued.


    ¡°I¡¯ve conquered almost every pinnacle. I did everything I could save for starting my own noble house.¡±


    ¡°Do you plan on this?¡± grinned Crewslayer, his eyes staying cold.


    ¡°No,¡± said Sumiaton quickly, ¡°Not yet, at least. I have debts to Abeneewy that are yet to be repaid. I saw myself in you. And so I thought, that from my position I could help you to rise higher. If only you help me also,¡± he made a dramatic pause.


    ¡°Proceed,¡± urged him Ymdaton.


    ¡°If only you fight under my banner, I will lead you to battles of a kind which is yet unheard off. I will put you on battlefields where most splendid song will be forged. You will become a hero of kinani, whose deeds will echo through centuries. I have few plans concerning the subduing of this damn forest, which I will tell to my troops today. Join us at our council, before the council of lord Azytenisar begins, you will like what you will hear.¡±


    Now Crewslayer was keeping silence theatrically, almost mocking Simiaton with it.


    ¡°I know what you mean. It is true that your deeds in Odwitchni and before are grand, I do not expect anything less from you. But I was not a fisherman without a catch either. We are not the same.


    I am a warrior, all that I have was achieved with my blade.


    You, on the other hand, rarely get your hands dirty. You weave your plans, your tricks, your designs. Where I spend my own blood, you spend resources and human lives. Now you want my life also, so that you can buy some more glory for yourself with it. These ways of yours are the ways of lords. When they are used by an unlordly person, they evoke only repugnance.


    You are trying so hard to be what you are not. Only disaster can be born of this longing.


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    I refuse.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure about your decision?¡± there was a hint of anger on Sumiaton¡¯s face, but he quickly suppressed it.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°I understand. Then you should be going, the war council begins soon.¡±


    Ymdaton bid him farewell and left without hesitation.


    As he headed for the council, he saw three dozens of throwing machines deployed right among the fields. They were typical kinani engines with two levers, hurling immense pieces of timber at unseen enemies behind the wall that barred the road. Following Sumiaton¡¯s suggestion, rows of those machines were placed near every besieged fortification. They bombarded foes several times a day.


    The mansion where Azytenisar gathered his council was already seen. Everyone protested when knez moved to live but few arrow flights from the frontline, but he said that only there he could observe the war clearly. When Ymdaton entered the meeting hall, men inside were already discussing something.


    ¡°Enemies approached by three principal roads: the lake road, the south road and the road to Belosten,¡± said elected commander Likhobor, pointing at the massive map of the forest. It was placed on a low table, around which all the council gathered, ¡°According to my scouts, forces at the south and lake roads are rather small. While on the road to Belosten gathered the rest of the alliance army. It look like they are wishing to breach the walls there.¡±


    ¡°But how?¡± asked Azytenisar, ¡°How does your kind usually resolve a siege?¡±


    ¡°With attrition,¡± answered the commander, ¡°Siege engines like yours are unknown to us, the most advanced tool there being a battering ram. Usually one side would just deny the other resources so they do not have strength to fight. In Khladnetz, however, our rural lands are protected with walls, thanks to suggestion of ostrovyani, and now we can hold for years without starving.¡±


    ¡°Lulaton, what your spy says?¡± knez addressed his servant.


    ¡°The last news were that they tried to cut their way through the forest. They fear to simply walk through it. But Sumiaton''s engines disrupted the lumberworks and they abandoned the idea. Since then I can¡¯t get a messenger to return from enemy ranks, looks like they became so paranoid that they arrest even hunters,¡± reported Lulaton.


    ¡°The dugouts, though,¡± said Azandahy, ¡°They dug trenches at the road to Belosten. Those pits are protected by piles of soil and wooden plates. They can not be reached by siege engines or bows. Enemy soldiers crawl there, they are certainly up to something.¡±


    ¡°What could they be possibly up to,¡± said loudly Sumiaton. No one noticed when he came in, ¡°You heard it, forest dwellers know not a thing about siegeworks. They are probably planning to sneak through trenches, so they would not be flattened by projectiles or pierced with arrows, and then simply climb the wall. Or try to light it up with fire, or bring a ram. Nothing we couldn¡¯t deal with.¡±


    ¡°They stopped digging too far away, yet their troops keep systematically coming in and out dugouts. For what purpose? Tell me, o master of stinging words,¡± retorted Azandahy.


    ¡°I will not let this meeting to descend into another verbal brawl of yours. Behave yourselves or begone,¡± uttered lord of Abeneewy calmly, yet in the way that everyone heard his words.


    ¡°We should just go and see what they are doing,¡± told Lulaton with a smile, ¡°That may sound dull, yet it is the only way of knowing.¡±


    ¡°Closest parts of trenches are obscured by barricades. They are well protected against our eyes, as well as against our arrows,¡± said Azandahy.


    ¡°Recon by combat,¡± proposed Abimnupal.


    ¡°Suicidal, there are almost nine thousand warriors. They are camping on the road, so their ranks are stretched, yet there still will be enough to encircle and wipe out the scouting party. And I can not afford to send out a force of proper strength,¡± explained Azytenisar.


    ¡°Thank the stars, that they fear to leave their homes unprotected and brought only about two thirds of their warriors,¡± sighed Likhobor, ¡°It might have been even worse.¡±


    ¡°Infiltration in the dead of night, when only sentries won¡¯t sleep,¡± said Ymdaton, drawing everyone¡¯s attention, ¡°Sneak into their camp, kill whoever is awake and can oppose us, take a glance at the groundworks and leave back into the night. Move in and out through the forest, so there will be no chase, nor a need to open gates. You would not even put crews in danger this way, I can manage it with my drevlyani squad.¡±


    ¡°By the stars, you are insane,¡± smiled knez.


    ¡°That might work though,¡± scratched his temple Azandahy.


    ¡°Yeah, it might,¡± agreed Azytenisar.


    ¡°Permission, my lord?¡± asked Ymdaton with a grin.


    ¡°Granted. Just don¡¯t die there, I will need you later in this war,¡± told lord of Abeneewy.


    Ymdaton bowed to knez and the audience, and was on his way.


    Abimnupal catched up with him some distance away from the house.


    ¡°Do you want me to assist you?¡± asked he.


    ¡°Why would I? You have your own duties.¡±


    ¡°I can always ask to reassign me. You are going on a quite difficult mission,¡± he stopped for a moment, probably choosing a word, ¡°I rate your chances of survival as very low this time.¡±


    ¡°You say this every time,¡± laughed Ymdaton and slapped his friend upon the shoulder, ¡°And you are always wrong. Lets consider it an omen.¡±


    ¡°You are dreadfully playful with your own fate,¡± grimaced Abimnupal, ¡°Well, if it can¡¯t be helped, then stars be with you.¡±


    ¡°Stars be with me,¡± grinned Crewslayer.

 Chapter XXXII: White of Night

    It was a bit past midnight, Ymdaton¡¯s squad only made half the way through the forest. Traversing the woods in the night was no easy task when stars shone bright, moreso now, when the good weather which reigned during daytime gave way to clouds and thin cold rain. Unfriendly piercing wind was blowing, despite even through the treeline. When they left behind three fourths of the distance, the rain blended with the snow.


    ¡°Are forest spirits playing some kind of sick joke?¡± grunted Crewslayer, ¡°It¡¯s almost summer, Umrah belch at me.¡±


    ¡°This kind of thing happens every few years,¡± said a militiaman close to him, ¡°We are ought to turn back, while we still can find the way.¡±


    ¡°No. That¡¯s our only chance to recon, we are not failing lord Azytenisar here.¡±


    By the time they reached the road it was a full fledged blizzard already. Crewslayer could not see much further than two steps ahead. They moved almost blindly in the direction where he believed the dugouts were. The only benefit was that in that white whirlwind foes could not detect them either.


    And so the scouts trudged through the whiteout. They waded through the snow, which was covering the ground almost knee-high, they brushed the sticky snow off their faces and hair, they shook the snow from their shoulders, they squinted their eyes so the snow won¡¯t fly in.


    Sometimes a tiny hurricane would shape falling flakes into something resembling a man. Ymdaton even fell for it once, slashing intangible white currents with his axe. It was silent and empty, and felt as if there was not a single living being in this storm, aside from Crewslayer and his squad.


    The swinging white embrace brought a surprise, hiding a freezing sentry so well, that he became visible at less than a hand¡¯s breadth. Ymdaton was no less surprised, than the unlucky man. The blizzard led them so close to each other that there was no room to swing a balde. The kinani warrior reacted first and drove an elbow to enemy¡¯s face. He then quickly slit a throat of a shocked foe and tossed him in the snow beneath. The weather began building a crypt for him instantly, already covering the body with a layer of white shroud.


    Militiamen who were closest to Ymdaton begged him to turn back in whispers. Sometimes he hissed at them, breathing out quiet angry statements about duty and courage. Sometimes he ignored them altogether, pretending to not hear them behind the wind and the squeaking under the boots. Perhaps some got scared and deserted, Crewslayer could not know. Being situated so far from him in the blinding vertigo, they might have not existed at all. There was the only real thing: the trenches, and he was heading for it in the dreamlike twirling white mass.


    They stumbled upon a bunch of large pyramidal piles of snow. Ymdaton halted abruptly, and so did warriors behind his back. Those could have been snow-covered tents, which meant the scout squad was inside the enemy camp, surrounded by nine thousand soldiers, albeit sleeping. Crewslayer stuck his hand in one of tiny hills and produced a pickaxe. Those were but piles of groundwork equipment. That brought him a relief and also a confidence that dugouts were near. So he led his warriors to where he believed pits to be.


    More plodding through the blizzard, and nothing to be found in the white curtains. Another sentry was led by his cruel fate into meeting Ymdaton¡¯s men. They ploughed the snow as a boat cuts through waves, leaving trails behind them which started disappearing as soon as they moved forth.


    Crewslayer was so absorbed by his mission, so hypnotized by the white mantle that fell upon the world, that a hand upon his shoulder was the first reminder that he was not alone. One of his warriors, emerging from the snowfall, urged him to look forward.


    There was something akin to fireflies. Dots of yellowish light that barely cut through the blizzard. They became stronger and brighter, after some moments, more like fireballs now. Shadows were being cast by these lights, moving right under them. Next moment Ymdaton understood that it was shades who moved the flares, not the other way. Soon shadows resolved themselves into silhouettes of men.


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    Crewslayer led his warriors into retreat swiftly. There was no telling how many troops staggered through the snowfall, looking for them. It could mask hundreds just few steps away, impossible to notice, impossible to hear through the wind¡¯s howling. He did not know where to go. The location of trenches was left a mystery, the location of the forest edge became a mystery, bleached out of perception by the snowstorm.


    Some of them came closer. In these moments the reign of the snow was broken by red invasions. Enemies were left to become one with the white, but his trusty militiamen joined them too. Lost was the count of foes he killed and allies he was left with. So they wandered slowly through the storm, engaging in a skirmish, then moving away from it.


    By what chance, or whose guidance they reached the trees, he did not know. But they did eventually and the shadows did not follow them there. There was no less death inside the woods. The cold, the blindness, and the disorientation were just as deadly. Trees were punished by the snowfall. Their leafs which sprung out, feeling the warmth, now collected twice the amount of snow that a naked branch could. They were bent down, broken, crushed. And so were his men.


    Eventually they left the forest. The world around attained a warmer hue, as rising sun tried to pierce white curtains. They were soon picked up by the mounted patrol. Sentries of Khladnetz allowed each of Ymdaton¡¯s men to ride their bakhmats as passengers. Only fifteen steeds were required.


    He was brought before knez and stood there, not knowing what to say.


    ¡°Report¡± urged him Azytenisar. It did not feel as an order, rather as a request.


    ¡°I failed you, my lord. I did not manage to locate dugouts in this storm, I lost more than half of my men, I alerted the enemy,¡± told Ymdaton mechanically, ¡°I am not suited for subtle missions, I proved it again.¡±


    ¡°By the stars,¡± sighed lord of Abeneewy, ¡°Do not get drunk on self blaming. You were defeated by the natural disaster, that is understandable. Put yourself together, if you still want to be useful for me.¡±


    A loud noise rolled outside. It was a sound of a horn, a long one. Then came another long one, and two shorter sounds followed.


    ¡°And do it quickly,¡± Azytenisar¡¯s face became grim.


    ¡°Lake gates are breached,¡± breathed out Ymdaton.


    His lord nodded shortly. Runners stomped into the chambers, eager to carry orders.


    ¡°Do not be rash,¡± said knez, ¡°Let us wait some heartbeats before rearranging our forces. Garrison of the gates can hold any onslaught for half a day without reinforcements. Circumstances might change rapidly in next few moments. Sit yourselves.¡±


    Runners stood there dumbstruck. That was not the order which they expected, the urge to move, run somewhere, do something was visible in their posture.


    ¡°Sit yourselves. Calm down. Wait,¡± said Azytenisar. He took a jar which resided on his table and poured a portion of wine into a mug. Knez emptied it one gulp and glanced at his subordinates who were still standing, ¡°Those were the orders, by the way.¡±


    Men obeyed. They sat at wooden benches. Some were changing poses constantly, some were tapping with their feet or hands rhythmically, some were eyeing the window as if expecting to see a battle raging just outside. Ymdaton strode from corner to corner, trying to keep himself from beggin for an assignment to the battlefield.


    Another sequence of horn noises came. This was different than the one before.


    ¡°That was for the road to Belosten,¡± said knez, ¡°I told you, events will unfold quickly,¡± he glanced at runners, ¡°And now, my friends, it is time to be rash.¡±

 Chapter XXXIII: To Prove

    Two serfs were dressing lord of Abeneewy, while he listened to reports and issued orders ceaselessly. Ymdaton noticed just how different were warsuits of Azytenisar and Sumiaton. It was just as expensive, consummately crafted, adorned with costly metals and gems, yet pleasing to the eye, its decoration subtle and simple. It did possess a feel of grandeur to it, yet it looked natural, made this way because the lord¡¯s armour could not be different, not to show off.


    More and more messengers were arriving, bringing news of the siege.


    ¡°Lake gates are completely annihilated,¡± reported one of them, ¡°An unknown creature towering over all the surroundings, broke through and is now moving towards the city. The garrison of the gates was not able to stop it.¡±


    ¡°Find Sumiaton, tell him take his twenty five crews and prevent the advance of the giant,¡± knez smiled, although his eyes stayed serious, ¡°I believe he is on the way already, but I want be sure. Also, I need Likhobor and his twenty five go there and assist the venator. Now, what of Belosten direction?¡±


    ¡°It appears that the enemy performed a sap. Earth came apart and a section of a wall collapsed. Foes are trying to launch an assault through the breach. Thy are held at bay by Abimnupal and his crews, but our brethren are heavily outnumbered,¡± told another runner. While he was talking, some kinani warriors entered the room.


    ¡°Azandahy, I will need your thousand men at Belosten gates,¡± said lord of Abeneewy to one of the newcomers, ¡°Remaining kinani forces will also come with me to repel the assault.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t mean to lead counterattack yourself, do you?¡± asked the pigeon face.


    ¡°Yes I do. Nine thousand foes breaking through fortifications are by far our gravest concern. I will see to it personally,¡± knez gave him a look which denied any argument.


    ¡°But¡­¡± pressed still Azandahy.


    ¡°That is my final word. I believe that my wife instructed you to babysit me again. But I am a warrior also, my place is on battlefield. I will not command from some safe mudhole, while my men are spending their lives.¡±


    A crewman entered the chambers and stood at the doors, eyeing Azytenisar.


    ¡°Do speak your message,¡± knez noticed him pretty soon.


    ¡°My name is Sylnoam, I am member of second crew,¡± said the warrior.


    ¡°I remember you, proceed.¡±


    ¡°My lord, with all due respect, I would like you to prove your identity, using the gemmed shield.¡±


    ¡°You are in no position to demand such things,¡± Azytenisar¡¯s face darkened.


    ¡°I believe, I am,¡± the crewman was not frightened at all, ¡°Because I¡¯ve just rode from southern gates where I saw you ordering Azumas to open them and lead his thousand man outside, attacking enemy camp. He is fooling you at the moment,¡± he smiled confusedly, ¡°Trying to buy time and check if the suicidal idea indeed came from our lord. Everybody knows the nature of that gemstone and how only with Abeneewy blood it is revealed. So show us, please.¡±


    Azytenisar, who was now fully armed, put his shield on the table. He unsheathed his dagger and sliced his palm, letting a drop of blood fall upon the massive gem that was embedded in the center of the shield. Everyone in the room was watching the process silently, tension could be felt in the air. The life fluid hissed and boiled upon the touch, evaporating from the surface of the jewel.


    ¡°So we got a doppelganger,¡± said knez. Some present men let ought sighs of relief, ¡°I need a volunteer to rid me of this problem. A single one,¡± he scanned present warriors with a look.


    No one answered.


    ¡°Azandahy? You would be perfect,¡± said lord of Abeneewy. The pigeon face was silent, he turned his gaze to the side.


    ¡°Won''t let me out of your sight, thought so. Anybody else? Of High Crew preferably.¡±


    ¡°Send a squad to eliminate him. Why order away your most valuable blades at the time like this,¡± said Hasdruhy.


    ¡°You do not understand,¡± shook his head Azytenisar, ¡°Executing a thing which wears my face publically would cause disturbance among troops. I don¡¯t need ridiculous rumours spreading during the siege. I need my warriors to be resolute. That is why this problem should be resolved in a most subtle way.¡±


    Still no one agreed to go. Ymdaton looked at warriors around him and read upon their faces that no one would go willingly.


    ¡°I will do it,¡± said he suddenly. Everyone threw surprised glances at him. Even Azytenisar raised a brow.


    ¡°But remember, least possible witnesses,¡± told him knez.


    Crewslayer nodded.


    ¡°Everyone, be on your way. We are to win this war, no matter what tricks our enemies employ!¡± proclaimed Azytenisar and left the room, rest of the meeting followed him.


    Sun only barely showed above the horizon, yet thanks to the snow that covered everything, it was quite bright around. Fields and pastures around the city were generally flat. As Ymdaton rode to his destination upon a bakhmat, he could gaze far away into the whitened domain. The blizzard ceased everywhere except close to the lake road. There was a small piece of land where the snowfall raged still. It was a weird occurrence and even more so considering that there were no clouds left on the sky.


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    Crewslayer was speeding in the different direction, so at first he did not notice that the storm was moving. But soon it became apparent to him that the blizzard was slowly advancing towards the city. Some league away of it a force of warriors was visible. Troops were maneuvering in a way which would not bring them into the storm, yet staying between it and the walls of the town.


    The longer he looked at the snowfall, the weirder shadows he could see inside. He cursed his imagination and pressed on. But the next time he glanced towards the lake road, he saw clearly that there was something moving inside the whirling whiteness. It had a humanoid silhouette and was slowly walking towards the city.


    Either it was following the storm, or the storm was following it, for neither of them outpaced each other. The thing was immense. Even being obscured by the whiteout, it was still visible from such a distance. Crewslayer stretched one arm forward, between his eyes and the figure in the distance. By his rough estimations it was the size of a small mountain.


    A white foot came closer to the edge of the storm and flattened farmer¡¯s house which happened to be in its path. Ymdaton felt the urge to turn his steed and go assist the troops battling that magnificent enemy. That was going to be the fight worthy of legends, his heart quickened, when he thought about it.


    But then there were orders.


    The thing made several more steps and suddenly submerged knee-deep into the ground. A wail of pain rolled through the fields, louder than any horn. Troops began firing at it their bows and slings. Sumiaton would deal with the giant, thought Crewslayer. He let a deep sigh out, calming himself. His mission was not there. He urged his mount to gallop faster.


    Upon arriving to the camp, Ymdaton headed straight to Azumas'' tent. Kinani commander was discussing something with two other crewmen.


    ¡°Behold our reinforcements,¡± grinned the commander. His good mood fel fake.


    ¡°I need to speak to you in private,¡± told Ymdaton, eyeing other warriors.


    ¡°These are my most trusted advisors and friends, they can hear whatever I hear.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± shrugged his shoulders Ymdaton, ¡°But I warn you against telling anyone what I will say now. Lord Azytenisar, who resides in your camp is a false one. I saw the true one prove himself upon the gem. Yours is a doppelganger,¡± he expected surprised gasps, but none came.


    ¡°I suspected something like this,¡± said Azumas calmly, ¡°However, how do I know that you are not a shapeshifter as well, who seeks to eliminate the true Azytenisar?¡±


    Ymdaton was taken aback for a moment.


    ¡°Well, besides trusting a fellow member of High Crew?¡± he chuckled, but the other three men were not fond of the joke, ¡°Bring in a cat, I¡¯ll show you.¡±


    There was an expression of annoyance on Azumas¡¯ face.


    ¡°I heard about this belief of forest dwellers. A cat can not be fooled by forest spirits,¡± said one of advisors.


    ¡°Provided this is more than a superstition, where do you expect me to find a cat in the war camp?¡± asked the commander.


    ¡°Those are drevlyani under you command. Someone brought a pet along, I guarantee,¡± smiled Ymdaton.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go ask militiamen,¡± proposed an advisor. The commander noded.


    Less than a quarter of an hour passed, before he returned with a fat red and white cat in his hands. Crewslayer took it from the warrior and brushed it under the chin. The animal purred and closed its eyes in a display of pleasure. Ymdaton glanced at Azumas.


    ¡°Fine, I believe you,¡± said the commander, ¡°True lord Azytenisar should have given the orders concerning this pretender. Tell me.¡±


    ¡°I will go and gut him,¡± told Crewslayer, ¡°Distract your people, so no one sees me murdering it. This occurrence is to be kept in secret. When I am done, tell the troops that knez departed to lead counterattack at Belosten road.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you can do it alone?¡± squinted his eyes the commander.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°I hope you know what you are doing,¡± Azumas turned to his advisors, ¡°I want all the guards to be called away from the tent of knez. Also order militia to beat drums. All the drums that they have. Tell it is a signal to crewmen in the city,¡± he gazed at Ymdaton, ¡°Who knows what a spawn hides under the guise of our master. Be careful, stars are with you.¡±

 Chapter XXXIV: All Proved

    The master¡¯s tent was indeed deserted, no one was seen around. Ymdaron entered, accompanied by the drumbeat coming from all directions at once.


    ¡°What brings you here, my warrior?¡± asked Azytenisar upon seeing him. Ymdaton was dumbstruck for several heartbeats. The face, the voice, the facial expression, the posture, gestures were all too familiar. He doubted for a moment, if he got mistaken somehow and here stood his true lord. He shook off the feeling quickly. He saw proofs, he would not fall for this trickery.


    ¡°I brought you a message from honored Lulaton,¡± said he.


    ¡°Why do they beat the drums?¡± asked knez.


    ¡°The troops are preparing to attack,¡± answered Ymdaton and offered a scroll to the man before him.


    ¡°Why is the distinguished warrior bringing the message and not the runner?¡±


    ¡°It is of utter importance. We could not risk it getting into the hands of the enemy. I guarded it.¡±


    As Azytenisar reached to take the letter, Crewslayer suddenly struck the man under the chin with it. His dagger revealed itself, tearing out of the scroll and into shapeshifter¡¯s head. The thing stumbled, letting out a beastial growl. The false knez tried to grab Ymdaton, yet the crewman was ready, severing the reaching hand with his axe. The doppelganger followed the limb that fell off with a gaze, then glancing at Crewslayer. Extensive decay was now visible around its eye sockets.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to see your true face, just die,¡± hissed the warrior at the monster, carving its skull open with his next swing. It tried to fight back, but Ymdaton was not halted by thrashing and only stopped when the shapeshifter was in too many pieces to move.


    The warrior approached the back wall of the tent. He sliced it and glanced outside warily. It was empty, drums continued their beat. Hopefully no one has heard noises of the fight. He dragged the body outside and for the first time thanked fate for the recent blizzard. The snow helped him both to hide the corpse and clean himself of blood.


    Crewslayer reported to Azumas and quickly set out on the ride back.


    On his way Ymdaton was able to observe the battle against the blizzard giant again. The monstrous thing was still heading for the city, although now in a sluggish limping pace. Troops of Khladnetz kept it under constant hail of arrows. Crewslayer saw an enormous siege engine being dragged among ranks. It was as large as a house, hauled by several dozen bakhmats. It stopped soon and soldiers began loading in a painfully slow manner. He saw about a score of men rotating massive gears of the machine. After some time it was done and then the thing fired. It hurled a bolt which looked more like it was made out of a whole tree.


    The projectile hit the giant into the neck. The monster staggered and then with a hissing roar fell to its hands and knees. Cavalry charged the helpless colossus. Yet as they rode close and readied their long lances, the monster stood up again, brushing the closest ranks of mounted warriors away with its hands. Poor riders and their steeds flew over fifty paces away as if they were ants being blown away by the wind. Again he felt a strong desire to join the desperate battle. What if Sumiaton lost here? Again Ymdaton reminded himself to trust in his lord¡¯s decisions.


    He found Azytenisar but a league away from Belosten gates alongside High Crew. Thirty steps to the left and to the right stood second and third crews, gathered in tight formations. Thirty steps away from them were fourth and fifth, with their shields also locked. All were armed with long spears. Behind the crews stood in rows drevlyani warriors, they ranks not wider than those of kinani ahead. Among them were full squads of archers who were constantly shooting at the gates. Ymdaton glanced there and saw forces of Khladnetz retreating, while countless enemies coming through the breach in fortifications pursued them.


    ¡°Do report,¡± uttered lord of Abeneewy.


    ¡°The doppelganger is eliminated, my lord,¡± answered Ymdaton, ¡°I saw forces in the west dealing with a colossal spawn of the forest. I believe they will need reinforcements.¡±


    ¡°We got our hands full here. Besides, have faith in Sumiaton, even if you don¡¯t like him. On my orders he was preparing for this situation since our arrival in Khladnetz. He will prevail in his battle, no matter how hopeless it could look. You are about to witness the strength of his knowledge right here. Take your place in the formation.¡±


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    Ymdaton bowed, armed himself with a spear and joined his brethren of High Crew. Soon the retreating force reached them and passed in the empty spaces between formations. Abimnupal, who was leading them, saluted Crewslayer with an axe.


    Pursuers approached, some seventy steps away. There were too many of them. Enough to swipe even the best of kinani, a thought passed through Crewslayer¡¯s head. That was going to be the direst battle of his life.


    As soon as the last man of Abimnupal¡¯s force passed by, Ymdaton felt the earth shake a little. Next moment the soil ahead split, deep trenches rapidly appearing. These pits were exactly as wide as a distance between kinani formations. They divided the recently flat ground into five narrow roads which started each at the feet of a crew. Many enemies fell into the landslide, others were caught on the remaining passages, their options reduced to moving forth or retreating.


    ¡°Advance!¡± yelled Azytenisar.


    Crews projected their spears forward and began moving forward in a steady pace. There was just enough of them to completely cover the remaining strips of the high ground. Ymdaton glanced to the side and saw dead bodies piling in the pits. There was also a lot of wooden wreckage there, remnants of ingenious groundworks. Enemies used the sap to breach the walls. Their onslaught was shattered with the sap as well. The idea amused Crewslayer.


    Soon two forces clashed. Foes who were pushing the attack just some moments before were confused now, meeting the attack of the shield wall. Crewmen pocked and pierced, killing foes and pushing them into the trenches. Difference in numbers meant nothing on such narrow passages, only resolution and bravery of those few who clashed. Slowly but surely Kinani pressed the attackers back. Drevlyani warriors supported them with bow and sling barrage over their heads.


    Count of kills was always lost by Ymdaton when he fought in formation. It was a monotonous ugly task, like mincing the meat: stab to the joint, stab to the neck, push to the side, repeat. At some point he heard a thunderous roar in the distance. It was full of pain and frustration. Only one creature could have made a sound that loud. That meant that Sumiaton was successful at both battlefields.


    They reached the wall finally. Enemies were escaping through the breach, their morale broken. Five crews joined ranks at the undamaged piece of ground just before the walls and together chased them out. Outside Crewslayer saw the chaos in enemy ranks. Those escaping from behind the walls stumbled into those who moved forth to reinforce them. The road upon which besieging forces stood was narrow for such a huge force, so they could not properly maneuver.


    That was when Azytenisar unviled his next design. Two scores of steps away from the breach gates which were still intact opened. Out rode rank after rank of mounted drevlyani warriors. Ymdaton never saw their kind. Not only riders were heavily armored, but their steeds were also protected by coats of chainmail and plates upon their heads. These militiamen were armed with especially long swords or lances. They charged into the mass of the enemy and crashed them utterly.


    ¡°Support the cavalry, cleanse in their wake!¡± commanded Azytenisar.


    That was where the true slaughter began. They were following the riders and slaying whoever survived the initial attack. Ymdaton was wielding his beloved axe again. He fought alongside High Crew. Them battling together was a rare and terrifying sight. He saw his comrades slay five and more enemies without assistance, tackle and beat to death champions, chase and strike down warlords alongside their bodyguard.


    Ymdaton was trying to not get behind, his hands were sullied with blood of too many foes to count. They utterly broke the enemy, physically and spiritually. When forces of Khladnetz scourged half of their camp, foes broke into chaotic retreat, leaving their equipment and food behind. They were chased for several more leagues and then left alone to taste the fruits of their defeat.


    And so was lifted the siege of Khladnetz.

 Interlude IV: What Cant Be Taught

    Master Sikarhy and his father were probably in cahoots, that was what Ymdaton figured out. He was undergoing some kind training to harden his resolve. He could not find any other explanation for the terms on which his father agreed to train him. The deal was that the young man would no longer miss his lessons at Sikarhy''s place. He would learn all the things that the thinker required of him. Only when Hamysbir was assured that his son did all the studies, would he train him in the arts of blade.


    It was not like everything that the wise man taught was completely distasteful to Ymdaton. Some lessons in history, especially those about wars and battles of the past; some lesson in arts, especially the kind that displayed heroes of old; some lessons in mechanics and natural science, that would explain how and why certain things worked in certain ways, were genuinely interesting to him. But for every two entertaining subjects there was a dozen of deadly boring ones. Such was the latest one.


    The master ordered him to memorize a lengthy dusty ancient poem. Ymdaton was not only to put it into his head, but also to retell it then to Sikarhy. He stood in the green garden, trees whispered at the wind, birds sung on their branches. There was a mood in the air to celebrate, exercise, to saunter, but certainly not for the studies.


    Memorizing the poem was an arduous task. Constant repetition of poetic formulas, overly long titles for every person, antique language, listings of ships with every person on board being specially mentioned, all the ways to bore a sixteen years old were present. Yet he defeated it. He had beat it like he would beat an enemy. He dismembered it and took a piece at a time, until there was none left on the parchment and all was in his head.


    There was a fun part in it though. Ymdaton liked the ending. It felt so absurd, weird, and laughable, that he could not help liking it. Fortunately, the finally was close by, now that he was doing declamation for quarter of an hour.


    Two major characters in the poem were a master of mechanics and a bard. They faced a lot of hardship through the story, sometimes together, sometimes by themselves. Eventually they both grew old and were approaching their final years.


    Master of mechanics feared that he would not reach the West, since made a great amount of shady deals in his life. He expected Nisirask to stop him and put him into servitude. So he built a magnificent ship, kind of which was not seen before. It carried an intricate system of gears and levers, which was supposed to control sails and rudder. The mechanic wrote down a will saying that he is to be sent to the West in that very ship.


    His family obeyed, so when he finally died, they put him into his creation and set the sails. To their surprise, the vessel steered itself onwards, following some secret commands left behind by its creator. It successfully avoided half the storms on the way. Its course was designed so that it would bypass Guardian of the Dead to the north.


    But when destination was almost at hand, a terrible sea wyrm emerged from the waves and devoured the ship along with its passenger. So the master of mechanics was denied an eternal life.


    The bard on the other hand, never cared for death. He played his string until his last hours. When he passed away, his family put him into the ship and made a farewell ceremony. There were musicians present, performing songs of departure.


    In the middle of the funeral, to everyone¡¯s shock, the bard stood up. He approached the musicians with an irritated gait and took their instruments. He hit the strings for everyone to hear what true music is supposed to be.


    It is said that the bard wanders Sea Betwixt ever since, bringing his eternal art to people.


    After Ymdaton finished, Sikarhy allowed silence to reign in the air for some moments.


    ¡°So, what do you think about the poem?¡± asked he.


    ¡°It was damn tough to memorize and kind of boring,¡± Ymdaton smiled apologetically, ¡°I¡¯m saying it as the one who remembers many songs to a word.¡±


    ¡°It is archaic, that¡¯s all,¡± told the teacher, ¡°Learning such things makes you pleasant in conversation. You don¡¯t want to come off as a dullard, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°To be quite honest, I can not care less about entertaining others.¡±


    ¡°That will pass with the age,¡± smirked the thinker, ¡°Anyway, that is not the reason I wanted you to learn it. What do you think is the moral of the story here?¡±


    ¡°Everybody dies?¡± shrugged his shoulders the boy, ¡°You should stick to doing your thing instead of worrying about it too much, because in the end it comes anyway,¡± added he instantly with a confused look.


    ¡°You should not be ashamed to voice the obvious thing,¡± the wise man nodded and smiled, ¡°Everyone knows it, yet only few managed to actually follow this advice, especially as their years advanced. It is fine that you understand it early. That is not the case here, though.¡±


    The boy was silent, awaiting the explanation.


    ¡°Ask yourself what is death.¡±


    ¡°The end of every human being,¡± answered Ymdaton after a slight delay.


    ¡°Exactly. It is inevitable part of human nature. It is the most obvious of its kind, therefore it is used here to symbolize all things that can not be altered. Opposing it is pointless and will only bring ruin. You should to learn to accept it and live accordingly.¡±


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    ¡°I don¡¯t quite get it. What would be another example of such thing?¡±


    ¡°You are a warrior by nature, for example. I suppose that your father tried to guide you away from it. These attempts brought nothing but misery to both of you.¡±


    The boy turned away his gaze.


    ¡°This ancient poem may be boring, but memorize its lesson. To become a great man you must deal with your inner self before trying to deal with the world around. That¡¯s the end for today. You can now go to train with your father, I can see you being filled with anticipation,¡± smiled Sikarhy.


    Ymdaton thanked him, bid farewell, and with all haste headed home.


    Training with his father consisted of constant sparrings. No other exercises were employed. They fought a duel after a duel, back to back. A fight ended when a wooden training weapon delivered a blow which would have been mortal if done by steel. Ymdaton was yet to win at least one.


    Hamysbir threaded with grace in a fight, almost lazily. He never betrayed his intention, energy gathered for the attack was never visible in his body language. As a sudden storm, he brought forth action without warning, flipping an unprepared opponent.


    Dealing with unexpected onslaught was one thing and Ymdaton learned it quickly. He tried to goad his father into counterattacking, constantly pressing him. So that the opponent would strike when he wanted it, sparing him of constant anxious attempts at predicting Hamysbir''s actions. But the warrior was not as simple.


    Even at defensive, he was still beating Ymdaton. His answers with a blade were innovative, weird. He designed their sparring so that when he had beaten his son with a certain trick, he would then repeat it again and again with variations, until Ymdaton learned it. Then he tried something fresh and the cycle continued.


    And so it was today, the father cornered the boy with a same simple feint. He faked a missed parry and then, when his blade was seemingly flying away uncontrollably, he hooked son¡¯s wrist with a beard of an axe, pulled it to the side, and knocked him down. Ymdaton saw the trick, he understood he, he knew it was coming at some point, but he still could not quite figure out the timing.


    His father always performed it when he was least expecting. They began anew and again he attacked, again met a parry that did not quite work. This time he did not try to get his arm back onto position, instead he threw he full body after it. Not only he avoided a blow of a shield which could have stunned him, but almost managed to disarm father. A time to make a single breath separated him from victory there. It was enough for his Hamysbir to outflank and floor him with a kick to the back of the knee.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± said his father and helped him to stand up.


    ¡°But I almost got you!¡± breathed Ymdaton heavily.


    ¡°Almost is what many slain warriors could have said,¡± his father shook his head and smiled slightly, ¡°I want to tell you something.¡±


    They boy placed himself alongside his father and listened carefully.


    ¡°Not that you surely stepped upon the warrior¡¯s path, I want to tell you why I was against it. I will teach you many things. My experience in blade art is vast. I can show you countless tricks, moves, steps. I can teach you how to use your body to its utmost capability, how land the strongest blow, how to fight with weapons of every shape, or without one at all. But that is not all. The battle is not but a sum of all things that make it, just like our life in general. That which is unseen makes the biggest difference...¡±


    ¡°But you should know it, you are too good not to, teach me that also¡± said Ymdaton.


    ¡°Oh, I know,¡± laughed Hamysbir ¡°But I can not teach it, unlike all that I mentioned. The true nature of the battle can not be explained. It can not be put into words, only pointed at, suggested. I can give you hints, but you must feel it yourself. And when you do, you will become the true warrior, nothing will be able to stop you.


    But the truth is, the nature of battle can be perceived from inside of it. You will probably go into your first war without understanding it. When I finally saw it, I reflected on my past and was shocked. It was seen to me clearly that before I was surviving mostly by luck. It is true that skill and resolve can take you far, but there are so many possibilities in the fight that one can not be prepared to everything.


    I was fortunate enough to live until my eyes opened. But many good people I knew weren¡¯t. Of all wonderful friends I made in the crews, none are with us today. One unlucky swing and there could have been no me for your mother, no me for you, and you could have not existed at all.


    I want you to live a long happy life, to see your dreams come true. But you are about to begin a walk on the road where every turn can be the last one. And that is why I didn''t want you to  become a warrior. That is why I kept my deeds secret. So you won¡¯t go after my example. I am afraid. I will do everything that is possible, to make you ready. And I know from the start that it won¡¯t be enough.¡±


    There was silence.


    ¡°Don¡¯t fear, dad. I will do my best, I will learn whatever is needed,¡± said the son.


    ¡°I believe in you. You are talented, even more so than I. The only thing that I can¡¯t give you is luck, so let the stars provide it for you.¡±

 Chapter XXXV: Of Unseen Importance

    ¡°You carry yourself in the saddle as if you are riding a piece of a wreckage through the waves,¡± chuckled Abimnupal.


    Ymdaton grunted something unintelligible.


    ¡°Come on, don¡¯t get offended here,¡± grinned his friend, ¡°If you practiced riding more instead of trudging around the city, you¡¯ll be fine now. We are not on Isary anymore, bakhmat here is like a rowboat at home. You can sail a boat, can¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Oh shut up,¡± answered Crewslyer, his eyes smiling, ¡°I will beat you at running contest any time, because you won¡¯t ever cross the street on your two.¡±


    ¡°Well, when we are finally defeated and it is time to retreat, your splendid training will come handy.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of which,¡± Ymdaton glanced across the field, where the lake gates were already being repaired. A multitude of flattened houses which remained in the wake of the blizzard giant were also swarming with builders and carpenters, ¡°We drove away only the army that was besieging Belosten gates. What happened to other two? They just disappeared.¡±


    ¡°Drevlyani believe that they were decimated by forces of the forest. There was a lot mutilated corpses on these roads, some were also frozen to death. Have you heard how the venator dealt with that towering thing?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I even saw the battle briefly, when I was riding across the domain. Not the end though. Ahyq told me that they brought it to the knees using siege machines which hurled pots of molten metal. Then Sumiaton charged and with a sling launched flask on unknown concoction into its face. That fluid caused great pain upon the thing, it roared, covered eyes with hands and staggered back to the forest.¡±


    ¡°He did not kill it then...¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°You do not sound upset at all.¡±


    ¡°Why would I be?¡±


    ¡°Well, our venator placed himself in legends safely with this one battle. It is easily his greatest achievement.¡±


    ¡°And?¡± dragged the word Ymdaton.


    ¡°While you were not as,¡± his friend paused, ¡°fortunate.¡±


    ¡°Truth be told, I don¡¯t even care that much,¡± shrugged his shoulders Ymdaton, ¡°I know that I¡¯ve done the right thing. No matter if it isn¡¯t awesome enough for the songs.¡±


    ¡°Weird to hear it from you,¡± smiled Abimnupal.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    ¡°I¡¯d not expect myself saying something like this year ago,¡± grinned Crewalayer.


    Soon two crewmen reached a pasture to which they were summoned by their lord. Upon it a spectacular drill was commenced. Mounted warriors rode back and forth. Some competed with their peers, crossing training blades. Some charged at full speed wooden posts to which were crossing planks attached, so that they resembled men.


    When they passed these posts, they practiced at delivering precise cuts to dummy¡¯s ¡°neck¡±, ¡°head¡±, under its ¡°arms¡±, into its ¡°torso¡±. One of riders had his cape fly wildly with the wind and Ymdaton saw a metal of hauberk flash.


    ¡°Look,¡± Ymdaton pointed, ¡°That¡¯s how lord Azytenisar trained his riders in secret. He had them practicing with their amour hidden under clothes. So no one noticed that he was creating heavy cavalry.¡±


    ¡°Still not as impressive as Sumiton digging a square league of the ground without raising suspicion.¡±


    ¡°Still not as impressive as forest dwellers, who supposedly know nothing about siegeworks, bringing the walls down with a sap.¡±


    ¡°Well, obviously they learned from someone.¡±


    There was a group of cavalrymen, around two dozen, who charged in a formation. They headed for a row of pikes plucked into the soil. Pikes were placed a step away from each other, between them stood wooden panels. Wooden sticks were five cubits long, their tips were covered in leather sacks stuffed with something. Crewslayer quickly understood the meaning of this exercise.


    Riders approached the obstacle at full speed, guiding their mounts between pikes and ramming panels, which fell down and were trampled over. Sacks were also not without a purpose, as one of warriors was too clumsy and rode directly into the pike. His bakhmat got hit and he was thrown out of the saddle. Besides the shock and shame, the animal and its rider were unharmed.


    They found lord of Abeneewy at the edge of the pasture, overseeing the drill.


    ¡°Do you have any idea why I wanted to see you there instead of my residence?¡± asked he after receiving greetings.


    ¡°You are a busy man, knez. You deal with several matters at the same time to spare time¡± said Ymdaton.


    ¡°Is it pity in your voice,¡± smiled Azytenisar, ¡°You are not wrong, but not right either.¡±


    ¡°You want to tell us something that no one else is supposed to hear,¡± told Abimnupal.


    Knez nodded.


    ¡°Our defenses are in shambles,¡± said he, following dueling riders with a gaze, ¡°While loses at Belosten gates were minimal, we lost nearly thousand and a half warriors to the attack of that giant creature. Fortifications are compromised. Resources are thinning. The recent blizzard damaged rural grounds heavily, yeild will be too scarce to feed an army in case of a new war.


    Of course other cities were weakened as well and they are unlikely to attack again soon. But I can not afford dismissing the possibility. And there is also the ever present threat of the forest.


    I will send two thirds of High Crew on a secret mission to Qyris. They will be given ten sacks of gold and a sealed message from me to king Azyrah. With this money they are to buy from royal house armed reinforcements and food. In this way we can bolster defences of Khladnetz while we are rebuilding it.¡±


    ¡°I suppose that we are in this party,¡± said Ymdaton.


    ¡°Indeed. I will put in command one of you two. It is up to you to chose whom. Now.¡±


    Two crewmen exchanged confused looks. Crewslayer was about to open his mouth, but Abimnupal spoke first.


    ¡°I believe, that my friend is more suited for the task. He was bereft of opportunities to prove himself lately, so I think it is only fair to appoint him.¡±


    ¡°Set and done then,¡± uttered Azytenisar while Ymdaton was still taken aback, ¡°You are appointed as a commander. My hopes lay with you.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t disappoint,¡± finally managed to have his word Crewslayer. He and Abimnupal both bowed and went on their way.

 Chapter XXXVI: Burdened

    The party left Khladnetz in the dead of night. Fifty saddled bakhmats and ten more burdened were there. Ymdaton insisted that the journey should be done while the sun is absent.


    The first reason was to reduce the number of people who knew about their undertaking. No one saw them leave and there was little chance that anyone would see them on the road. Ten sacks of gold were a tempting prize after all, it was better to keep them away from greedy eyes.


    Not only men were his concern, but also the forest. While things in the woods had little interest in material wealth, they could still try to lead the caravan into some trap. That is why traveling under the shining stars was preferable.


    Despite the utter importance of the mission and the great value of their carriage men were not showing anxiety. They did not break discipline with unreasonable jolly like a bunch of drunkards. Yet their moods were ever light. They were rarely silent, always discussing something: the recent war, the past ones, their deeds, deeds that they have heard of, routine at Khladnetz, and life at distant home. They told jokes, sometimes heartless and visceral, fitting the warriors, sometimes obscene and low, customary among men.


    Crewslayer enjoyed the time that he spent with his peers. Since he joined High Crew he did not have a lot of opportunities to do so. They were together on the way from Isary, that was when he learned their names and ways. Since then crewmen were separated more often, than united, following their own assigned tasks. After all, they were the chosen warriors of Abeneewy, whenever lord of the house had a need of a trusted man to perform his will, he would ask one of them.


    There was the special air of bravery and open mindedness about them. Ymdaton was proud to be the part of this force. He felt like he was in a band of heroes, one of those that old songs often told about.


    They did not meet any obstacles on the road thus far. By Crewslayer''s estimations the caravan was to reach the lake Volnitza in six days. Time passed quickly when his soul was soothed by the fine company. It was only under the low rays of setting sun, when he was alone in silence, just after camping or just before setting off, that he felt strangely uneasy.


    It was a cold heavy feeling in his gut. Sometimes it appeared as a premonition that helps to dodge a sudden swing in battle. But there was no battle and no blade fell. Sometimes it was a pressure at the back, urging him to turn and meet a gaze of someone who was staring at him. But there was no one.


    These feelings began poisoning his calmness until it was rotten and falling apart. Several days passed and Ymdaton could not even distract himself with idle chat when they were on the move. He analyzed the world around, listening to each of his five senses in turn, trying to understand his disturbed state piece by piece.


    Many interesting facts were unveiled by him in this way. It was uncomfortably hot both at night and in the day. It felt like bathing in the sea on some of middle islands where the water was as warm as the air. His skin tingled slightly, he did not understand why at first. The reason was revealed to him by him when gazing at the trees thoughtfully. Their leaves were still completely. There was no wind, not even the slightest movement of the air.


    When discovering this he looked up at the sky and found a solitary cloud against the stars. It was there, brilliant white at the top, deep blue at the bottom during daytime, it was there, as a salty stain on night¡¯s dark velvet. As long as he observed it, the cloud did not move a bit.


    Then there were sounds, or rather the absence of them. It was not noticeable when caravan marched, but in hours of rest there fell dead silence. The forest was not always quite, Ymdaton learned in during the past year. His first ever impression with it was false, for there was always a beast sneaking through the bushes, or a bird cleaning its feathers among branches.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    He learned to hear all of this and distinguish noise of the woods from other sounds which can signal the coming attack. That was the art of survival in Odwitchni. But there was silence which conceived ringing in the ears. As he walked around the camp during day halts, he began stepping with extreme carefulness, for his thread felt loud and thundering among the absence of any other sound.


    His perception became sharpened on a verge of paranoia. Tiniest details which Ymdaton wouldn''t have even noticed normally, now screamed to him. This state revealed to him the next disturbing sign. The road under their feet was virgin, unblemished, as if no one stepped on it in a hundred years. That was absurd, for the passage that led to the lake was a popular trading route.


    Goods of the forest were brought by it to Qyris, while goods from over the seas were carried back. There were no marks of passing caravans. Since kinani party was moving during nights, Ymdaton stayed awake while sun was up several times. He observed the road from a distance, hoping to witness at least enemies from other city states. But they were alone on that track.


    He started stopping the caravan on the move. Sometimes he climbed a tree to study stars for almost an hour, sometimes he walked circles near treeline, searching for deviations. He achieved nothing but weird looks from his peers. They thought the forest was driving Ymdaton mad, and, perhaps, it did.


    Again and again he found proofs that they were on the right way, that this was true lake road. Conflict between obvious facts and the sickening feeling exhausted Crewslayer.


    One of these days Abimnupal approached him, when they were advancing under the starlight. His friend rode alongside Ymdaton for some time silently. Crewslayer expected some pleas to get himself together, some warnings that crewmen intend to strip the crazy commander of his authority.


    ¡°You feel it too?¡± surprised him the warrior. Ymdaton wanted to answer something, but did not find right words, ¡°The wrongness in the air,¡± added his friend.


    ¡°I thought I was turning insane,¡± said he quietly.


    ¡°I hate this place. It will be the end of us.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°Because it is no different to the bottom of the sea. There live ancient terrible things that even the stars were unable to slay. And we are but men. You know, I believed in Asytenisar¡¯s dream. I imagined my daughter being married to some lord among the trees, whose gold was beyond count. I¡¯ve collected a formidable dowry for her, while being there. Did i tell you how I bought a house for a single motley feather?¡±


    ¡°Do tell.¡±


    ¡°During the counter attack at the breach I killed some wealthy land dweller. His helmet was adorned with a feather of weird colours. I plucked it out, thinking it might be of value. Little did I know that the cost was stupendous. When the siege ended, I showed it to Radomir. It is a pity that you did not see his eyes at that moment. They became as wide as gold coins. He told me that was a feather of a rare bird which lives only deep in eastern groves. I asked if he is interested. He obviously was. I asked of a price. He did not even say anything about gold. He offered me his other house in Khladnetz. A fine thing of three storeys, with several supporting buildings, a large yard and so on. All for a single piece of some parrot¡¯s tail.¡±


    ¡°We should go hunting after this bird later, you and I,¡± chuckled Crewslayer, ¡°Let¡¯s drive Radomir into poverty.¡±


    ¡°But my hopes dwindle more with every day spent in this damn place. The woods will swallow us eventually. Even now they are working on it, I can feel and you too.¡±


    ¡°They tried before,¡± said Ymdaton, feeling surprising resolution, ¡°It won¡¯t be any different this time.¡±


    Several crewmen were left on watch while others slept during day camping. It was Crewslayer''s turn now. He patrolled back and forth, guarding his brethren. Even bakhmats were silent, using the opportunity to regain forces. That unnatural quietness that engulfed the forest was beneficial for one thing at least: no one could have moved within ten steps of the camp without Ymdaton hearing him. That made a watch easy, or so he thought.


    Because of this confidence, Crewslayer did not even notice a solitary figure sitting on the grass just beside their steeds. The intruder was clad in a cloak of deep green color, which made him even less visible. The clothing obscured his body utterly. Ymdaton glaced around and saw no other watchmen, they were in the opposite corners of the camp probably. So that guest was his personal shortcoming. Crewslayer unsheathed his blade and approached the figure.


    ¡°Show your face and announce your name,¡± said he loudly, making threat be heard in his voice.


    The figure did not move even a little. It answered with a raspy laugh.


    ¡°Do you not recognize me? I thought we were introduced to each other quite closely.¡±

 Chapter XXXVII: Have You Had Your Fill?

    The stranger in a green cloak continued his creaking laughter, forcing the crewman to come closer, blade at ready.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know anyone who speaks like that. Either show yourself and tell what are you doing in our camp, or die by my hand right where you are. There will be no third warning.¡±


    ¡°Oh, but you can not kill me,¡± the stranger laughed again, ¡°You tried and it did not work. The irritating thing is that I could not kill you either. So I decided that I will simply introduce you to another troublesome man. Perhaps one of you will die in the process, making me a little happier.¡±


    Ymdaton did as he promised. He swung his axe at the figure without saying any more words. As his blade touched the man, his cape flew off and engulfed Crewslayer. He instantly stepped back, understanding the trick. He tried to throw the cape away, but his attempts were futile.


    As he thrashed against the folds, it seemed to become bigger and bigger, its width stretching into infinity. Ymdaton only became more entangled in it. The fabric obscured the light. Underneath it was breathtakingly dark. Not as a moonless cloudy night could be, not as you see the world with your eyes closed, not as it is in the bowels of the ship with trap doors closed.


    It was perfectly dark, as if the light itself did not exist there. Ymdaton kicked at it desperately and heard the familiar voice somewhere close.


    ¡°Soon you will meet he who was first to bathe in the red.¡±


    By some miraculous effort he finally managed to throw the cape away. It did not touch the ground, instead, it fell apart into hundreds of tree leaves. Ymdaton frantically turned his head to all sides, but there were no signs of the intruder. Before him was a rotten tree trunk vaguely resembling a shape of a sitting man.


    After that his watch resumed its usual course. Ymdaton spent the rest of it striding through the camp, seeking any disturbance perhaps even at the edge of his senses, but there was none. At the dusk the party packed their belongings, saddled bathmats and proceeded with their journey. Crewslayer was hesitant to tell about his weird encounter, for all other crewmen looked calm and in good moods, especially other watchmen.


    They would have thought that he fell asleep on his duty, exhausted by days of paranoia and saw a dream which he confused for reality. Perhaps it was truth, he hoped it was.


    That was supposed to be the last day of travel before they reach Volnitza. Stars shone bright and told that they were on the right way to the west. A new kind of noise joined the usual sound palette of a moving caravan. It was to distant and monotonous at first, so Ymdaton did not hear it truly, only noticed subconsciously. Later during the night it became more obvious. A rhythmical rolling sound, that was well known to any seaman. A noise of moving water.


    When Crewslayer understood its nature, he became cheerful. Those were certainly waves of the great lake. Which meant that Qyris was also not far away. A hundred things which he could do there passed through his mind: he would bathe in the sea, no matter how cold it is, he would make a sacrifice in a grand shrine built of stone, he would go into a tavern, or to the docks, or to the market and listen to people talking news from Hundred Islands.


    His head was full to the brim with various plans when the expedition finally stepped out of the woods. There was rolling water before his eyes, indeed. But not as great as he expected it to be. Slightly more than an arrowflight away he could see the treeline beginning again. Between these distant trees and them were two opposite shores of sand. The sand shared its colour with the river. The dirty red colour of old blood.


    Ymdaton let out a stream of curses. He spewed the names of Umrah¡¯s vile children in conjunction with descriptions of various actions that are too shameful to be done in public. His rant continued for perhaps too long, but no one tried to calm him down.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    ¡°We got tricked by this thrice accursed forest yet again,¡± he finally managed to say something of a substance,¡±This is the river of blood, which means that we are deep in the eastern woods.¡±


    ¡°But we were following the stars. How is it even possible?¡± Abimnupal looked shaken.


    ¡°This all do not matter now,¡± told Crewslayer, ¡°It is dawn soon. We camp today and continue our journey to the west tomorrow. We saw once that the spirits of this place can not overcome the stars. So we will continue moving forward. With enough resolve we can get out of there, it is just a question of time,¡± his speech was met with agreement.


    They camped right on the road. There was no point hiding from potential travellers that far in the east. There was a bridge over the river, which connected road on both sides. It was built out of stone to the great surprise of kinani warriors. Upon closer inspection, Ymdaton understood that it was the same stone that he saw in the walls of ancient tavern in Velmytop.


    That fact raised many unpleasant questions which Crewslayer did not want to think of. At the next dusk men readied the caravan. Ymdaton inspected the stars and saw that the way west was across the river.


    ¡°Before we start,¡± said Abimnupal loudly, so everyone could hear, ¡°It was my watch today. Just after the noon a lone warrior in drevlyani armour came from the other side. He walked half the way down the bridge and stopped there in the middle. You can see him from here still.¡±


    Ymdaton looked into the twilight and, indeed, there was a silhouette standing on the bridge. Crewslayer furrowed his brows.


    ¡°This land brings nasty surprises, trust me,¡± said he in a grim voice, ¡°Whatever stands there is most likely a man only in the appearance. We cross the bridge and if it tries to hinder us, we slay it. Be prepared.¡±


    The expedition moved forth, men guiding their steeds by reins, ready for violence. Some carried torches to light the path, for the night was moonless. When they were ten paces away from the mysterious warrior, glimpses of fire illuminated him somewhat.


    He was incredibly tall and massive, almost five cubits of height. On his back was strapped a shield as huge as a door, at his belt was sheathed a sword so long, that it could have served as a two hander for a normal man. His helmet was open, putting on display a wrinkled face with furry brows and rich long white beard, which reached almost to his belly. Ymdaton made another step towards him and prepared to speak, yet the stranger uttered his words first.


    ¡°So that you may know,¡± told he in a low powerful voice, ¡°The border of my realm lies upon this bridge. I do not know what led you here,¡± he pointed his hand eastwards, ¡°but the one who wishes to cross it must pay a fee.¡±


    ¡°Who are you, how is your realm called, and what is the fee?¡± asked Ymdaton, trying to sound peaceful.


    ¡°I am Svyatogor, the protector of Vostochin. As for the fee,¡± he glanced over Crewslayer''s shoulder, ¡°I see that your steeds struggle under the weight of their burden. That is gold in these sack, isn¡¯t it? Well, leave it in its entirety and that will suffice.¡±


    ¡°You do understand that is unacceptable,¡± laughed Ymdaton, while his tone was bereft of fun, ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what is going to happen. We will cross this bridge. You can still move aside. I understand that somewhere in the forest there are your warriors hiding. Don¡¯t be foolish, even if you signal them now, they won¡¯t arrive in time, we will kill you faster. And then their turn will come. Let us pass or die.¡±


    ¡°There are no more warriors,¡± said Svyatogor, while unsheathing his sword, ¡±Only I.¡±


    Crewmen raised their weapons and moved forward to get the foe. Ymdaton stopped them with a gesture.


    ¡°No, he might actually attempt something, the bridge is narrow enough,¡± said he, ¡°Puncture him with arrows.¡±


    Kinani warriors took their weapons out, aimed and shot. Ymdaton expected the targeted warrior to run away into the darkness, or cover himself with a shield, or try and close distance with archers suicidally. Svyatogor did none of these things.


    In fact, he barely moved at all, not making a single step. He shifted his body subtly here and there. Crewslayer saw with widening eyes as arrows flew past the enemy at the hair¡¯s breadth or hit the solid parts of his armor. All that protection was achieved by slightest changes of posture.


    Soon archers reached their quivers to fetch next projectiles. During this brief pause, the enemy finally took out his shield. It was adorned with an emblem of a solitary mountain which seemed red in the torchlight. But obviously it was only reflecting the glares, its true color being something whitish. Or silver. A shiver of understanding passed through Ymdaton¡¯s body. He braced himself upon seeing the image.


    ¡°Have you had your fill?¡± asked Svyatogor and charged.

 Chapter XXXVIII: End of the Stairway

    The next hail of arrows harmed Svyatogor no more than the previous one. He reached Crewslayer in a heartbeat. The shocked kinani man managed to detect a swing of a sword, but that was the extent of his reaction. He blocked it with a shield, the impact felt more like a hammer blow. It drove him down, forced to crouch.


    It felt like something in his arm shattered upon the hit. A knee strike to the buckler followed instantly. Ymdaton was sent rolling away. The world darkened in his eyes for an instant turning from the moonless night into the starless one.


    When he finally stopped moving and picked himself up, Svyatogor was already among crewmen. Everyone assailed him at once, torches were dropped down in favor of using both hands in the fight. The engagement turned in the chaotic mess lit from beneath by abandoned fires. The foe made a statement at once.


    The statement was the death of Azumas. Poor man had risen his arms in defence, yet not quick enough, the sword passing by them and piercing his eye socket. The man of the mountain, for Ymdaton could not think of that warrior to be any other person, was not thwarted by the best crewmen of Abeneewy. He did not fight his way through the crowd, he stepped among them graciously with no one to hinder him.


    Ymdaton could not follow his movements with his eyes. It was not that the enemy was blindingly fast. His slashes, parries, and dodges were visible. Yet the way that he transitioned his body from one stance to another was breathtaking. Crewslayer could not fathom it. It was as if he saw the beginnings and the ends clearly, but between his eyes were filled with water, leaving shallow suggestions of a silhouette. He could not simply comprehend Svyatogor¡¯s manner of fighting.


    It appeared as no one present could do so either. Ahisynim got his throat slashed with a contemptuous ease, Bodahy got a pommel to the head which was enough for him to fall and never stand up, Azulh received a shove with a shield so powerful that he was throw away from the bridge and into the river, Hasdruhy got his legs swept and his chest stomped upon so that it caved in almost a palm¡¯s depth.


    The strength of this enemy seemed on par with his skill and his name: legendary. Backstabbing him was not effective either, even while completely surrounded, the warrior was ever aware of opponent¡¯s intentions. He seemingly randomly sidestepped and swung his shield backwards, always avoiding the attackers.


    The sheer hopelessness of the situation stopped Ymdaton for joining the battle. Greatest warriors of Isary died like clueless serfs. Here Crewslayer¡¯s story would end. He imagined how that would sound in a song. A promising crewman of many deeds went into forest on a mission to disappear there alongside all his brethren and the gold he was assigned to guard. A sad end that would be laughed at by future generations, if remembered at all.


    There was still an option. Call a retreat, leave their baggage, return with thousand men sometime later and hope it would be enough to defeat the one of the mountain. If he lived, he could explain his defeat, he could make others understand, make his lord understand, he could continue and acquire dozen more worthy victories. There was no bravery in dropping upon the sword, there was no shame in not doing so.


    As these thoughts passed through his mind, Ymdaton understood that they did not made him feel agitated or afraid. Somewhere along the road he stopped caring about what would be told about him. What concerned him truly was what he could tell about himself. Was he doing the right thing? Was he following the oath that he had given?


    High Crew, the most glorious position for the warrior taught him that glory was worth nothing, if the path to it was paved with dirt. He dropped his shield, his left arm was limp and broken beyond use in battle anyway. His right hand, however, was strong, the axe in it was as trusty as ever. It was enough. After a brief moment of reflection, he joined his peers.


    Svyatogor continued ripping lives. Ymdaton happened to enter the fray behinds the foe. His several attempts to gut the warrior from behind were not successful. It was then that Abimnupal stepped in front of the enemy. They exchanged several swings and while kinani man did not connect any blows, he was not swatted away either. He pressed on, his movements becoming faster and more elaborate, until to Crewslayer¡¯s eyes his friend was moving in the same manner as his foe.


    Svyatogor was forced to pay more attention to the crewman before him. More of his parries were directed forward now and less to the sides. Ymdaton saw a chance. With a tremendous effort, he tracked the long sword traveling through the air. It was hard to keep attention on it, for its swings were also bizarre. But for a moment he saw it. He hooked the blade with a beard of his axe and pulled it away, providing an opening for Abimnupal.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    His friend did not wait. While the enemy was off balance, he directed a swing to his face. Blood sprayed from under the blade. Svyatogor¡¯s head rocked back. Crewslayer¡¯s heart missed a beat. What a beautiful combination was it. But the very next moment the horror continued. The enemy delivered a swift strike with the edge of a shield right to midriff of his opponent, who was momentarily open. It was so mighty that Abimnupal flew away, also knocking down several crewmen in his wake.


    Ymdaton forgot about the battle completely. He rushed after his friend and dragged him out of the skirmish, so that he would not be stomped upon. The fight continued, kinani warriors dropping one after another, but he did not care anymore. Blood ran down Abimnupal¡¯s chin. He was not dead, but seemingly breathed his life out with every ragged sigh and cough. He looked Crewslayer straight into the eyes.


    ¡°That was a finest blow I ever did,¡± he gasped, ¡°And the bastard still dodged.¡±


    ¡°Do not speak, you will mess your lungs further,¡± uttered Ymdaton, gritting his teeth.


    ¡°I won¡¯t need them in the West,¡± his friend smiled weakly, ¡°Listen, I don¡¯t like your expression. Do not be foolish, do not go avenging me right after I fade. You will lose and you know it. Look,¡± he nodded towards the bridge¡¯s edge.


    Crewslayer quickly glanced there and saw nothing. He turned back at Abimnupal, fearing his friend would go away once left without attention. But the dying warrior was urging him to look again silently. On a second try Ymdaton saw a small empty boat sailing down the river. It was barely distinguishable in the darkness.


    ¡°Those on the brim see further,¡± chuckled Abimnupal, his laugh turning into coughing, ¡°Take one or two sacks and jump into it. You can still do something useful for our lord with them. You can hire a mercenary squad or buy a whole caravan of food. The river will carry you away. It is better than dying there in the name of honour and vengeance, trust me. Azytenisar will still need you and there is nothing you can do for me, or for them,¡± he tilted his head towards the battle, ¡°Go, what are you waiting for!¡±


    ¡°I will drag you with me,¡± said Ymdaton.


    His eyes ached, he choked on the words.


    Abimnupal shook his head. He did it three times, to the left, then to the right, then to the left, and then he did not move anymore.


    Crewslayer closed the eyes of his friend and stood up.


    There were but eight warriors fighting Svyatogor now. They would not last long, he knew it. Ymdaton detected a scared pack bakhmat in the darkness. He put his axe into the loop on his belt and snatched a sack of gold from animal¡¯s side with his one good hand. With this baggage he sprinted to the edge of the bridge and jumped.


    The boat was passing nearby and he managed to land right into it. The vessel flew under bridge and begun sailing away from it. Creslayer glanced back and saw lights still flickering, shadows still moving there. Probably no one noticed his escape. He looked forward. He did not know where the river of blood was flowing to, but its flow was fast and carried him away, which was the most important.


    There was a loud impact against the wood and the boat rocked violently. Ymdaton knew what happened without looking back, but he did not want to believe.


    He grasped his axe and turned to face Svyatogor, whose dark silhouette towered over him in the night. Behind was the bridge, now more than fifteen steps away. A human being was not supposed to be able to jump that far. There was an ugly cut on warrior¡¯s cheek, his white beard was darkened with blood. Crewslayer attacked without hesitation. That was when he noticed that the foe wielt no weapons. Perhaps he left them behind so he could jump better. Ymdaton¡¯s attacks were futile as before. The warrior avoided them, parried with armguards, slapped the blade away with his palms.


    But his movements were not as unreadable as before. They were still hard to follow, yet Crewslayer saw them now. He did not understand the change at first. But then it became apparent to him: they fought aboard, the boat was rocking on the waves. Ymdaton was used to this sensation for he was a marine and participated in boarding actions countless times. His foe was a land dweller, albeit an extremely dangerous one. He was not clumsy, his skill was too great to allow it, yet the kinani man had just the advantage that he needed.


    He made several feints in order to position his weapon inside enemy¡¯s guard. He did not manage to do it with a blade facing in the right direction, yet the butt of the axe was fine enough. He caught a moment when the boat soared up and made a rising swing. The rocking of the vessel added to his own speed and provided just enough momentum to surprise the foe. The hit connected.


    Blunt side of the axe smashed into Svyatogor''s jaw. Two teeth, shining white in the night as pieces of ice flew out of his mouth and vanished in the river.


    The warrior pierced Ymdaton with a stare.


    ¡°Have you had your fill?¡± asked he without a hint of anger in his voice.


    Then the man¡¯s fist was near Ymdaton¡¯s chest, instantly, without any visible movement. He grasped the crewmen by the hauberk and lifted him into the air with ease. Crewslayer tried to hit him, but was not quick enough. Svyatogor swung him around and smashed into the boat¡¯s bottom. The vessel shattered into pieces.


    Ymdaton was picked up by the river, spinned and tossed around. He tried to swim or the shore, yet drevlyani armour which served him so well during past moons was now dragging him down. He managed to lift his head over the surface and catch few gulps of air, but then sunk completely.


    He struggled against the current to to avail, until it threw him against a boulder. He got hit to the head. His consciousness submerged into the darkness just as his body came down to the river bed.

 Chapter XXXIX: Akin and Apart

    Rulership granted many subtle benefits. For example, subjects provided him with a really nice chair. Not a throne, but the chair that resided in his private chambers. It was crafted of fine wood, its back was curved in a way that supported human spine in a most comfortable way. It was not too tall and not too small, just high enough to take the strain off legs. It was quite sturdy, its parts were connected masterfully, so that junctures were not obvious at the first glance. It never made a sound when put under weight. With a soft pelt of some forest predator thrown atop, it became the vehicle of supreme cosy passtime.


    Azytenisar, lord of Abeneewy, knez of Khladnetz, have already woke up, bathed, eaten, and got clad in royal robes. He still had plenty of time before the first entry of his royal schedule. For now he decided to spend rare free moments with a book. In his beloved chair he sat absorbed by the foliant which laid at his lap.


    The massive tome in a leathery cover, with parchment pages, was ¡°Chronicles of Eranshar¡± by a scholar called Dagan, which he brought from Isary. It told of the rise and reign of Arsaci empire, ending some eighty years before it was finally shattered by the Cursed One. His reading was not pointless entertainment. No nation in Sea Betwixt sported more skilled chroniclers than Arsaci. Every conquered town, no matter how small; every decree of a king, not matter how meaningless; everything was recorded in this book, at least with a paragraph.


    There was the attempted conquest of Polovci, a nation so prideful that instead bowing their heads and accepting the life under the rule of the heavenly king, they left their beloved steppe and fled into the ancient forest that was but a scary tale for their children before.


    There was the advance into the same forest fifty years later, which finished miserably with troops getting scourged by unknown diseases, getting lost in the woods en masse, even deserting with the excuse of meeting something terrifying deeper in the groves.


    Not much words were spent by the author to describe these events. The former was not a big victory and ultimately got but a footnote in the chronicle, while the later was more of a failure, and Dagan, did not want to show the ruling dynasty being capable of such petty mistakes.


    Azytenisar saw that the chronicler¡¯s heart desired to deliver truth. Perhaps he did not spend great amount of words telling of these events, or did not explain them in most direct manner. Yet a man of a keen mind could see the message that Dagan left between the lines. Not only there were core facts, but also more obscure notions, which could help Azytenisar to rule over descendants of Polovci, who were calling themselves Drevlyani now.


    Doors leading in the chamber were massive and heavy, almost two palms thick. A woman or a child would have struggled to swing both open. When a knocking came on them, the wood almost completely dampened the sound. Knez read until the end of the line and only then answered.


    ¡°Come.¡±


    One of the doors moved but a quarter of its full path. A serf slipped into the room, visibly sorry to disturb his lord.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Master, distinguished Sumiaton the Venator arrived. He wishes to speak to you,¡± said the man, while bowing respectfully.


    ¡°He came in person,¡± that was more of a statement than a question from Azytenisar. His face displayed almost unremarkable shadow of a surprise.


    The serf nodded.


    ¡°Send him in at once,¡± commanded houselord, putting his book aside.


    The serf again nodded and hastily left the chamber. Some time passed, then Sumiaton himself arrived. Serfs closed the doors behind him and two men faced each other.


    ¡°My lord. My knez,¡± the venator bowed his head slightly.


    ¡°Greetings, Sumiaton,¡± Azytenisar did not raise from his chair, ¡°It is an unexpected visit. I thought you were too busy recently.¡±


    ¡°I did not have the opportunity to congratulate you on the war won.¡±


    ¡°I am obliged to admit your part in this victory now. And I am not denying it, we both know how the siege would have ended without your efforts. Still, you insult me by playing these games. Go and pose for the crowd, they will be more than willing to cheer for you. Do not try to trick me into singing you praises. You don¡¯t need this, your conceit is solid enough.¡±


    Azytenisar did not raise his voice. His words were like a stroke of an executioner: without fury, without passion, yet chilling and terrifying. Sumiaton was not visibly taken aback, he made a peaceful gesture with a weak smile.


    ¡°Nevermind,¡± said he, ¡°But mine effort was at most the half of the victory. You managed to surprise even me with you tactical decisions, ¡±he pointed at the foliant which now was residing at a low desk, ¡°Now I see where it did come from. You played a trick upon land dwellers which probably but two of us in the whole city could understand.¡±


    ¡°Meaning?¡±.


    ¡°That charge is a tactic of Arsaci kings. The empire building move, crushing your enemies with a tide of armoured cavalry. That is how many of their former lands were won over. That is probably what have driven drevlyani into this forest, away from their steppes. And recently you crushed them again with the same method. Not a single one of them remembers anymore.¡±


    ¡°You are giving too much of a poetic meaning to it,¡± Azytenisar rose, ¡°I do not think that you came here to give compliments. Or to get them. Tell me, what is it you want.¡±


    ¡°I found something quite interesting. And I want to show you it. Personally,¡± Sumiaton¡¯s face was unreadable.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have time for that dramatic narrating of yours,¡± there was a faintest suggestion of annoyance in Azytenisar¡¯s voice. His expression did not support it.


    ¡°I am not trying to sound ominous, I swear,¡± the venator was friendliness incarnate, ¡°It is just that my finding can not be properly explained by words. You should see for yourself. Let¡¯s say, that I found a threat to your rule hidden right in the city.¡±


    ¡°Proceed.¡±


    ¡°Some of drevlyani still cling to old ways. They want their guardian to return. I located tangible proofs of this. A place of meeting for them. I want to show you, yet it is most delicate matter, as I see it. So I want you to come with me to its location.¡±


    ¡°These are not news for me. There are followers of the old faith, those who believe in the mighty creature that the guardian was. If you heard Ymdaton¡¯s report, you know, that it is worthy of worship,¡± Azytenisar combed his beard, ¡°I value your opinion though. If you think it is gaining dangerous momentum, well. I am on tight schedule. Even for such a dire occasion. Come to the gates of my residence two hours before dusk. Bring the minimal entourage. It is a delicate matter, as you said, so we better not attract too much attention. I will go with you and look for myself.¡±


    ¡°As wise as ever,¡± bowed the venator, ¡°Until the evening then, my lord.¡±


    Azytenisar said nothing. He waited until Sumiaton has left the room and then, when he was alone, let out a single sigh.

 Chapter XXXX: Theres Smoke

    At the appointed time the venator arrived at the house of knez, accompanied by Ahyq and Ulhon. There was already a party waiting for him: Azandahy, who greeted Sumiaton with a stinging look, another member of High Crew who bore an absent expression, and a warrior in full dreavlyani armour.


    ¡°Good evening, fellow crewmen,¡± said the hunter, ¡°You are the entourage for today, I suppose. But where is our master?¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t you even spot me by the posture? Than is not the keen hunter¡¯s eye that I know,¡± came a shrug from under warrior¡¯s aventail.


    ¡°What¡¯s with the masquerade?¡± raised his brow Sumiaton, while his two companions bowed respectfully to their lord.


    ¡°This is supposed to be a covert business,¡± told disguised Azytenisar, ¡°Besides, recently I gained too much of a popularity among people. They tend to prostrate themselves as I pass by, that is getting rather annoying.¡±


    The venator did not answer anything, only snorted quietly.


    ¡°Lead at once,¡± ordered him knez. And so the hunter did.


    Six men did not travel far. They crossed three streets and walked up the fourth one for a short time, before Sumiaton stopped in front of a certain fence. There was a two storey house visible behind it. He approached gates and pushed them in. Kinani entered into the small courtyard, which was covered in dirt, broken branches, and other stuff, which was apparently left there by rain and snow.


    ¡°What is this place and why is it abandoned?¡± asked Azytenisar, circling the desolation around with a long look.


    ¡°That was a house of a goldsmith,¡± told the Venator, ¡°The successful one, he was quite popular with the men of wealth in Khladnetz, crafted a lot of trinkets for their wives. When the recent war hung above the city as a raised sword, he ran away, taking his whole family and all belongings. My sources tell that he resides in a town called Kriva Bashta now. My comrades searched through the house in his absence and found something interesting inside. Come in and see.¡±


    ¡°Firstly,¡± knez lifted his hand, halting his companions, ¡°I don¡¯t want to know what you and your friends were searching for in the empty house of the goldsmith. Secondly, never again do such a thing without my permission. No man should have right to walk into the house of another one and perform search there without my decree. People should feel secure in their own homes, unless you want a rebellion.¡±


    Sumiaton hesitated for a moment, but then bowed.


    ¡°I understand. Still, come in, please.¡±


    They walked in and the hunter led them through the house. It looked just as deserted inside as from the outside. They reached what was supposed to be kitchen. The Venator nodded to Ahyq and the warrior pushed a massive barrel which was situated in the corner of the room. A trapdoor was revealed where it previously stood. Sumiaton opened it, displaying wooden stairs beneath. Ulhon produced a torch from his sack and ignited it. Taking the torch, the hunter led the party down the stairs.


    There was a whole chamber beneath the level of the ground. The ceiling was high enough so that no man needed to hunch. The floor was covered with rugs. Azandahy kneeled and studied the rug under his feet. It was old and worn down, with fur being especially flat in a certain spot.


    ¡°It is where men kneeled regularly,¡± told Azytenisar who noticed the object of his subject¡¯s attention. Houselord pointed his hand forward, ¡°Before this.¡±


    Everyone looked into the center of the room. There was a massive silhouette, eight cubits high and almost four wide. It consisted of simple curved lines, almost geometrical shapes. It was a stylized sculpture carved from a single tree trunk, yet still recognizable at the first look. A calmly sitting feline creature, all its paws placed together, its spine and neck straight, its tail coiled around the body, its eyes gazing directly forward.


    A statue of a guardian it was. Before the carved figure were placed many bowls of various shapes. The glittered in the light of the torch, making obvious the precious metal that they were made from.


    ¡°So strange,¡± broke the silence Ahyq. Everyone looked at him, ¡°I mean, we always leave windows in our shrines, so that we can see the stars. But they worship underground, in dungeons.¡±This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°They are forced here by us,¡± told Azytenisar, ¡°They like the night sky just as much as you do, trust me. It is we who won¡¯t allow them to pray under it.¡±


    Knez removed his helmet and gazed at the statue with a thoughtful look.


    ¡°What makes you think that this is dangerous? I knew such places existed. That is to be expected.¡±


    The Venator approached the statue. He reached to its bottom with a hand and retrieved a piece of parchment that was tucked between the base of the idol and the floor. Azytenisar glanced there and noticed many more similar parchments there. Sumiaton brought it close to the torch and read aloud.


    ¡°O mighty guardian. You left us for whatever sins we have committed. We are unworthy of your attention. And now we are stepping into the war that would have been abhorrent to you. But I know that you are the merciful lord. This conflict is born of human undoings, and you were the one to save us from them. People will die, we will understand the wrongness of our decisions and the greatness of your wisdom again. That is the inevitable future.


    But you were the merciful lord. So, please, I beg you, show mercy to my son, Dalnoglyad, who is forced to fight in this war. Because of decisions of mighty men, he has no choice. But neither he, nor his family wanted it. See him through, o mighty guardian. I will be eternally grateful to you, bringing most generous sacrifices every seventh day until the end of my life.¡±


    He looked Azytenisar in the eyes.


    ¡°You heard it. These are the kind of people who worship this wooden idol. They are against your decisions. They talk to the absent lord. How long will it take for the carved tree to talk back? To tell them to remove the man who forces them into wrong ways. This is dangerous. This faith must be rooted out before it is too late.¡±


    ¡°You are too straightforward,¡± shook his head the lord of Abeneewy, ¡°For now they have the relief of talking to a statue. Leave it to them, while doing right things, while making the city strong and prosperous. While doing what I am doing. And they will see that their lives are getting better, with or without the idol. Then it will gradually turn into the routine ritual without much devotion. And then it will be of no harm. But remove the faith from them now and they will have no way to vent out the frustration caused by changes. They will turn to violence. That is not the solution.¡±


    ¡°So you would not act?¡± asked Sumiaton.


    ¡°I told my will,¡± knez was resolute.


    ¡°This faith is dangerous. It is only the matter of time until they try something. You don¡¯t want to cause more violence right after the war, I understand, but the measures must be taken.¡±


    ¡°I told my will,¡± repeated Azytenisar, iron in his voice.


    The venator stopped talking for a moment.


    ¡°I warned you, remember this,¡± told Sumiaton. He was not complaining, but some degree of disappointment could be heard in his words.


    ¡°Thank you for your efforts, but decisions in this city are all mine to make,¡± knez uttered calmly, ¡°If we are done hear, allow me to return to the business of ruling it.¡±


    There was silence as an answer to his words and Azytenisar left the chamber of worship alongside his two bodyguards. So did Sumiaton not before long.


    Azytenisar lied in the dark, covered with a warm blanket. For some reason drevlyani supplied him with a giant square shaped bed. It was pointless for so many reasons: his wife was left behind on Isary, knez himself was not the kind of man who needed luxury. He would have been fine with a simple sleeping place, all that space only took away comfort. He rolled again and again, switching positions and parts of the bed, not getting soothed at all.


    Not only physical sensations troubled houselord. Thoughts raced through his mind: of reports of troops from neighbouring states moving, of predictions of harvest in Khladnetz, of works on restoring fortifications. The sky was not clear at all, that would be the right saying, he thought. He needed Ymdaton¡¯s caravan to return as soon as possible. The city needed reinforcements, it needed resources, it needed High Crew defending it.


    When he finally fallen into sleep, his darkened thoughts found their way into his dreams, as rain might leak through a decrepit roof. Lines of trees passed by at the left and at the right. There was no beginning and no end to them. Only the road between, by which the procession of burdened animals passed. Azytenisar rode amongst them.


    His bakhmat advanced in a steady stride. Beside him were his trusty warriors, saddled upon similar beasts. It was bizarre to see crewmen riding mounts en masse. Still, he felt so assured and powerful among the ranks of High Crew. These were his best warriors, with them at his side there was no task too difficult.


    Everything was fine except the smell. It perturbed his nostrils, forcing knez to glance around, searching for a torch in someone¡¯s hand. There was none. Soon they left the forest, which ended abruptly, giving way to marshes. Behind the soaked grounds there glittered an immense body of the water.


    Lake Volnitza, so great and majestic that it could have been a sea in its own right. On the shore a town could be seen, protected by wooden walls just as Khladnetz was. Darkened clouds were rising and taking off from the city. Reddish glares danced upon its roofs. There was the source of the smell. Suddenly he felt a strong hand upon his shoulder.


    ¡°My lord, it is burning! My lord! My lord!¡± came the voice from his side.


    Azytenisar turned his head and his cheek met a surface of a pillow, bringing him back into the waking world. With unfocused eyes he looked at the one who was talking to him. It was Azandahy. The warrior was grabbing him by the shoulder, his whole appearance signaling inner protest against such familiarity towards his lord. Still, there was a resolution in his eyes, which told of a dire situation which forced him to put aside formalities.


    ¡°The house is burning, my lord. We should get out at once,¡± repeated he.

 Chapter XXXXI: Empire Building Move

    Knez sprung up, grabbing a sword and the gemmed shield that were kept close to his bed. Seeing him armed, yet still dressed in a nightshirt was amusing, a notion Azandahy wouldn¡¯t dare to say aloud.


    ¡°Let us be going,¡± told houselord.


    When the two of them left the bedroom, Azytenisar¡¯s three other bodyguards were already waiting in chambers outside. Five men crossed the living chambers, being urged to move faster by rising heat, crackling of fires somewhere just behind the wall, and the smoke which began creeping in.


    Azandahy led the way, he swung doors leading to the stairs with a violent move and almost stepped into the hell behind. He stopped, his foot smashing into the floor as soon as it was raised to make a next step. Before him was a terrifying mess of collapsed stairway, bent support beams, all engulfed in raging conflagration. He smacked the door shut and turned to the party.


    ¡°We should find another way.¡±


    They returned to the central chamber. Azytenisar pondered at the fact that there were no panicking serfes. Did they all escape already, leaving only him and bodyguards behind? Ulhon approached windows and, opening shutters, glanced outside.


    ¡°Four storeys high,¡± sighed he, ¡°The residence no doubt looked majestic, but it is very impractical right now.¡±


    ¡°Someone will come,¡± proposed another bodyguard, ¡°This is the house of knez. They will come to save our lord with ladders and such.¡±


    With a troubled face Azandahy strode into bedroom, which was connected directly by doors. Everyone followed him with eyes except for lord of Abeneewy. He simply stood in the middle of the room and waited patiently. Not before long his bodyguard returned, just as he expected.


    He dragged a construction made of a bedsheet, blanket, and a rug, which were bound with knots at the ends. The crewman neared the window, secured the improvised rope with a loop around the shutter and threw the rest outside.


    ¡°The fall will still hurt, but we won¡¯t break our legs,¡± said he.


    As if to prove himself, the warrior crawled out of the window and climbed down his motley rope. At the end of it he was till almost two storeys above the ground. Azandahy dropped down, making a roll forward instantly after his feet touched the ground. He got up the same moment and waved to other men who were observing him through windows. One by one the came down in the same manner, escaping the room which was now full of smoke and ready to be consumed by flames any moment.


    The party left the courtyard and headed through the city. Everything around them was burning either brightly and spectacularly or dimly as it was already turned to cinders. Kinani men reached the crossing of three streets and met the first group of people thus far.


    Countless civilians chaotically surged past, running for their lives, crying out for their lost kin, carrying various goods into safety. They pushed and kicked each other, trying to escape the fire first and foremost by themselves. There were also militiamen, trying to enforce some kind of order upon the crowd, saving weaker people from being trampled to death. They were not very successful at it. There was no sign of kinani other than the four of High Crew and houselord.


    Azytenisar scanned the stampede with grim look.


    ¡°Give me the high ground,¡± ordered he his crewmen.


    Two crewmen reacted immediately. One of the took out his shield and two warriors gripped it be opposite edges, holding it horizontally. Knez stepped upon bulwark and bodyguards raised it, elevating his master over the heads of the crowd. Azytenisar took out his sword and swung it up, pointing to the sky.


    ¡°I order you to stop and heed your knez!¡± he yelled. There was a power behind his voice besides loudness. Resolve was heard in it, as well as unquestionable authority. Those commands flew through the gathering of people, breaking through the noise of the flames and through the moaning of its victims as the keel of the sheep cuts through the waves. All the eyes were turned to him instantly. Dreavlyani calmed just enough to listen.


    ¡°Someone from militia report on the shortest and most secure path to the safety,¡± said lord of Abeneewy.


    ¡°It is down the Seraya road,¡± yelled drevlyani warriors and pointed his hand just there.


    ¡°Militiamen, heed me,¡± ordered Azytenisar, ¡°Every twenty steps on the path towards the safety there should stand one of you, showing the way and making sure that people head there. The chain created that way should stretch from here and to the edge of the conflagration. Whoever is left free when the chain is created, should uphold order in the crowd. Women, children and elderly are to be allowed forward. Whatever grown man tries to force his way past and out is to be cut down where he stands with no mercy. Such are my orders.¡±Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    There was a pause, as if the crowd digested the words and then militiamen proceeded to perform knez¡¯s will. Civilians followed them and the battering among them was now much less intense.


    ¡°Are there any measures taken to fight the flames?¡± asked houselord nearest militiaman.


    The man did not answer, instead he glanced left and right nervously, ringing with his aventail. Azytenisar raised a brow. This very moment another dreavlyani warrior who was closeby reported.


    ¡°The Great Hunter Sumiaton leads the efforts outside the fire. Water hauling machines employed and also immense wet blankets which are put over houses so that the fire won¡¯t touch them.¡±


    The lord of Abeneewy nodded, but still he noted to himself the warrior who did not answer. His pauldrons had a bronze lining which glared when illuminated by flames. Not long after, the crowd was lessened by half, many of people already led to safety, That was when one of militia approached Azytenisar with a report.


    ¡°My lord,¡± told he with a voice which suggested fear, ¡±Firefighters report of a giant monster from the forest that approaches our position. It breaks down buildings in its path. A squad of militia tried to intercept it but was wiped out.¡±


    Azytenisar allowed himself a moment of silent thought. Then he turned his head towards Azandahy.


    ¡°I won¡¯t leave you there,¡± told him warrior, not waiting for his lord to speak.


    ¡°Your concerns for my safety are noted, but dismissed. My will is for you and Ulhon to take as many militia as you need and go stall that creature¡¯s advance. If it reaches civilians, then there will be slaughter that we can not do anything about.¡±


    ¡°But my lord,¡± Azandahy was obviously frustrated, ¡°Why me?¡±


    ¡°I do not like to send people to their death. And now only you two could survive the encounter, I believe.¡±


    ¡°My lord, listen,¡± the warrior did not give up, ¡°As far as I can see, this whole catastrophe is but an assassination attempt. What about the stairs in your residence which were so conveniently destroyed? I won¡¯t left you alone while someone wishes to end your life.¡±


    ¡°Now listen to me,¡± Azytenisar became visibly angry, ¡°There is always someone who wishes to end my life. You are welcome to protect it just as long as I want you to. Now begone! Either go and do as I will or never return.¡±


    Azandahy did not say anything else. He exhaled loudly and turned away. He strode through the crowd, pointing on the way for some of militia to follow him. Soon he, alongside Ulhon and a dozen of armed men disappeared behind the corner of the road.


    Time passed, last civilians were led to safety and knez was left at the crossing with his two bodyguards and militiamen. Azytenisar, now standing on the ground, gazed in the direction where Azandahy headed. Flames still burned around them, perhaps not so mighty as they were in the beginning, yet still powerful as great red waves in the black storm. There was no sign of the party returning.


    ¡°We should head after them,¡± told he to drevlyani.


    He began moving, yet no one except two crewmen followed his example. He looked at militia. They were standing there silently, all eyes fixed on him. He noticed the warrior which ignored his question earlier among first ranks.


    Just now he saw disturbing signs: warriors stood in circle around him, in a manner that would not allow to step outside without moving one of them. Their postures were speaking of latent energy, their bodies being remarkably still, a calmness before the squall.


    Azytenisar¡¯s subconsciousness already made him lift his sword. His consciousness refused to acknowledge such an awful reality. The man with bronze lined pauldrons took and axe from his belt and stepped forward.


    ¡°I am sorry. You were not a bad ruler. I saw it today even more clearly,¡± told he in perfect kinani. All around him militia similarly unsheathed their weapons.


    Azytenisar, lord of Abeneewy, knez of Khladnetz, silently cursed Azandahy for never being wrong.


    Odwitchni forest was neither tranquil nor a beautiful place. He who knew how to listen, heard countless noises among its trees. He who knew what he heard, recognized ugly sounds of violence and death. Here a tiniest mouse was heading for its hole. It was not quiet enough to stay unnoticed. It would not see its home one more time, ambushed and crushed between the jaws of a coiling scaled predator.


    There the serpent, now bloated with its devoured prize, slid through the grass. Hidden as it was, still it could not hide itself from the great pair of furry ears. And so its neck came between the fangs of a soft stepping graceful hunter, all its venom proving to be a meager defence.


    The feline for all its skill and agility was not without fault either. Here it made a mistake of walking into the spot too open from above, a glade. But a moment was needed for the stalker of the skies to drop down and nail its talons into cat¡¯s spine. A beak to the head ended its struggle for survival rather quickly.


    The bird of prey did not win that day either. It falsely assumed its superiority, thinking that to soar in the sky is the answer to all dangers beneath. When it glided over the surface of water a stream struck it. The bird plummeted down and was caught by the maker of the watery missile. A maw most terrible rose from red waters, armored with thick scales, blinking with bulbous eyes, wide enough to swallow a boar whole. It would have been a worthy sea monster, if it ever found its way to the bigger waters. And so the endless chain continued, too long to be described in any book.


    The splash produced by the spawn of the deep reached the shore and there landed upon a cheek of a man. The man was woken by it. Images of his last battle still flashed before his eyes, he tried jump to his feet and continue the fight. The attempt was not successful at all, but quite painful. He lied there, breathing fast, his mind finding ways to comprehend recent events. After a lot of excruciating efforts the man finally managed to sit. Then, after some time, he stood.


    His body was damaged, awfully so. Yet he could walk. His armour was broken, dirty, partially lost, yet it still covered him. The world swayed before his eyes, yet less so as the time passed. He could see the stars. He could discern the direction to the west.


    And so he walked. He left the shore and entered the forest which was neither tranquil nor beautiful. He headed west. While he was still alive, no matter what, he would be needed there.