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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
Reapers Of Suffering 39
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
Reapers Of Suffering 40
Lesana was cleaning the sorrel. The fussy birds flapped their wings, screamed, dropped their feathers. Then they calmed down and sedately sat down on the perches, waiting for food. The girl cleaned the cages, poured water, threw the bones left over from the dinner she had learned into the feeders, sprinkled bread crumbs. Voracious rattlers rushed to the delicacy, cursing and trampling. The novice paid no attention to them, mindlessly doing her work. Her thoughts drifted far, far away. To a memorable and terrible night, when she made a wild, unworthy resident of the Citadel and a warrior fighter. She let go of the walker. Not just a walking one - a bloodsucker with a cub! I saw them as people! Led out of the fortress to freedom. She stunned Tamir, who, keeping a sober mind, was going to stop her. She spoke out against a friend, against a guardian. And for whom? For the undead! These thoughts made me so ashamed and sick that I wanted to howl. But, despite the gnawing feeling of guilt
Reapers Of Suffering 41
“Shhh... Quietly...” Febr covered her mouth with his hand, and Lesana silently screamed into his hand, hard as a board. - Well, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you. It was necessary to escape, what are you like dead? She finally sucked in a breath through her nose, dispersing the circles floating in front of her eyes: - Fuck you... And then... through...!!! The guy laughed. Well, let me see what you have... Still grimacing in pain, Lesana pulled up her shirt and turned sideways. There was a huge bruise on the ribs. Febre looked up at the girl with guilty eyes. - I beat half-heartedly ... She crouched and sank down on the wet trunk of a fallen tree. The sagging coarse snow in the clearing where the opponents fought was trampled to the ground. Lesana felt the bruise, breathing through her teeth in a jerky and uneven way. You broke my rib! “I didn’t break it,” the guy argued. - Give. Strong fingers slid unexpectedly softly over the flaming skin. - Maybe it cracked?
Reapers Of Suffering 42
Lesana had never felt so good before. The fire burned hot in the hearth. The guys threw fabrics on the floor, old worn skins, dragged in, only Guardians know where. All four of them settled down next to the brightly blazing hearth, dumping the stolen food on a clean canvas. The guys laughed, sorting out the stolen goods. - What a thrifty girl you are, you even stole salted fish ... - Milad laughed. - What are you laughing at? Velesh chided him. - She's delicious, you know. You will eat faster than gingerbread. “I’m not drawn to salty,” Olst’s student laughed again. The guys cleaned the fish, and it was somehow very comfortable for Lesana to sit next to her, talking in an undertone, laughing and feeling equal. Not a stupid worthless girl. Equal. Nobody teased, nobody teased. Wonderfully , but usually gloomy, taciturn Velesh tore off and gave her transparent fat fish backs .- You did not peel off your sides when you climbed? Febru asked. The girl lifted her shirt. Red abrasions
Reapers Of Suffering 43
Sweet led the daughters by the hands. Radosh sniffed sweetly, arranged in a piece of canvas tied over his mother's shoulder. They were all together again. And Diven no longer looked dying. They had passed through the thicket and were now walking through a young forest that stretched along a fidgeting river. Peace reigned in my heart. The children no longer appeared translucent to blue. Spring brings back hope. And the wanderers dragged on, trying to cover as much distance as possible during the night. I already vaguely remembered the harsh winter, knee-deep snowdrifts, and how Slada and Diven left the chase. Even the Citadel itself and the outlandish hunter seemed like a dream. But I still remember the second day after the escape, when the wife and husband stopped for the night. Diven cut down a hut in the wild more often, and they buried themselves in it. The woman hoped to rest, but her husband did not immediately allow her to take a nap and fall asleep. Grabbed by the shoulders,
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