City

Vtorak examined the stick on the ground with interest. His hands were already wrapped around an impressive armful of brushwood, and, being in a light prostration after a whole day's journey, he seriously plunged into thought about whether to take this stick for a bonfire too. Who knows how long he would have stood like that if there hadn't been a cry nearby. The warrior released brushwood and drew his sword on the run. He raced, wading through the dry branches of the bush, like the wind. When Vtorak ran out into the clearing, he discovered a strange upright, hairless creature. It was like an eyeless, upright lizard. He was not inferior to a man by height. His long tail curled behind him. Vtorak was struck by the fact that he wore normal camping clothes. The creature seemed to be a cross between the beast and the lizard, since some parts of its body (for example, the scruff of the neck) were covered with a liquid six, but a wide scarlet crest stretched from head to tip of the tail, which, apparently, should have allowed it to swim well. Two leathery crests of ears also diverged from the head on the sides. Long fingers ended in small but pretty sharp claws. On the muzzle extended forward, with large nostrils at the end, eyes were absent. Four massive, but not too long, fangs protruded from under the lips, hiding smaller sharp teeth. The creature did not cause apparent rejection. Vtorak ran closer and saw the reason for the heart-rending cry issued by this creature: a man in a metal mask and green robes, now tattered and painted with scarlet, spread out on the ground in front of him. His sword and shield lay on the ground nearby. Vtorak immediately recognized in him the leper knight Chetaka. What a terrible end.

- Rosha was on his way! - the creature exclaimed desperately in a creaky voice, - He wanted to catch a bird! He looked up. Suddenly he stepped on something soft... looking, and there!..

- Calm down, Rosha. Who are you?

- Do not think, warrior, that Rosha could have done such a thing to a knight! He is not a fighter at all! Rosha wanders! He is coming from a distant land! He was in the south and was in the north! Looks at the birds. Looks at people. He thinks a lot. Birds eats. Sometimes.

- I don't think you could do that. You don't even have a weapon.

- There are no weapons at all! - confirmed Rosha.

- Whoever kills him, we should be on our guard. Eh... I knew him. I need to say goodbye to him, as befits.

- Rosha will help! He regrets your loss! - Vtorak looked around and listened. Even if the killer was still hiding somewhere behind the trees, then his intention was not to betray himself. The animal also looked around.

- Wait here, I'm going for a comrade.

- Aha! - The animal nodded and crouched to the ground, putted his legs folded under himself. It took the time to bring Hali to the clearing. Rosha still obediently sat on the ground, patting his knees with boredom. Seeing the body, the old man turned white with horror.

- This is Chetaka! Not a single leper knight entered the valley exept him, - he said.

- Did you know each other?

- Not personally, but he, like me, served the light. He was also the Hand of the dwarf Gods... how bitter to see him like that...

- At least he wanted to die in battle, and he succeeded. Let's try to collect the remains. By the way, Rosha.

- Yes?

- I have never seen people like you? Where does your people live?

- He is a karatan, - Hali answered calmly, - you, Vtorak, have never been to Stargrad. Trade routes established again after the Great Fire intersect there. You will meet there any tipe of people... They can hunt in the salty water of distant seas and on land, but they have enough small game for food. They say that they can feel the energy radiated by objects... so this compensate for the lack of vision.

- This is true! - Rosha nodded, and the skin on the corners of his mouth parted slightly, as if in a smile.

- We have no tools to dig, Vtorak, - said the knight, - We need to lay down a funeral pyre.

- Good, - all three scattered through the forest to collect as much brushwood as possible. When it got completely dark, Chetaka's body was laid on the harvested firewood and set on fire. His clothes caught fire quickly. Blood hissed on fire. The three wanderers stood opposite, drenched by the heat of fire and were silent. The old man was the first to break the silence:

- In these parts the cult of Akshayah is strong. If Chetaka, like us, was sent to defeat the cultists, then he could well lose in such a battle. The disease exhausted him - in some places, burnt clothing revealed an ugly picture. Warrior parts deformed by leprosy completely ceased to resemble a human body. It was hard to imagine him in battle now. His flesh has grown considerably since his last meeting with Vtorak many years ago.

- It's amazing that he lived so long, - said Vtorak.

- He was a faithful follower of the light. Dwarfs seriously slowed down the development of the disease, however, even they did not have the power to stop it. Or they had no reasons...

- In our cities there is no leprosy, - said Rocha. - The Keepers of power have worn out the whole illness.

- Keepers of power?

- This is an ancient monastic order, - Hali answered to the question of Vtorak, - They appeared in the south. The fame of these monks lives in the legends of how, dying, they transferred their strength and knowledge to their disciples. Of course, many of them died in the battles, not having time to transfer the accumulated, but there were those who succeeded. For this they were called the Keepers of power. They mastered hypnotic techniques of suggestion at such a level that many battles with them ended in the fact that the enemies themselves killed themselves. They could control the energies in their body, they could make body harder than the rocks so that the sword could not cut through the skin. Who now knows if all this is true... And if it was true once, are they capable of it all now.

- And who do they serve?

- Oh, you are all very simple to think here! - waved Rosha's hand, - Monks are free from the trash of light and darkness! They know the secret to power.

- What is it?

- Balance are the basis of everything. So say the monks.

- In the south, another philosophy, Vtorak, is common. They have no concept of good and evil. They believe only in the return of the deed.

- Says exactly! Right! - clumsy nodded Rosha. - What you do will come back later. We think so!

- What do these monks do if they do not fight injustice? - surprised Vtorak, - Why then should they keep their strength?

- Most of them are high-class mercenaries. A very dear honor to hire them to your army. But to buy them is usually the same as to buy a victory.

- Our warriors are legends! - boasted Rosha, - The armies scattered, seeing the Guardians of power in the ranks of the enemy! Ours are able to fight.

- You saw them? asked Vtorak.

- A couple of times, - Rocha hesitated. - Rocha is not a fighter. He does not happen in battles. Those who were in the battles have seen them.

- The salty sea separates us from the southern lands, - said Khali. - Rarely do any of you get to these parts.

- Rosha wanted to look at others. He wanted to look at the ashen lands.

- Impressed? - Sortedly asked Vtorak.

- Everything is gray, - Rosha nodded.

- Yes, gray, - the knight agreed, - And we also have a little water, because it's all in underground cavities.

- We also have few! Sand takes away, - He said. In the meantime, the bonfire burned out, and in the heap of ashes only glowing armor to glitter remained. Hali gingerly tooked Chetaka's mask from the ground with a wand and fastened it to his belt when it cooled slightly.

- You will not be forgotten, leper warrior, - said the knight, - Your memory will live in legends and ballads. Vtorak...

- Yes?

- At night we will take turns to sleep. Who knows what the cultists conceived...

- I agree, - said the warrior, and both went toward the camp. Rosha was left in the middle of the meadow alone. He looked around: the dark forest silently held its breath, watching what was happening, not in a hurry to reveal its secrets. Somewhere, an owl sniffed and Rosha, screeching in fright, rushed to catch up with the soldiers.

- Rosha is afraid alone now! Rosha will go with you! He will not interfere! He knows how to hunt birds... - Khali and Vtorak stopped, and Rocha almost crashed into them on the move. The warriors looked at each other.

- Then you get up the first in the night watch, - the knight concluded.

The night passed calmly. Even if the cultists followed the travelers, they were not going to attack two warriors at once and did not betray themselves. All three in turn was on the patrol and the next morning set off. Rosha was surprisingly successful in bird hunting. His slender fingers were remarkable for their amazing strength, thanks to which he famously climbed trees, clinging to the bark with his claws, and caught birds on the fly, after which, in the blink of an eye, he unscrewed its head and rather skillfully plucked feathers. The karatan was rather strange, but smart and talkative, although at times it struck with naivety and awkwardness. Climbing trees was obviously much easier for him than walking on the ground. Soon, the city walls appeared ahead. The suburbs stood among the uncleared ruins of the predecessor city destroyed by the fire. Between the city and the travelers there now stretched the battlefield, the battle had passed, apparently quite recently. From afar, the bodies of the slain, remaining stuck in the ground and a lot of spears and arrows, were already visible.

- So, Delius has already been here, - said Hali sadly, - But who is now sitting on the throne of Stargrad?

- We didn't have time for the battle and didn't take sides, we are just wanderers, so we have no enemies. There is nothing to be afraid of. Let's go see for yourself, - Vtorak said.

- Apparently, so, - the old man agreed. They went down to the battlefield. The sour smell of ripped guts was still above the ground. Rocha frowned, grumbled and stuck his nose by fingers. Vtorak slipped on blood and nearly knocked Rosha down, waving his arms for balance, but still remain stood.

- The battle has stopped recently, - said the warrior.

- That is much better, - the knight replied, - Delhi will not have time to do anything terrible if he ulready won the fight.

Entering the city, travelers found the warriors of Delius roaming everywhere. Vtorak was surprised to note that the rebel commander did not plunder and ruin the city, but only occupied it, subjugating its inhabitants. The knight led Vtorak and Rosha along the streets straight to the knyaz's tower. Vtorak liked the neat houses of the suburbs, which were located outside the city walls, but it was impossible not to fall in love with the houses inside the city walls. They were elegant stone buildings with columns and capitals, incomparable sculptures on the facades and marble high reliefs on the walls. The only wooden structure in the city was the prince's tower. According to Hali, it was built from the oldest oaks with the help of special, enchanted tools. It towered majestically over the city, whole tower was carving adorned from top to bottom. Many peerless wooden statues stood on its roof and in the niches of the walls, at the entrance and inside its premises. The roof, instead of tiles, was covered with copper shields of once defeated enemies. Only these shields survived the fire. Only these shields have remained from that time to the present. Vtorak could not believe that such splendor could have been created after the tragedy of the Great Fire. The warrior admired not only the architecture of the city, but also its inhabitants. Noble men and women wore spacious clothes made of multi-colored fabrics and bright jewelry made of precious metals and stones. Usually, these outfits covered the figure of a person as a whole, however, one could notice young women and men boldly revealing their beautiful sculptural bodies. Bandaging fabrics with colored ribbons, they attracted each other's eyes with their incomparable beauty. Merchants dazzled travelers with a variety of beautiful clothes. It was immediately noticeable that these people gathered here, arriving from very distant places. Dressed in furs and leather, they stood at their shops selling the goods they brought. Here were not only people, but also shaggy northerners, as well as representatives of the bee-people of the Madumaks and even several karatans similar to Rosha. Poor people dressed in short gray shirts and pants, which were tied with a simple rope, or a sash. It was even somehow strange to see merchants in the streets while a bloody battlefield stretched beyond the city walls. Apparently, the townspeople sympathized with Delius and not one of his soldiers touched the civilians. No wonder, because in the army of Delius served the fathers, husbands and brothers of the townspeople.

The commander himself stood in the square in front of the prince's tower, watching his warriors set up a high carved idol. Delius's armor was still stained with blood, as was his cloak. This man obviously participated in the battle himself, moreover, he was obviously fighting in the forefront. The warrior stood with his hands on his hips, and imperiously examined his new possession. This fifty-year-old strong man had short hair and a clean-shaven face. The townspeople gathered around. Delius, having noticed this, addressed them with an impassioned speech:

- People of Stargrad! You know my name, and many of you are know my face! I faithfully served the interests of the city throughout my life and now I have come here not as an invader, but as a liberator! Your knyaz decided to reject the old Gods and forget their temples! He despised our traditions and faith, proposing a different path. He opened the city to foreign traders, corrected the interests of his own citizens, forgetting about you and your will. The great fire destroyed our cities! In sweat of the face and calluses of the palms we restored what the fire took from us! There is still much to be built, not time to think about trade, it is necessary to help artisans and builders - the people listened to every word of Delius. Vtorak decided that the people did not grieve over the ousted monarch, meanwhile the commander continued - the knyaz made many mistakes. He continued to honor the Pure, forcing you to forget about your true faith, about your real gods. But today, on the battlefield, our Gods showed their will and granted me victory! The Pure brought to our land only fires! Their Kingdom has collapsed and will soon be forgotten, but we continue to live and our Gods show us the way, offering protection to us! What will you answer the gods?! - the crowd lifted its fists and resolutely exclaimed "Heil to the gods!" Delius uttered a few more encouraging phrases, after which many people rejoiced. Vtorak looked at the knight:

- What are these gods? Is this the cult of Akshayah?

- No... Delius is not like a cultist. Something is wrong here... it was not without reason that we were sent here. I think the cult will still prove itself. I have friends here, so we'll stay with them for a while.

- I also have one man here... an old acquaintance. I'm probably going to visit him.