Ойкумена / Oikumena: Глава 17

Part III. "Two Halves of One Coin," Chapter 17. "Stones in the Steppe"

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 11:03

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Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 11:04

Traditionally, the brigade spent the last night before the camping trip in a separate barn, with all its equipment, next to the cart and horse. So that no one would get drunk, break a leg, or cut himself to death in the final hours. The stable barn, of course, belonged to Matrice. Horse Number Four was almost indistinguishable from Number Three; the cart was new, better, and lighter than the one Elena remembered.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 11:12

For the first time in the past year, the girl saw the entire Santeli crew assembled. A new team because the maimed Codure, according to stories, quickly drank himself to death and froze to death in the first winter month. And Vial died a little later, defending the cart alongside Kai from "greedy" marauders. The brigade replaced its losses with two new men. Their names were Silber and Einar, free mercenaries, not routiers. Elena had heard of them but had not yet seen them in person. Now she had.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 11:14

Zilber was not too tall, fat, and carefully groomed with neat red sideburns. His weapons were a short sword, like a Roman gladius, and a bow. Zilber shot peculiarly with a full-length sawn reed pipe with a noose. The noose was hooked on the fingers of the pulling hand, and the arrow was inserted into the reed chute and launched like a crossbow bolt on a stock with a guide groove. Such a method required more time to "reload", but it was believed that marksmanship improved markedly. In addition, it was possible to use arrows known to be shorter and correspondingly lighter than usual, sending them to a greater range.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 11:16

Einar was a typical infantryman with a sword like Zilber's and a large round shield. He was tall, stout, heavy-featured, had a wicked stare, and shaved his hair and beard to the bristles of a pig. His right eye was perpetually squinted, while the other was wide open and never seemed to blink.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 11:18

The two mercenaries looked nothing alike, but at the same time, they seemed almost like twins. Their gazes (equally wary), stingy movements (as if they were saving every calorie), characteristic swearing, and other little things that seem unnoticeable separately but together draw a comprehensive image. Zilber and Einar clearly read "deserter" on their foreheads, and Lena immediately dubbed them inaudibly but briefly, "brother-soldiers."

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 11:39

At bedtime, Shena showed her companion how to carry the "ponjaga." What could be easier - throwing a wooden frame with ropes on her shoulders? As it turned out, there were a few tricks. The main one was that despite its resemblance to a backpacker's frame, the "ponjaga" was carried differently. Two strong loops were attached to the belt behind the back, and the ends of the lashing frame, which protruded downwards, were hooked there. In this way, the weight of the whole structure was transferred to the belt and legs, while the straps merely held the burden. They could be put on in the usual way, could be thrown on one side like a one-belt backpack, or even do without straps at all, fixing the frame with a pole on the shoulder.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 11:43

All in all, it was an amazing thing.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 11:43

She didn't sleep well. She couldn't sleep at all, to be exact. The jitters pounded like a fever, a shiver going somewhere in the middle of her stomach and spreading through her body in waves, carrying waves of unhealthy heat. So much so that Lena was even frightened if she was sick. That would be very, very bad. On the other hand, such a possibility would have freed her from the hike...

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 11:45

The "Loser's Dilemma," as her father once called it. A loser goes to an exam for which he is unprepared, under a great deal of stress. Pulling a question means getting a failing grade. Avoiding the exam on some pretext is also bad, but for a while, the underachiever will experience a delightful relief from the fact that the danger has moved into the future.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 11:47

Lena wrapped herself in a wool blanket and couldn't get warm. She was almost sinking into a drowsy slumber... But like a swimmer with an excessive supply of air, she could not cross the invisible line beyond which normal sleep begins.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 11:49

And then she felt really warm for some reason, like in a warm bath, when there was no hurry, no danger ahead... and everything would be okay... ...and everything is going to be fine...

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 11:50

Shena carefully readjusted her blanket, which she used to cover Hel, who was in agony. The spearwoman couldn't sleep either, but Shena always had a bad night's sleep the night before she went out. It was normal and safe. The first day would wear her out properly, the first night of hike would be fine, and then everything would roll along on its own as usual.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 11:56

Horse number four was crunching the hay as if it felt it would be a good idea to eat its fill. It would not see any more food until its return. Unless the march drags on and the animal has to be fed with pasture, which is a last resort. In the field, sometimes it's better to lose a fighter (not the most useful one, of course) than a horse. No draught animal, it means the cart stands. And if it managed to be loaded with some Profit...

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 11:59

A single candle burned in a stone chalice by the gate, which was covered with a broad plank. In the dim light, the red-haired healer's face seemed very smooth and rejuvenated. Hel was not old as it was, but now she looked like a girl a couple of years away from marriage. She sighed softly, and once again rolled in her mind, like a pebble in a river stream, the long-standing riddle of who Hel was...

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 12:02

Now, as the only one awake in the barn, alone with herself, Shena confessed that... No, that would have been too drastic, too bold, and direct. She only thought that perhaps, had things turned out differently, Hel might have appealed to her as a sympathetic person in her own way, not the worst person in the world. Sometimes surprisingly cold-blooded harshness, like the removal of a rotten leg. And sometimes striking with a strange, incongruous naivety. Not stupidity, not disconnected from life, but just - naivety. As if Hel had come to Wasteland from some other place much kinder and brighter. From a palace, a combat tower, or at least a well-to-do family, where the family was lucky to have a loving father and the children did not encounter everyday cruelty when they were just learning to walk.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 12:04

These thoughts made Shena bitter and painful. Because her thoughts awakened memories, and her memory stabbed her with sharp knives, despite the years that had passed. The mercenary looked at the medicine woman with unconcealed anger. Now as the embodiment of all that was hateful to Shena.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 12:05

The filthy aristocrat...

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 12:05

She wanted to rip the blankets off Hel, both hers and her own, and then chase the redheaded beast around the wagon, stabbing her with the dagger to keep her spirits up. Just like that, to let the anger find its way out before it scorched her soul completely.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 12:07

The damned noble. One like her, surely one like the others. Otherwise, how would she know what "pàtrean" is...

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 12:08

Hel moved in her sleep. A reddish lock of hair fell to her cheek and covered her nose. In the dim light, her hair seemed as dark as copper blackened by time. She grunted absently, wrinkling her nose and twitching her nose. Shena turned away. She closed her eyes as if she could hide from the black memories.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 12:10

They got up after dark. Without much of a signal, somehow, one by one, everyone got up and got ready. The first day was very important. They had to use every minute of daylight time to get as far away from the town as possible. This was good for the campaign, and it took the brigade out of the range of the stupid "greeders" who robbed everyone on the approaches to the Gate until they lay down under the swords of the "tar" or routiers, hired by the best men of the city.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 12:15

Lena, once more, for the last time, stacked the travel bag herself the right way. That is, she first inserted the rolled-up felt mat into the tube, then tamped down the blanket. On top of it, spare clothes, socks, a sleeping cap, and all the other small things except those that fit into the belt pouches and the flip-bag. She covered the top with a wooden bowl and laced it up. Sheena looked critically at the result and pursed her lips but found the result conditionally acceptable.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 12:18

Maitre Charley came in. The brether looked as if the devils of all the Wastelands had been riding him since sundown. The brether's bloodshot eyes stared out at the world with a look of grave anger, revealing his master's powerful narcotic hangover. But Charley was awake, and his hands were not trembling, which led Lena to assume he'd taken advantage of her gift. Without further ado, the Brether struck a bargain with the brigadier. Einar and Zilber squinted at the brether but refrained from outward expressions of displeasure. The swordsman put his hand to the hilt of his sword but pretended not to notice the slanting glances. Charley hesitated for a moment and slid his saber behind his back, the clave on his left side to his right and the dagger on the other hand to his left. As if he was preparing to flail at the lancers or simply didn't want the scabbard to pound at his feet on the long journey.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 12:22

Taking advantage of the moment, Santeli once again briefly stipulated the terms of the venture. Because, unlike normal trips, this one was planned in a special way and paid for in a specific way.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 14:39

As a rule, with few exceptions, the Profit was not divided at once, in kind, but was handed over to resellers in Gates or other towns, of which (settlements) there were five. And the proceeds were divided into shares, which were distributed in an agreed order - two each to the foreman, alchemist, and healer, plus personal bonuses for various complications. The "tarred man" could take something of the loot, but only what he needed for work or health reasons, and with the approval of all his colleagues. For example, most of Biso's equipment was obtained in this way, as cave trophies. And Shena took her alhspice from the corpse of an undead.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 14:41

This time Santeli resorted to a different, rarer rule. In fact, he did not assemble a brigade but hired each fighter individually and only for one campaign. The brigade members had no claim to Profit, but the brigadier was obliged to pay a generous reward upon their return, regardless of the outcome of the campaign. And the money was reserved in advance and deposited with Matrice as a trusted intermediary. So in the wooden box, sealed with sealing wax, rang the money due to Elena, earned in advance. That was, of course, if the girl returned and the brigade did not consider the hired healer to have flagrantly neglected her duties.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 14:43

Such a statute was usually in force if the brigade went to work on commission, in search of something specific and with above-average danger. The brigadier also had the right not to disclose the purpose of the campaign until the very end, but the pay then also had to be very high to entice the mercenaries with an "offer in the bag." Santelli exercised this right, and Helena was promised (deposited with her) three golden coins, money she had not yet seen here, the monthly salary of a sergeant in armor.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 14:45

Santelli ended with an honest suggestion for those who hesitated to think again and refuse before they went out the gate. And if anyone comes out, then don't shake and work until they win. The suggestion was accompanied by an eloquent glance in Elena's direction. The girl clenched her teeth and remained silent. In turn, she glanced at Shena and thought she looked almost the same now - slim, trim, wearing normal human shoes instead of rattling wooden hooves and pants with a demonstrative codpiece. Lena quickly pulled her hat, which looked like a pirate's triangle with the brim tied at the top over her head. There was no telling who might turn up on the way out of town, so there was no point in showing off her red hair.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:03

It was as if Santeli was waiting for something, and Lena did not understand what until the sleepy apprentice brought, from the bakery, a basket of freshly baked pies and gingerbread, not simple, but "travel". Such pies were made not so much for the culinary variety as for food preservation. Usually with two fillings (usual vegetable on one side and sweet on the other), with plenty of fat in the dough, they could be kept for several days, with the special skill of baker up to a week. The main thing is to wrap them in a cloth and not to leave them in the sun. Gingerbreads, in general, did not spoil for a month or more due to the abundance of honey in the dough and glaze, which closed all the pores in the crust, sealing the contents tightly and not allowing moisture to evaporate.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:05

"Now it was time to go."

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:06

They did not eat breakfast as a group. By tradition, on the first day, everyone stocked themselves with provisions to their liking and chewed on the go. The cauldron allowance did not begin until the evening of the first day. Lena had forgotten all about it and hadn't even stocked up on breadcrumbs, but decided it was no problem. She would somehow make it through the day without food. Dinner would taste better.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:19

"So..." Santeli looked around at his small but quite militant and cheerful troops. He held up a finger and said softly. "Pantocrator is with us. Let's go."

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:25

Both deserters responded in sync with upturned palms and outstretched fingers, only two instead of one. Zilber gave a "victoria," Einar a classic punk goat. Lena had seen this before - they did the same thing at the mention of Ishtan and Erdeg. Santelli, however, paid no attention to this, so religious tolerance prevailed.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:26

When they opened the gate, the predawn damp chill immediately bit her hands and face, trying to get under her hoodie and warm shirt. Lena shivered. Horse Number Four galloped along with the leisurely precision of a metronome. A black shadow flashed to the side and purred briefly. Mr. Cat came up to Lena and looked at her very seriously from below with yellow glowing eyes.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:27

"I have to go," the girl said quietly. "I'll be back."

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:28

"Maaaa..." The meowr answered, and Lena shuddered. It sounded so un-cat-like. It was as if a child had stretched out on a single note.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:36

Mr. Cat, meanwhile, jumped easily onto the fencepost that enclosed Matrice's barn, and there curled into a tight ball of short, needle-like hair. The oval pupils followed the small caravan closely. Like two candles lit in the night for lost travelers. The cat sat there until the carriage melted into the night, watching the travelers with unblinking eyes. As if he knew something unknown and inaccessible to people. Maybe it was so. It was not for nothing that meowr were considered sorcerous beasts...

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:37

It was dark. One might even say completely dark. The wind from the eastern mountains had brought in clouds, and the huge moon hid behind a heavy, impenetrable canopy. Biso had pulled his hat down and lit a magic lamp so that the brigade stomped onward in a dead bluish light. This was the first time Lena had seen a "moon crystal" in action, and now she understood why the "tarred" people often preferred the usual torches and lamps to them. The crystal gave a lot of light. There was no dispute. But that light was... uncomfortable. Like in old computer games like Half-Life, where they couldn't yet reliably simulate a beam of light, so textures lit up as if by themselves. The light was just unpleasant, it scratched your eyes, but most importantly, it hid the details, hid them in the shadows. Such lighting was good for peace, and it would do for travel, but it could be dangerous in battle.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:40

Lena repeated the alchemist's gesture, pulled her hat tighter, and wondered if she could unbutton the brim, pulling it down like an earflap to protect her from the cold wind. She wanted to jump, to run, maybe even fly. A feeling of unusual lightness and leaping took hold of the healer. It was the effect of the pants and boots. They made Lena feel like an athlete who had been training with weights for a long time and now, finally, got rid of them. It occurred to her that for the sake of that lightness, it was definitely worth the risk. And so be it.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:52

The caravan left the Gate to the northwest, following a wide arc around one of the small lakes that stretched in a chain almost all the way to the ocean.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:53

It was very quiet. It was unbelievably quiet as if the roadside grass caught in its net and muffled all outside sounds. The road ended soon enough, and the horse lurched briskly across the steppe with the horseshoes that had been thoroughly tested the day before. The wheels creaked slightly, from time to time breaking with the crunch dried up over the winter feather grass. Biso, with his magical lantern, sat on the fender, exercising his right of passage - only he and the severely wounded (if any) could ride in the cart. Everyone else walked on their own, protecting the horse from unnecessary strain. Santelli stepped forward, Kai at the back of the march with his blade on his shoulder, and everyone else scattered to the sides of the cart in an uneven, sparse ellipse.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:57

The wind was picking up. According to Lena's inner feeling, the "last quarter of the moon", that is, the hour before dawn, had already come, but the darkness was in no hurry to give way. She still wanted to run and jump, but the girl carefully adapted to the rhythm of her companions, who walked with seeming unhurriedness but without stops and delays.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:59

For a few minutes, the wind turned into a light hurricane, which blew debris into my face, so I had to cover myself with a high collar and sleeves. Even the horse became restless, and the alchemist covered its face with a special mask. Santelli cursed briefly and angrily, thinking that here it was, fatal bad luck. Looks like the brigade was caught in unexpected and unseasonable rain. Which meant the speed of movement would fall by half, maybe more.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 17:01

But then the wind dropped just as abruptly as it had risen. The moon did peek out from behind the scattered clouds. Biso extinguished the flashlight to conserve the charge. Elena opened her mouth and forgot to close it, stunned by the view.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:50

It was beautiful. But no... "beautiful" is an unfortunate word. "Extraordinary" would probably be the right word. Or even "magical." Because it is physically impossible to see such a landscape on Earth.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:49

The wasteland remained wasteland, that is, dreary steppe, which stretched as far as the eye could reach and even farther. The Gate remained behind the brigade, a lake spread out on the right, and the distant mountains that bordered the plain rose on the left. Everything was usual. But as her father, a long-time amateur photographer, used to say, // "The main thing is the light!" A huge moon, hovering above the horizon line, strictly at the height of its diameter, flooded the plain with a cold blue light, similar to the glow of a magic crystal, but stronger by a million times. The moonlight seemed the complete, utter antithesis of the sunlight as if the cold had taken on an image of its own. It was as if the air had turned to pure ice, illuminating itself. There were no other colors in the universe around us except blue, broken down into countless shades, from near-white to pitch-black.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:48

In the windlessness, the lake calmed down. It was smooth and mirrored, reflecting the moon's double with perfect accuracy but smoothing out the shades a little so that she wanted to come up to the water and scoop a piece of this magical moon.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:44

It was... majestic.

Camrad_RIP 20.06.23 в 16:42