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— What the hell are you talking about?
— And you do not understand? This ship is our floating grave. All of us appeared not accidentally by it. We were sacrificed to Ygerabal. A lovely way to get rid of sentenced to death, without soiling hands.
— I do not understand you, — Casta stepped to Vislav convulsively clenched fists. — You`ve just told that I am a captain now, and it is my ship.
— Truly so. But you got the so-so ship. There is neither food nor water on this vessel. There are no wheel and sail too. Didn`t you notice yet that your ship is without mast? We were submerged being sleepy in Darnat port on the old shabby vessel and towed off in the sea.
— There is no food? Water? — Just now Casta felt that she is awfully thirsty. — I swear by Beris, it cannot be!
— It can be, oh Casta Invincible, and it is! — Vislav seemed unperturbable, but his voice nevertheless trembled. — If gods do not take pity on us, we will soon envy Sambar and two bastards whom you have just fed to fishes. And to that guy whom I pushed in a hold. They died rather easily and quickly. And we will suffer.
— Damned! — Casta felt cold touch of horror to the back. — And what we shall do?
— For a start cure your wounds.
— And how to cure them? I have neither needle nor threads to sew up them.
— At least wash them out.
— You have just told that we have no water. Do you scoff?
— It is plenty of excellent salt water around us, — Vislav showed overboard. — It nicely expels poison and fever from wounds.
— Poison ... — Casta murmured taken by a new thought. — Fever ...
Ayvari's stone. Dinche told that stone had great force. She said that one of nine Forgotten Ayvari blessed Casta then. The girl's face lit up for the nervousness which captured her. The forgotten goddess should help them. At least it is necessary to try ...
— You are right, — she told to Vislav. — But how to get water? We have no cutlery for water.
— I saw quite tolerable jug in a hold. The neck is beaten off but the jug seems whole. And also some ropes are there.
— Well. So help me with it.
She entered into deck superstructure — once there was the captain's cabin, — closed the creaking door. Examined a wound in the shoulder. It was deep and wide, but equal as the wound given by sharply ground edge usually is, and blood flowed out a little. Casta couldn`t see the burning forehead wound but felt this wound also was trifling. Grazes and bruises on legs and hands did not deserve attention at all. Having leaned against door that nobody could enter, the girl removed Tulkan's amulet from neck and, plainly without representing what needs to be done with it, just applied the stone to shoulder wound. The hand was pierced by acute pain. Casta screamed but pain passed very quickly — it was similar to needle prick. Being surprised more and more the girl observed how the cut from razor of Sambar disappeared in the very eyes without leaving even marks. In a minute only blood stains on a hand and spots on a tunic reminded of a wound.
— Gods, what a stone! — delighted Casta whispered. And remembered Tulkan suddenly again. He had this stone. Tulkan could cure wounds of the Fleecer directly in the arena when they fought — and did not make it. He could heal them in the ergastul after fight — and neglected stone magic too. Why? Why he gave her SUCH stone? Or there is something unknown sense so far too?
Casta put amulet to the cut eyebrow and by all her being felt how the wound disappeared. Then the strange thought came to her mind. Once in fight with the Massith gladiator she got deep wound in a hip. The wound safely healed but there was a whitish fragmentary scar which Casta hesitated very much. Hoping for a miracle Casta kissed magic stone and put it to the scar on a hip.
The scar disappeared.
Casta began to squeal for joy, clapped the hands, began to jump in the fulness of the heart.
— Hey, woman, what`s going on? — the voice of Vislav distributed behind a door.
She left superstructure with the dancing gait. Vislav held a wet jug for the handle.
— You have such look as if someone set a good table for us in this wooden shed, — Vislav told and stretched her the jug. — Hold, be washed.
— Not only I will be washed, — Casta mysteriously sparkled eyes. — Perhaps I will also get drunk.
— Went balmy, woman? It is sea water. It cannot be drunk.
— Now we will look, — Casta dipped Ayvari's stone into jug, took a sip. — Of course, couple of glasses of the sustained sherib would refresh me better. But also this water not too bad at all.
— I swear by Tsvir! — Vislav snatched out jug, dropped to the split neck. Having got drunk, looked at Casta with mad eyes. — Fresh! Let me burn down in an infernal belly, fresh!
— Right. It seems that you hurried to bury us.
— Hey, Leodan! — Vislav shouted. — Scoop still water.
Casta with a smile observed how her "crew" greedy satisfies thirst — with the sea water, on a miracle, inexplicable for all, which became fresh. And they looked at Casta with amazement.
— You are just real magician, woman, — Vislav just devoured her with the eyes. — Damn me Atal, Tsvir and all my gods, but I thought that you are an excellent soldier not more.
— And I thought so. Now will not prevent to think of food.
— Precisely. Do you have ideas?
— You have to have them. You are a man. To get food is your task. And I will go and wash, — here Casta laughed: she was amused very much by the dumbfounded look of Vislav and her other satellites. — The woman's task is to be well-groomed and tidy in any situation.
* * *
Vislav eventually managed to build a primitive fishing tackle from pieces of hemp and copper nailing very opportunely found and pulled out from a vessel covering. The rat caught by one of convicts went to a bait. With Sambar`s razor Vislav cut a rat on pieces, having forced Leodan to test bad attacks of nausea several times. Gods were favorable this time to them: after several failures when the fish who caught a bait broke from a hook, Vislav managed to catch a strange big fish, flat, with a long tail and a huge mouth.
— And can it be eaten? — Leodan asked fastidiously looking at the fish fighting on the deck.
— It is a stingray. Not the worst fish if you want to know.
— But we cannot eat it crude!
— Oh, kid, this just not a problem! There are a lot of pieces of wood in the hold, drag them here.
Leodan almost tremblingly observed how Vislav, having laid fragments of boards and a chip in one of braziers on a tank, made fire. Parted without flint and flint as if from air having caused a tongue of flame.
— Gods, how have you made it? — the young man exclaimed.
— Only simple spell of the Call of Fire. Real trifle.
— I truly was lucky that you are at my side in such minute! — Leodan told and his eyes were moistened.
— The luck is luck, and we are getting hungry.
— There now, the man has performed the work! — Vislav heard Casta`s voice behind his back.
The Seltonian was in great mood. While men caught fish she by means of Ayvari's stone reduced some more scars at herself on a stomach, hands and a breast and then took a nap on a floor of captain's cabin. Now she felt fresh and also full of strength. Only awfully hungry.
— Is this fish possible to eat? — she asked, looking at a stingray calmed down. — It looks extremely disgustingly.
— All the same we have nothing else, — Vislav noticed. — And this fish is eatable. I heard meat of stingray is tasty.
— And how have you got fire? — Casta noticed flame in a brazier.
— This is Vislav parted, — Leodan inserted.
— So you are a Jack of all trades? — Casta looked at the thief with interest. — And in what country such masters are born?
— Very far one. Heard anything about Resh?
— Nothing.
— Resh is my motherland. It is far in the north, in the region of snow and deep forests.
— And how did you appear in Darnat?
— Long story. So to say — I had a stormy life. It was necessary to wander much all over the world. But I am glad to it. I do not like to sit in one place longer than month.
— It is clear. Thieves' happiness calls, truly?
— I was not a thief all my life, — Vislav told, skinning stingray with the Sambar`s edge. — I was a novice in the monastery. Then student. Then soldier. Then bard. And you know, I was rather good to compose verses and songs. However I always hesitated of own compositions.
— Really? — Casta hemmed: this strange person attracted her increasing and bigger interest. — And can you sing any song to me?
— I have neither zither nor a lute.
— Sing just like that without zither and without lute. I want to listen.
— Well, if the lady asks ... — Vislav thought couple of moments, then started singing:
I loved the girl with eyes like stars
— Oyo!
On my bed I wanted to take her.
The father told me: "Listen, the lad,
I will give you a word:
You are so young to marry this time —
You are only ten years old!"
I loved the maiden with eyes like stars
— Oyo!
On the bed I wanted to take her.
But the father said: "Listen, the youth,
I will give you another word:
You are so young to marry this time —
You are just twenty years old".
I met the woman with eyes like stars
— Oyo!
On my bed I wanted to take her.
The father was angry: "Listen, the fool,
My final parental word.
With marriage you can wait still —
You are just forty years old".
The old woman neighbor made eyes at me
— Oyo!
On my bed I wanted to take her.
The father from next world came once and said:
"My son!
You lived life alone,
and now get my last word:
Do really you want
to make laugh all this world
When you are seventy years old?"
— You have a quite pleasant voice, — Casta told when Vislav stopped singing. — But song is foolish. You did well when you ceased to compose.
— So bad? — Vislav asked with a cunning mine.
— Disgusting. In general I hate poets.
— But why? As far as I know, many poets in Darnat glorified your northern beauty and your feats in the arena.
— All of them are talkers and visionaries. Why to write about feats of arms if you understand nothing in them?
— Understand nothing?
— Of course. Poets compose verses on great athletes. Also lie impudently and without measure. — Casta kept silent, remembered the necessary line. — Here, for example: "Gezion took the bow and sent an arrow as a thunder, on one thousand steps, having punched both shield and armor". Have you ever seen that anyone sent arrow on one thousand steps? On six hundred is the longest shot, and only the great archer from the best bow will be able to hit the mark from such distance. And from usual bow you won`t get for three hundred steps. Moreover to punch both armor and shield — nonsence. I would look at this poeticule on a shooting range! He would not get to a cow in fifty steps. And he sings ... And fight on swords? Yes, listen to all these authors, in every second ballad the heroes chop with swords — only shreds fly. And in reality the fighters do not chop with a sword, and cut or prick, this way, — Casta made several indicative movements, working with the imagined sword. — A sword is the same as big knife. They chop with the axe. And sword is expensive weapon, it is necessary to protect blade. If you begin to beat them as a stick, you`ll ruin all edge at the moment.
— You are just born critic, Casta, — Vislav sincerely admired.
— And how they write about death? — Casta's face grew dark, the rigid fold appeared between eyebrows. — As about something good. Honor and glory to you, the hero killed supposedly the enemy! At once it is visible, anybody was killed ever. Do not know, what is it, when you thrust sword in the person and you see during this instant of his eye. Its guts fell out of a wound, he can already tell nothing, just about will die, and horror and entreaty only are in his eyes: "Do not beat me more, I`m hurt!" Any of bards never wrote how the torn interiors stink. Or that the person shits pants during an instant of death. Cheap talkers, one word. The small dogs coddled like it, — and Casta showed on Leodan. — Only also know that the nonsense for a ride to take people.
— Perhaps, you are right, — told Vislav who was surprised by the words of this strange girl. — But if there are no poets the world will become more boring.
— Hurry up with a dinner, — Casta changed the subject. — My interior reduces of hunger.
— I liked your song very much, — whispered Leodan when Casta departed from them to an opposite board. — You are just a master! What syllable, what metrics! I am excited.
— What? — Vislav shuddered as if he woke up, looked at Leodan. — Nonsense, kid. Crappy song.
— Lie! You are unfair to yourself. This rude maiden understands nothing in fine arts.
— You think so in vain. She just gave us a line from the poem by Roklener-Sweet-Singer "Death of the hero". I bet, this beauty is a good judge in much of things ... Already`s getting dark, let's take care of our big fish.
CHAPTER 7
The pause dragged on. The copyist who was standing behind a desk with pen in a hand patiently looked at master Kiris expecting when the magician would deign to continue dictation. But Kiris did not hurry. Either considered how to finish the letter or thought of something special. And the copyist decided.
— "Sir?"
Kiris looked at the copyist.
— "What?"
— "I am waiting whether sir will deign to continue dictation".
— 'Wait a moment. Where I stopped?"
— "... also tell me when The High-Born Shofet will make the decision", — the copyist read.
— "Well. Add this: "You remember, the quicker you execute our arrangement, the earlier receive what you wish". Done?'
— "Yes, sir".
— "Now make the copy and cipher the letters. The messenger has to leave today to Darnat".
— "Of course, sir".
Kiris nodded. Passed through an office, came to a balcony. The beautiful view on Er-Dalor lit with the sunset sun and surrounded with lead-colored mountains opened from here. On the right on the rock which hung over the city powerful walls and Ham-Ashtanir's towers, the royal residence flushed. This midnight the Council of magicians of the Bowl headed by the queen Margiana will take place there. The queen will ask magicians about what is made in the last seven days and what more magicians are going to do in order that Sheran's power became still invincible.
Seems Margiana has to be happy. After the victory at Meru the remains of orcs are driven into fruitless lands in Orsiana's northwest. The Sheran army controls the whole country of orcs from Heylan to the Askarian Sea. Strategically important passes are taken and now a way to the north in Schur, Logar and to Aglam is open. Now if lord Ashran keeps the word and Darnat begins war with Sabia it will be necessary only to wait for falling of the Sabian capital of Gale. Lord Kiris did not doubt that it would happen very soon. The Sabians will not be able to resist to Darnat's army and fleet long enough — forces are too unequal. And they have no allies. Logar is too far, Seltonia is even further away, the east neighbors of Sabians, the Dorians, are busy with their everlasting conflicts. And the Sabians have nothing to pay mercenaries their treasury is empty. Already in half a year magicians of the Bowl will receive what will force all people to obey Sheran — The Abyss Gifts. And then real war will begin.
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