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Wanderers Of the Night 37
The guards at the central gate had long been tracking with their eyes a group of horsemen moving at a quiet trot along the line of carts. The gates of Ereald remained closed since morning. An order was received to let in only footmen and only through an auxiliary gate, located slightly away from the gate. The most impatient squeezed through the narrow door with difficulty, dragging all their belongings in huge trunks on their own backs. The rest waited hopefully. But noon passed, and the order to open the gate did not come.The people were nervous, talking loudly, trying to ask questions to the guards, but they only shrugged their shoulders. They didn't know what they were waiting for. And now those riders approaching the central gate too resolutely.Ratmir, the head of their reinforced detachment, counted eight and now he could already see them well. Three - young girls, keep in the center of the group, dressed in a travel way, the figures hide dark cloaks. One of the men, the one wi
Wanderers Of the Night 38
The houses parted, well-groomed trees stood along the edges of a flat wide road, and then they parted, revealing a spacious square and a snow-white palace. Tall, slender towers soared into the sky, and the main building stretched upwards, striking with its unreal elegance and seeming fragility. The palace shone with a crystal brilliance, as if woven from passages, turrets and many ledges crowned with spiers.Yarsi pulled on the reins of his horse, his heart beating loudly in his chest. He really did not want to look at his house with a new look, but he could not help himself. He always perceived it only as a house, but now the palace was revealed from a completely different side - a stranger, torn from another world, not belonging to this reality.He looked, looked at the place where he was born, where he grew up, painfully realizing its greatness and pain, longing and madness that burned the creator of this palace for many years.Home, parents, past…. There is none of this anymore. H
Wanderers Of the Night 39
... This night there will be no worries,Sleep - fall asleep, the day is still so far away,The noise of the winds, the veil of rain,The night guards your sleep from the Fire….A gentle female voice flew over the roofs of houses, the song was born almost on the outskirts and merged with the approaching twilight of the evening with a barely perceptible melody. His sharpened hearing of the beast greedily absorbed the words, the song fascinated and excited his heart with an incomprehensible sadness. A cool wind rushed in through the open window, its impetuous gusts either moving away or making the sounds closer, making the lullaby sound with renewed vigor.In the morning the dew will fall again on the meadow,Sleep - fall asleep, you are my fidget,In the song of the night the sun will become the moon,And will call for a long journey behind him ....It has only been one day since he returned home. A very long day.Preparations for the coronation were in full swing in the palace. Elena
Wanderers Of the Night 40
The air hummed, filled with unbearably loud thumps of blades touching. Just as deafening is the noise in the forge, when the blacksmith, with a skillful hand, lowers the hammer on the sword blank, giving it the desired shape. But there was no smithy here, the forest was noisy here, and its indignant rustle was muffled by the furious clang of steel. The blows came too often, repeatedly causing him to dodge and retreat, circle and parry attacks from five opponents at once. There was no time to be surprised that so far he had not received a single wound. Only somewhere on the edge of consciousness beat a desperate thought that this fight lasts an incredibly long time and draws out the last forces. Vic was already accustomed to his own increased speed and endurance, which increased significantly at night. But still he tried not to get involved in any alterations, surprisingly too often encountered on his way. At first he attributed it to his own bad luck. And how else to explain that
Wanderers Of the Night 41
Through the night forest, he rushed at a speed on the verge of his capabilities. Hearing caught uterine howling and soft sobs, as if someone was crying, but Vic tried not to listen to these sounds. There are no innocents in the dark of night, and he didn't see himself as a hero or a savior of the defenseless. Sometimes there was a screech. Several times I had to turn around and react to the fast pace of the pursuers. The blows in motion were blurred, but each time the blade met the resistance of cut flesh and even something harder. Vic did not think about the consequences and did not look at the unlucky hunters. His sense of smell and hearing told him about them before they were within striking distance. It was reassuring that they were all animals, albeit predators, but living beings. Therefore, he dealt only one blow and ran on, his goal was to slow down, and it is desirable to scare away, no more. It was strange that there were so many attackers, never before had animals declared
Wanderers Of the Night 42
The path at the top of the wall meandered in a narrow strip, fortunately, rather high teeth did not allow falling down and allowed them to run without thinking about balance. Vic had almost passed the watchtower with the narrow stairs leading into the city when a desperate cry reached his ears. The Vistolet took a few more steps, knowing perfectly well what this cry means, and, grimacing, stopped. There was a nightmare down there, in which there was no point in interfering. He hesitated a little and, grabbing the nearest prong with his hand, hung down, trying to see what was happening. If it had been anyone else, he probably wouldn't have run down the stairs, rushed down, jumping several steps at a time, choking with a panic feeling that he would not make it in time. The sword trembled slightly in the fingers, and before my eyes was the picture I saw - a bunch of bony figures swarming over the prostrate bodies of two men, the limbs of the victims stretched to the sides, broke out o
Wanderers Of the Night 43
Curls of dark blond hair fell in thick strands on a deathly pale face, still distorted by a grimace of pain, as if she continued to feel everything. Her chest was barely noticeable, but Vic already knew that the woman was still alive. Heard the beating of her heart, felt the smell of her skin that tickled his nostrils with a subtle aroma, the smell of blood .... The Vistolets grimaced, trying to drive away the delusion, and realized with surprise that he had been hearing an insistent rustling whisper for some time: - Go, go, go .... He glanced around quickly, not quite understanding where he was coming from. The children who were here did not react to him in any way. The hand mechanically, as in a moment of danger, fell on the hilt of the sword. Vic paused warily, listening more to himself than to his surroundings. The feeling was too strange, the whisper dispersed attention, pushing somewhere to move, just as now thousands of weak-willed creatures were monotonously walking outside
Wanderers Of the Night 44
Someone raised those old, already long-lying dead in the ground, but ordinary people, the inhabitants of this city and its environs, also become walking corpses. Vic rubbed his forehead again, then touched the wound on his arm and winced. In Reet, the one who was bitten turns into undead, but here there is no special transformation, everything happens quickly and with merciless inevitability - they die, and then immediately get up as other creatures. But the wound must still be inflicted? Vic tried to drive away this thought, for some reason right now he didn’t want to think about his own future at all, didn’t want to realize it. This is scary. Perhaps he is mistaken, perhaps the reason is different. The surrounding reality was already terrible to a nightmare, but to know that you will definitely suffer the same fate…. He carefully walked along the corridor, looked into the next room, the shutters here were covered and he just threw hooks on them. Then he returned to the front door
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