Ойкумена / Oikumena: Глава 22

Chapter 22 Hatred

Camrad_RIP 10.01.24 в 18:48

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Camrad_RIP 10.01.24 в 18:49

At the end of the second day of the new working week, Elena decided it was time to go to church. It was better to go to the Temple, the biggest, the most beautiful, and the best in the whole Ecumene. Because it was impossible, simply impossible.

Camrad_RIP 11.01.24 в 13:34

The breakup with Flessa and her words hurt in a way that it seemed better to stab the Duchess with a dagger. Dind suffered, trying to do so covertly, but by virtue of his guilelessness and youth, his conspiratorial nature was turning into the opposite. The whole prison was already whispering that a certain maiden had broken the young man's heart. No one had guessed who the girl was yet, but it was only a matter of time.

Camrad_RIP 11.01.24 в 13:34

Another jailer from the lower floors was missing, and the Palace-under-the-Hill was back on its feet. In addition, the personnel was already overloaded, and now the city guards were massively grabbing rioters involved in the "copper rumors," as well as just unlucky people who were near the riots. Whistleblowing flourished, interrogators worked tirelessly with their hands and other tools, and Elena had to deal with the excesses of their zeal.

Camrad_RIP 11.01.24 в 13:35

Poor Dind watched and suffered. Master Quok was furious at the disruption of routines and the increasing injuries inflicted by exhausted workers, but Elena was deaf to everything. Her thoughts were occupied with another matter entirely. The medic was waiting for the backlash, swift and merciless.

Camrad_RIP 11.01.24 в 13:37

Despite all the romanticism of the relationship that had come to an end so soon, the woman was not deceived for a second about the young duchess. The very act of breaking up with her was enough to deeply hurt and offend the noblewoman. And the slap left no choice and, no doubt - Flessa would retaliate with the utmost cruelty. And something had to be done...

Camrad_RIP 11.01.24 в 13:38

What to do?

Camrad_RIP 11.01.24 в 13:38

Applying bandages, stitching up cuts, applying compresses to bruises, smearing healing ointments on burns, Elena came to the same conclusion time after time: she had to run. Things were not so bad in Milvess. They had been good in the last few months, but they were coming to an end. Her life as a citizen, as a healer in the capital, seemed to be coming to an end.

Camrad_RIP 11.01.24 в 13:40

And things just got better....

Camrad_RIP 11.01.24 в 13:40

The worst of all was the worm of doubt that gnawed at her soul, creeping up stealthily, reminding me that things could have turned out very differently, much happier and calmer. A little less self-loving pride, a little more conformism, sensitivity to the wishes of an imperious and powerful mistress ... Imagination drew pictures of a probable, however, not happened future. In it, Elena, as predicted a month ago landlady, woke up on sheets of satin and had breakfast with a golden dish. She could not work at all, could do not too burdensome practice, which was provided by the diploma of the shop. She could do anything. Well, or almost everything. Much more than she did now, at any rate, including longer classes at Draftman's, not the occasional free evening.

Camrad_RIP 11.01.24 в 13:41

Snow seemed to be gathering, the clouds barely scratching the tall spires of the towers. It would be the first snow of the year, too late for the crops, a mocking herald of the coming crop shortage. Elena froze at the crossroads, waiting out the procession of churchmen. It was a sort of procession, a veneration of one of the Attributes. The monks walked in a long column, three at a time. To an earthly person, the servants of the cult looked very funny, as if they had been assembled from pieces of different cultures. They looked like steppe people or Buddhist monks.

Camrad_RIP 11.01.24 в 13:42

The Steppes - because instead of cassocks, they wore special cut quilted robes with a large triangular flap across the chest on a single wooden button. The robe was girded with a wide girdle and was suitable for almost any weather, symbolizing the readiness to endure hardships and carry the word of God wherever and whenever. A chain with the sign of the Pantocrator, usually a ring divided by a horizontal bar, was worn on top, symbolizing that the Lord commands everything in heaven and on earth.

Camrad_RIP 11.01.24 в 13:44

Buddhists - because the canon prescribed that instead of wearing a hat, one should wear a wide headband, where the symbols of the parish and something religious were embroidered in traditional signs. The hair, as a rule, was let below the shoulders and braided into small plaits, according to the number of memorized Attributes and sacred texts-commentaries to them. The complete set was exactly sixty-six braids, and when a brother began to go bald from old age, he shaved his head, again as a Buddhist, for it was unbecoming to offend the canon by the sight of thin hairs. However, some cultists shaved their heads purposefully despite having quite decent hair, and rumor had it that they got rid of their body hair altogether. It had something to do with the movement of certain "Demiurgs," who were a kind of official religion or cult. Rumor has it, aggressive and violent. In any case, when it came to stoning the shops of the adherents of the Two or a particularly vivid sermon, the Demiurgs were always mentioned. The bald one had not a crossbar in the chain ring but an eight-pointed star, symbolizing the worldly domination of Pantocrator on all sides of the world.

Camrad_RIP 11.01.24 в 13:46

Elena touched her fingers to her chest, where the shattered coins from the Wasteland hung on a chain under her jacket. She thought that she should buy herself a Pantokrator ring and wear it openly so as not to stand out among the townspeople. As a rule, the citizens of the capital didn't care about external trappings. If a person didn't openly wear the symbolism of the Two, it was assumed by default that they believed in the One. But given the general nervousness, more prudent caution should have been exercised.

Camrad_RIP 11.01.24 в 13:48

And Lunna also thought that these churchmen were rather strange and offbeat. Most of them didn't wear Jah braids, but they didn't glisten with mirror-like baldness. The gloomy men in the column had haircuts almost like soldiers, some in a "potty" and some in a "horse mane" that curled into a shock-absorbing helmet roll. It didn't look threatening.... but rather unfamiliar and ominous. The army-looking column of unarmed servants of the Lord was dressed in robes of the same dark brown color and marched in complete silence, without the usual chants, only beating out a clear rhythm with their wooden soles. From time to time, the monks in formation stopped and pounded their chests with their left fists while raising their right thumbs to the sky, indicating that the Lord was one in their hearts.

Camrad_RIP 22.01.24 в 10:28

In a picture, this hybrid of steppe, Buddhism, and "afro" would look funny. In reality and motion, she wanted to move away, getting rid of the feeling of impropriety. The procession smelled of pure army organization and the order of a soldier's formation. Maybe some visiting cultists, a pilgrimage?

Camrad_RIP 22.01.24 в 10:29

The sight of the cultists discouraged Elena from going to the Temple. She reasoned that the monumental building had been standing for hundreds of years and would probably remain standing for another day or two. Now, it was time to get on with more pressing matters. Elena turned towards the nearest street of armorers, firmly expecting to buy weapons. Alas, there wasn't enough money for a good sword - waiting for the promised reward from the Duchess, the healer finally renewed her closet and bought some useful little things, including extracts and herbs dried in the fall for future medicines. But Elena reasoned it was better to have something than to make do with a knife while waiting for imminent adventures.

Camrad_RIP 22.01.24 в 10:31

The city was feverish, and rumors swept through the houses and streets like wildfire, filling the streets with incredible details and horrifying concoctions. All the talk, in one way or another, revolved around copper money and the silver caravan from Saltoluchard. "Copper" and "Silver" - these two words came up in every conversation, jumped from window to window, and carried through the taverns and cantinas. Even dung collectors were ready to argue about the purity of the metal of the southern mines, and prostitutes could expertly judge the comparative perniciousness of copper and bronze money.

Camrad_RIP 22.01.24 в 10:32

Elena felt somehow apart from it all again. The city lived, worried, preparing for its trials and worries, and the healer moved in a parallel course. Wandering from shop to shop Elena time after time, returned to the same thought, or rather two thoughts that went in a tight bundle - unpleasant, bitter, hurtful, generously laced with notes of hopelessness. And merciless in its obviousness.

Camrad_RIP 22.01.24 в 10:36

Yes, Flessa would retaliate, if only for the insult. And one hundred and forty-six percent for a slap in the face.

Camrad_RIP 11.01.24 в 13:49

Yeah, she gonna have to leave town.

Camrad_RIP 11.01.24 в 13:50

Swords were rarely sold on this street. It is too expensive for the general public. But it was possible to buy all kinds of cleavers and daggers, compact crossbows, ballisters, clubs, and other gear for beating out health and life. On the counters, crates, wheelbarrows, and in hands, all sorts of weapons glittered, shone, rattled, and rang, up to spear-throwers and batons made of the tusk of strange beasts of the northern archipelago. Elena almost bought a spear thrower because it looked very beautiful, a polished thing made of bone of a pale purple color. You can throw darts, which, according to rumors, even with stone tips stitched through leather armor like rags, and you can wield it like a club.

Camrad_RIP 22.01.24 в 10:39

But Elena changed her mind, opting for a boarding axe with a hook and pincer. It was an ordinary, unadorned weapon for one hand. It was sold by a dull and depressing islander, swollen and colorful like an octopus. Customers shunned him, and Elena compared the man-hating look of the seller, the worn look of the weapon (an old thing, well-polished by thousands of touches), and the sailor's clothes - a traditional jacket with fishing hooks instead of buttons. Such clothes were worn on holidays and for special events like a full crossing around the Ecumene in one campaign. The conclusion was that the vagabond had drunk himself clean, having wasted even his everyday dress on money, and now he had to put on a festive one and sell weapons.

Camrad_RIP 22.01.24 в 10:41

The sailor did not haggle over the price, and in general, to all appearances, he was ashamed to part with the steel "comrade." Elena, in her turn, did not bargain much, and the parties parted, having made a mutually beneficial negotiation. Now, the islander could either have fun for another week or buy a passage to his native land without the need to be hired as a sailor. And Elena felt the pleasant, confident weight of a good tool behind her belt.

Camrad_RIP 22.01.24 в 10:44

As Draftsman used to say. "Armored - stab, defenseless - chop," yes. Now she felt better, more protected, and wondered why she hadn't done it before. Maybe because of the inertia of thinking that an axe was not serious, and when the time came, she could swing a sword or a saber, but for now, a dagger would be enough.

Camrad_RIP 22.01.24 в 10:45

Unfortunately, the burst of enthusiasm didn't last long. It was good to have a weapon. Yet the need to get out of the City was growing. To leave a familiar job, to leave a home that had almost become familiar. To part with Baala and Kid, whom Elena didn't yet see as family, but it was coming. Again, tedious wanderings, and even in the hungriest and coldest time, when everything costs two or three times as much. Without any special savings, without shop credentials.....

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 18:28

Which you could have taken - the worm of doubt and missed opportunities whispered again.

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 18:28

You could have taken it. And also to swallow the pride, to explain with Flessa, remembering that the Duchess was not a mean person (at least, not more than the class as a whole). It was just not worth it to test aristocratic arrogance. And now there would be no problems. There would be nothing but happiness, with confidence in the future. All taxes and dues for seven years were paid. That meant paying only city taxes and enjoying all the rights of a shop foreman. It was fabulous. Songs were written about such generosity. And then one slap in the face destroyed it all. So, no splendor, and she should get out of town alive. Elena had no illusions that a proud noblewoman of some generation would forget how she had been heartily slapped on her beautiful and arrogant face by a lowly commoner.

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 18:55

On the road again, wandering again...

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 18:56

Or maybe it'll work out?

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 18:58

To get back to my native northern land, she had to cross the bridge, where a fight was brewing again. And this time, the conflict promised to be "festive" in scale, when not even street to street, but whole neighborhoods or workshops were coming together. And not at all festive in mood. Elena looked at all this and decided she would rather take the boat.

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 19:00

The woman was not the only person to show commendable wisdom, so the river became crowded with "water taxies." It seems, these days, anyone who had even a gate leaf was in a hurry to make money on transportation. Prices had skyrocketed, too, but with each passing minute, Elena regretted the coin she spent less and less. While the boatman was rowing, angry and very organized groups of people were gathering at opposite ends of the bridge. Many were heavily armed, including chain mail, iron hats, helmets with barbettes, long-handled axes, and cordage. The city guards, sensing something bad, vanished as if they had never existed.

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 19:04

"Who's with whom?" Elena asked the boatman, figuring that he should know for sure.

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 19:56

"On the altogether," he said, displaying a scholarly and philosophical disposition. "For silver."

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 19:57

"Again?" The woman sighed.

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 19:55

"That's right," the boatman managed to combine a wide rowing stroke, a maneuver of evasion from a clumsy competitor, and an expressive shrug. "But after such a thing, there's no harm in fighting!"

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 20:00

"What's the big deal?" Elena thought she must have missed something again.

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 20:01

"Ehma!!!" The rower shouted joyfully, so much so that he almost dropped his oar. The enthusiasm of a born storyteller was in his voice.

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 20:02

Listening half-heartedly, watching what was happening on the bridge, and getting used to the weight of the axe at her belt, Elena had a rough idea of what had been stirring Milvess for the last couple of days. So, while Lunna was working hard and solving difficult issues of her personal life, the capital, like a fire in the wind, received the devastating news: the island convoy with silver was detained in the port by the personal order of the Emperor. The minting of coins will not take place in the foreseeable future. There will be no new, marketable coinage. No one knew anything, but literally every citizen had an acquaintance who had another acquaintance who had tried to be handed some copper or bronze money.

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 20:03

It seemed that Milvess had not yet erupted into spontaneous rebellion from edge to edge, thanks solely to the upcoming Tournament. Any fight attracted armed men who were in a hurry to grab what was theirs, so instead of outrages against authority, just uncontrollable stabbings took place. Besides, the Emperor once again broke other people's pride and hubris (or rather just poured gold over them) by mobilizing and placing the heavy cavalry, personally obliged to his service, to protect law and order.

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 20:05

Outside observers like the same boatman capitalized on the general chaos and placed bets on whether the ruler would be able to keep Milvesse in check for another two or three days. Then the Tournament began, and it was clear to everyone that the rioting of the street crowd would naturally move to the tribunes, spilling over into pogroms of heretics and other bloody, but safe for the authorities. In the meantime, the lords' houses were turning into fortresses, the price of mercenaries had doubled, and even a poor brether had real gold in his purse.

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 20:06

Two days, Elena thought and cheered up, two days of chaos... A good time to get her feet out. The air of Milvess was noxious to her now, and Flessa would most likely be busy with the city's conflicts for the time being. Especially after comparing the bag of copper on the duchess's desk with what she had seen and heard in person. Elena was convinced that the willful noblewoman was involved in murky affairs up to her ears.

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 20:07

//Pantocrator, are you playing for me? - she asked silently to the darkening sky, putting her hand over her heart. The boatman noticed the gesture and reacted appropriately, with a salute of the oar and a shriek:

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 19:13

"There is no god but One! Down with the damned bigots!"

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 19:05

There was a shout around them, curses to the bigots echoing far over the water, echoing the cries on the bridge. There was fighting, serious fighting, not bloody but deadly. Elena cringed at the cries of pain, which reminded her of working in a prison. The opponents, meanwhile, were hammering fiercely at each other, crowded together in the middle of the wide bridge. Every now and then, someone was thrown over the low parapet, and some jumped themselves, deciding that they had had enough. The river swirled storms and funnels around the wide piers - "bulls," a wounded man, once in there, as a rule, did not swim out, alive at least. The first corpses were already bobbing on the waves, falling under the oars of the swearing carriers.

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 19:12

For some unknown reason, Elena remembered the knowledge she had once heard that the natural tendency of architects to make the supports stronger and thicker led to accelerated wear and tear of oxen under bridges. A thicker column narrows the path for water and increases the constant pressure on the barrier.

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 19:10

The shouts on the bridge were no longer human, and the roar of the furious crowd was now like a chorus of hungry hyenas. The fight had finally become a mutual massacre.

Camrad_RIP 11.01.24 в 13:51

"Go further down," Elena commanded, deciding it would be better to walk than to land near a real war zone. The boatman nodded in complete agreement. It seems that clever thoughts came to many heads at the same time because the boats, as if on command, began to "scatter" to change the route, avoiding the areas near the ends of the bridge. On the other hand, quite miserable boats, or even crookedly and obliquely knocked down rafts, rushed to the bulls and downstream. Their owners had not found any risky customers, so now they were rushing to the aid of the drowning, expecting to be rewarded.

Camrad_RIP 11.01.24 в 13:53

How timely she was concerned about the axe... Draftsman did not teach Elena any special techniques of fighting with a cleaver but showed her how to receive and divert blows with a long-handled axe, "opening" the opponent for a counterattack or a strike with a second weapon. A rare technique mastered, according to legends famous Vincent Mongaillard. Knife is there, and boarding "comrade" is there. You can cope even with not very strongly armored enemies. The hook will pierce both leather and chain mail, but brigandines and, especially, plate armor are not worn by shopkeepers and bandits - stupid and expensive.

Camrad_RIP 24.01.24 в 19:07