LITMIR.BIZ

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He shook it for a surprisingly long time.

      "Not quite so," replied a tall man who was accompanying the old man, "we do not have arrows, but there is an ancient crypt near us. Another hunter was buried in it ten years ago."

      I nodded. If he had any arrows left, we should look for them near him. Ten years ago, the Order gave almost every hunter his own crossbow. But things change, only the general law seems immutable. The Grave Moss Emperor's command is as categorical as a double-edged knife. "Whoever steals a hunter's property from him shall be executed, and if any hunter steals from others, let him do the same, let him be put to death."

      The old-timer almost dragged out his earlier speech about the old days again, taking advantage of the pause.

      "Is there any uneasiness in the village?" I tried to look into the old man's eyes. He blinked and stopped his shuffle, standing there flapping his eyes.

      "What do you mean?" finally the old man looked at me questioningly.

      "Have the hunters gone missing? Are all the children healthy?" I was beginning to feel a little sick, weak.

      The other man, who had thrown the Elder off the wall with his partner, grinned. With his powerful neck and working shoulders, however, he shook his round belly.

      "There is such a thing. Why shouldn't it be, it's commonplace. Hunters disappear every now and then, children get sick when they lick the gray earth, or when pestilence blows from the north, the same thing." It was a very eloquent mocking look. He didn't seem to like me, and because of some of his beliefs he despised me.

      I looked down, and then glanced sideways, eye to eye with my laughing companion.

      "What dashing thing ever happened? One that would make the whole village afraid and unable to do anything," I said firmly.

      All around froze. It felt cold. Another big man shivered, and the Elder continued, "It was, it was! It happened…" He began to remember and worry. "Last week, I remember, it was yesterday. Three of our village hunters were brought to us, all pale, as if they had never seen the light of Jodkheim. They couldn't put the memorial relic in the crypt."

      "I see," I nodded. "Anything else?"

      "As my grandson said, there is an ancient crypt here." The village head pointed in the direction with his hand. "We used to bury everyone in it, but there's someone dangerous there now, growling and roaring, and I don't want to go inside and check who's there."

      "Grandson?" I ran my gaze once more over the broad shoulders of the young man, and he smiled proudly back at me, catching my sleepy and slanted gaze.

      "I see," I nodded again and moved on to the slippery subject. "What will you pay with?"

      At that moment a boy appeared. He was carrying a rag full of something heavy. The Elder waved his hand, beckoning him to come closer to him.

      "My great-grandson is a bright boy," the old man said, rubbing the child's head and pursing his lips.

      The man on my right unfolded the bundle and showed me the contents. Inside were precious jasper earrings with emeralds, a silver necklace upholstered in gold, and a gold ring so rich in content that one would not find such a thing in Count Feanot. Here also lay someone's wedding ring, signed "I love you T.T."; it seems that the villagers cannot read. Next to it was a tourmaline-encrusted hair comb, without two prongs, made of a rare alloy that had been brought from the Light Motherland. A handful of fanciful antiquities, so mysterious that I twirled them thoughtfully in my hands. Their purpose was unknown to me. And there were forty coins in gold underneath all the jewelry. I struggled to resist the urge to take more than the Order's code allowed. "I wish I could shoot you in the head with that black arrow," I remembered the words of a stingy mercenary who had once traveled with me. Meanwhile, noticing my hesitation, the village chief continued, "Travelers and caravans rarely come to us…" "We don't even remember how much it costs? It must be a lot, right?"

      Looking at the Elder again, I answered, "I'll take as much as my work is worth, no more." I took two gold coins from his hand. And in my mind I thought, "How about that! They're burying him in crypts! No, just stealing his valuables."

      Everyone had a look of utter amazement on their faces. Apparently, they had no idea of the wealth they possessed. The young men standing behind the old man looked at each other. One of them quickly took the gold for himself. The boy lowered his head, and without waiting for the bag of coins, he kicked a roadside stone.

      "In the morning, since there are no blacks..... I need simple arrows. It won't be easy to get through the woods to the crypt. You have some dangerous predators here. Now I'd like to get some sleep, I'm tired from the road."

      "Go to the house on the right, Revva lives there. Her husband died not so long ago, so she'll take you in for the night," the old man explained.

      I slightly raised my pointed hat and left. I was terribly sleepy. The boy darted forward, apparently to warn the woman who lived there.

      When I arrived, everything was ready. The woman invited me to the table and put a simple plate in the form of a flat board with meat and leaves. I took the meat with my hand and took a few bites, swallowed it almost without chewing. Promising to cook something else for me, she disappeared into the next room. I picked up a bottle of murky tincture and took a sip of something very strong. That was the last straw.

      Dumpling wanted to give me something else to eat, but I wasn't much of a gourmet, so the naked woman found me sleeping with my face in the salad. I was soaked by the burning fireplace, and as soon as I sat down, I fell asleep. Two days on horseback through one of the most dangerous regions of the Empire. I bet anyone, even the toughest of men, would have passed out after that. So at the first opportunity, my body took its own, feeling safe.

      The woman sighed and sat back in her chair with her foot on her leg, pouring a strong drink. Wake up the dangerous black bird that had flown into her house? A hunter? A killer of the chilled? She didn't dare.

      Chapter 3: "Crypts and Guardians"

      A small black-backed varan with luscious yellow flanks blocked the way, opened its bright scarlet collar, sharply poured with blood, and hissed, chasing the intruders away. He was not intimidated at all, so he preferred to move out of their way, noticing the glint of glass and metal and the confidence with which the intruders were advancing. Folding its crests and blowing its yellow flanks, the varan hid in a burrow beneath a boulder overgrown with rusty moss.

      The two travelers emerged from the Dark Forest where not a single strand of Titan reached the ground. The well-lit edge, however, allowed a few rays of Titan Yodkheim to fall upon their serious faces. Before them stood the burial ground of the ancient highborn. A stone-walled cemetery with the same centuries-old marble slabs and mounds of forefathers who had been the continent's explorers. Behind them, a mysterious crypt was in a light haze, waiting for rare guests. Five feet high and with a massive colonnade, it could have rivaled the small walls of the First Gate that stood on the road in front of the Fortress of Rukh. Only here the archway led not to the last Lands of Light, but somewhere deep in the centuries, into the impenetrable darkness.

      The fog was not uniform. It flowed like a marshmallow, parting under their footsteps, swirling along the trunks of trees, and creeping over the ground. The bottom layer floated and drifted right over the dirt as if it were smoking. The soil squelched and implied a swamp, in time safely hidden behind fall, moss, and bumps. The branches did not crunch underfoot, they remained damp in such depths of dark woods.

      A man in black robes took the first step onto the cemetery ground, right through the masonry of a marble arch that had long ago collapsed. With the arc of his crossbow he cautiously beckoned the other man behind him and walked along the stone fence, leaving a direct path along the same stone path to the steps up to the colonnade in front of the crypt.

      Serenity reigned over the ancient ruins. Centuries-old elms and oaks swayed on all sides from the wind walking through their crowns here. The leaves murmured, shimmered, whispered. But the travelers shunned going out into the open, they walked along the masonry fence along the edge of the burial grounds. This fence, heavily pierced by roots, had been the only barrier to the darkness since the cemetery

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