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