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Reapers Of Suffering 32
Having poured out on Tamir, Nurlisa went away. What drove the grandmother out into the street, she herself did not know. Either sudden melancholy, or a desire to breathe fresh air. Once in the courtyard of the Citadel, the old woman turned her nose, as if sniffing if it smelled of spring. Spring did not smell, where is it! It smelled of despair and grief that spilled like a viscous jelly and made it difficult to breathe deeply. This winter has brought many troubles, and how much more it will bring, only the Guardians know. Hrychovka hobbled towards the pillory, watched as Olst flogged the skinny lad who, with his eyes closed, writhed under the whip, spat at her feet, muttering: “Killers, everything is killers here, how the earth only wears you!” Circling around the yard, the grunt grappled with the groom, barked at the cook, wished Rusta, who had fallen in her way, to fail, and was about to return to her, when she ran into Bjerga: - Wow, bloodsucker, you again! There is no passage
Reapers Of Suffering 33
- Lesanka! - the dungeon was lit up by the bright light of a torch, and somewhere in the neighboring kutu an angry growl full of flour was heard. - Get out! The grate creaked as Veud pulled it towards him. The prisoner blinked. After sitting in the dark for a long time, the radiance of the fire cut the eyes weaned from the light. “Daren stood up for you before the head,” Vyud said, hastily tidying up the felt that had served the prisoner. - She says, they say, what to take from a girl-fool, she has already received her own, she has been fermenting for several days, it’s time to know the honor, otherwise, they say, everyone is busy with business, she alone is lying on her sides. So Ned blessed you to clean up the dead and the dead. He says you have to scrub the floors there for four weeks. Let's go, it's cold here, passion! Both hurried to the exit. The girl wandered from the casemate, in which she stank of prel from head to toe, and thought what bliss it was to stretch her stiff l
Reapers Of Suffering 34
Therefore, having finished, Lesana curled up on a cold hay and then remembered that ... she had almost no face. The next morning, her eyes would not open, she was swollen with bruises, and her nose was bruised ... The girl took several heavy breaths, gathering her strength. She raised her hand to her face. Inhale. Exhalation. All in the past. Inhale. Exhalation. A bluish glow slowly blossomed on the fingertips. Inhale. Exhalation. Eilisha did this when she treated Tamir. Pale sparks, like reflections of stars in water. Inhale. Exhalation. Weak tingling in the body. It will turn out. It should work. After all, it worked for Eilish. Inhale. Exhalation. Tomorrow she will not come out of her bed swollen and disfigured - a universal laughingstock, an occasion for gossip among students and evil joy of Donatos. Inhale. Exhalation. A pale glow seeped through the skin. Inhale. Exhalation. Lesana dropped her hand. From the incredible tension, her strength dried up, the novice fell
Reapers Of Suffering 35
The days spent between nightmares and reality slightly dulled Lesana's black longing. The girl got up and began to clean the closet. - Did you get up? - the old woman, who returned with a bucket of icy water, was surprised. - Got up... - Come, come here, wash yourself here. The student suddenly said bitterly: - You're messing around with me. Useless me. Worthless. The grandmother put her hands on her hips and asked caustically: - She invented it, al suggested who? - Itself. What kind of howl am I if I couldn’t fight back?! the girl suddenly cried out. Karga chuckled. – Howl... What kind of howl are you? You are a follower. About last year, you were only taught to jump and fall, to wave sticks, to pull the bowstring. In the autumn, they only began to mix with each other. And for the time being, you don’t know how to own your Gift at all. Howl... will say too! She sat down on the bench, wiping her sweaty forehead with the corner of her handkerchief. Lesana clenched her fists
Reapers Of Suffering 36
Lesana was carefully cleaning the soot-covered vat. Nurlisa shuffled along, shaking the junk from the chests. She took out one bundle of fabric, then another, laid them out, stroking them lovingly. It was hot, stuffy and ... blissful in the closet. During her monotonous work, the novice was carried away by her thoughts into the void. She didn’t think about anything, she just carefully rubbed the round iron sides, and enjoyed the warmth and roar of fire emanating from the furnace. “Look out,” Nurlis’s assistant would sometimes call out and show her another piece of fabric. - It seems like you didn’t catch it? The girl nodded in response. That was the whole point of their simple conversation. And the grandmother, like many old people, loved to ask empty questions and wait for an answer to them. - Avon, how firewood cracks! Come on, again this stoker from the stokers of one pine fell off me, but what, Lesanka? This question had to be answered with an invariable “yes”, otherwise Nur
Reapers Of Suffering 37
The climber has come. Severe, with frosts and snowstorms. For days on end, outside the walls of the Citadel, the wind howled, whined, whistled and beat, sweeping loose loose snowdrifts to the foot of the fortress. But Lesana still lived in the dungeons, rarely getting out to the surface. Daren, enraged by her clumsiness and inability, imposed a double duty on the novice, turning her into a second Nurlisa. Now she, too, carried firewood all day long, washed, rubbed, drowned. Here it is today... The girl slammed the casemate grate shut and threw the dirty rag into the bucket. Phew ... All hands are pissed and cracked, the skin has become like a washcloth! But today, even the dead to scrub. And just try not to wash somewhere, Daren will instantly appear, poke his nose at a poorly done job. He, apparently, had already decided for himself that the student Kleskha was not capable of anything other than scrubbing the floors. Well, let. In the end, the usual women's work. However, this was
Reapers Of Suffering 38
She dragged her forward along the steep corridor, they ran, slipping on the smooth stone floors, and how they flew out of the low door straight into the frosty night - the captive did not understand at all. It seemed to her that she was sleeping and seeing a feverish dream. Only when frost and a furious prickly wind hit her in the face did she realize that what was happening was not blaspheming, but was happening in reality. - Go. Fast. If I ever see you or that bastard again, I'll kill them both. Understood? – asked the strange huntress and shook the walker: – UNDERSTAND? - Yes! - she clutched at the hand of the savior and asked about what had tormented her from the first moment of their meeting: - Why are you helping me? And what did you call me? - Zoryanka. Because you are my sister. And now - get out! And the huntress pushed her, pushing her into the arms of the blizzard and wind. * * *Before returning to the casemates, Lesana climbed into the soapbox and took a full bucket
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She raced through the blizzard. Gusts of wind burned his face, prickly snow beat on his head and shoulders. Oh, how she ran! Faster. Faster Faster! The hunter's blood boiled in her veins. The fugitive raced like a wild beast, but it seemed to her that she was dragging along. Several times she jumped up to the white blizzard sky, exposing her flaming forehead and cheeks to the snow, and sent a call to her flock. They must know that she is alive and that there are hunters from the Citadel with her. The flock must get away from the round-up. And she will catch up. Now or in a few days. The main thing is that she is alive. She and her child. The precious bundle pulled back his hands. The walker stopped several times. She frantically caught her breath and looked into a serene sleepy face. A son. Her son! Alive! Joy gave strength, spurred on like a whip, and the woman again rushed away from the gloomy bulk of the Citadel, which was left behind. Winter nights are long. She will be far awa
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