He was not mistaken. The blackened Ridge on which they found themselves had nothing of beauty. The ridges of sharp edges of mountain ridges stretched like black, imprinted teeth in the sleeping maw of nature. The mountaintops were covered with white snow. In deep, indented passes not even the smallest ray of sunlight reached. The night, as always in these parts, resembled an abyss full of steep slopes, rubble of stones and icy cascades of waterfalls, freezing in place, creating impassable, frosty walls. Narrow bays, carved out by centuries, were perpetually foggy. In the lower levels of the valleys, the view of dwarf willows and slender spruces dominated, a landscape of densely planted stone pines and patches of dwarf pine binding large masses of snow.
The commander seemed completely indifferent to the fate of the boy, as well as to the fate of all his companions. For him, only the order mattered, and the rest was of no importance. Giving orders was more than just a duty for him. It was an obsession to which he submitted with boundless passion. When one of his men proved disobedient, he cut off the tips of all his fingers without hesitation. He also did not like those who, instead of acting, preferred to ponder matters endlessly.
- Let him finish – Migar muttered, wrapping himself even tighter in the black fur that was a symbol of his personal isolation.
- Not long ago you wanted him to be silent. But fine, mercenary, let him talk as much as he wants. As much of him as he talks.
- I've always been treated badly - Sato continued to lament, scratching at an old wound. - That's when I understood what anger was. I had it in my eyes. I'm serious! There were barrels behind the stable, and between them lay a knife. I knew it was hidden there. I felt that this moment would change everything. I decided to... I had to do it. Last chance. I tried to plunge it into the neck of my father's murderer, but all I hit was air. He jumped back at the last moment, as if he knew my intentions better than I did. He threw me to the ground, striking me in the throat with the hilt. I choked and squeezed my hands together, trying to catch my breath. I had never been closer to death. He gave me a look as terrible as the hollows he had on his head. He looked like a monster. I remember what he shouted, looking down at me… "Reap what you sow, dog!" It started to rain. – Listening to him, they began to feel their bodies grow colder. Every word he spoke carried darkness with it. – And then… Suddenly he appeared. A man with an owl on his shoulder. I tell you, it was Hjalkan. I'm not lying! It turned out that for some time there had been complaints about the city guards. They were doing their jobs badly, so someone had to take care of it.
"So you're saying he saved you? " Visander asked him out of curiosity. " I don't know him very well, but everyone is aware of his indifference to anyone's life. It's hard to believe that someone like that would care about your fate. I doubt you're some high-born youth who ended up somewhere he shouldn't have. You were lucky, nothing more, but you won't find it here."
The soldiers riding right behind him seemed to fully agree with his sentiments. Their mouths stretched into smiles, twisted into mocking grimaces.
"And I believe you, boy ," Migar said unexpectedly. " There's something sinister about this place. I miss the hills green as spring leaves. The peace of home, where nothing disturbed the harmony of the days. But now that we're here, when there's no turning back... at least finish this story. Throw it on the shore. I'll try to forget about these dead peaks that stick into the sky like thorns for a while. This is my last contact with these lands, I fucking swear. I'll never set foot here again."
- So... so he asked if I could lend him a knife for a moment - The boy stuttered with stress. - He stuck it straight into the eye of one of the guards, and then said: - Look what a good man he was. He decided to be an example so that others would not follow in his footsteps. - Immediately after that Hjalkan burst out laughing. The others could not control their trembling. That fear... It hung in the air. The rest was just noise. Insides that had flowed out like earthworms dragged down the street. The rain washed them away, leaving only wet, slippery earth. Then I understood that when running away from an earthworm, one could come across vipers. I wondered if they were digging corridors under us, could they carve them in our entrails? Fear collided with a strange feeling of relief at the same time.
The commander took a deep breath. His gaze locked on the boy.
"Now I have no doubt that it's true. It sounds exactly like him. His way, his... methods... But I still don't understand how you ended up here. And I assume you pulled that rusty blade you're holding out of your eye socket after it was all over. You left a dark, empty hole behind it, and it serves you to this day."
"You're not wrong at all," Sato assured. "I lied to Hjalkan, saying I wanted to repay you, that I would do whatever he wanted. What was I supposed to do? He allowed me to earn my meaningless life. Now I'm dependent on you and your fighting skills. You'll be the ones to decide whether I survive, although I know the chances are slim indeed."
"You're smart for your age," Visander told him as he grinned. "But this time you've outsmarted yourself. It's good that you realize you'll probably die. Even if you make it out alive, you'll come back with a body that looks healthy, but also a mind that'll be forever scarred. You'll live, but there'll be a void inside that can't be filled. And none of that is worth the price you'll have to pay."
- If I survive, I'll avenge my father first and foremost! - the boy insisted. - I'll kill the one who knocked me down, and then I'll fall asleep by a fire. By some burning coals... They'll glow, and I'll feel fulfilled - he argued with dried tears on his chin, as if his life had no other purpose than revenge. - And then I can die.
"- I admire your determination," Visander replied, slightly annoyed. "It's high time you were on your guard, boy." He fell silent for a moment, then added, looking at the hole in the trunk that had caught his attention. "Look." He pointed at the tree. "If it's not inhabited by wild animals, there might be a warrior in it. With a spear. Maybe... Maybe not. You never know, but you have to be prepared for any possibility. The people here are known for their traps, and with these weapons they'd like to pin you to the ground. A land that's as wild and harsh as those who inhabit it. The Paleskinned. That's what they call them. They're not hard to come by here. They're a terrible people who know no mercy. They have disgusting habits, and the symbols carved into their skin are part of their dark identity. They grew up in the shadow of the gallows their parents hung from. They've always been associated with violence. They are mostly runaways and outlaws. They love to wreak havoc by burning small, defenseless towns and settlements.
The forest was covered in thick, motionless white. The trail remained slippery, icy, and covered in a blanket of snow. The branches of the trees, burdened by this coating, bent under its weight, creating an image resembling dangling hands. The smooth surface of the ice on the lake next to it allowed light to penetrate its depths. Migar suddenly looked up and saw in the distance a streak of smoke rising upwards like a ghostly tower, almost immersed in the clouds.
"Look ," he said, pointing a crooked, frozen finger in her direction . "Some village. It's about a mile from here. I hope it's nothing more than our destination. I want to get out of here as quickly as possible and get this over with."
- You are not impatient, and a patient man can boil even a stone - Visander explained to him. - Soon the worst will be true. Listen to the wind. Do you hear? This melody is a cold song that is supposed to calm us down. Some consider him a hero, others a murderer. In the eyes of some he is a criminal, in the eyes of others a man who sacrificed everything for the greater good. But to us he is only a target. Our master ordered us to track him down, and he does not forgive sins. Kylhar has betrayed and is wanted. Let us make sure to deliver his head, and you will never again have to worry about hunger or cold.
The violent beating of the hearts, which seemed to tear the breasts of the mercenaries, was calmed only by the promise, though even that could not entirely quell the anxiety. The small column of horsemen rode up the slope, and then along a narrow, steeply descending path, which led them down until they passed a vast moor. They stopped by a spreading oak, which stood out from the other trees with its massive, spreading crown. They dismounted and tied their horses tightly to one of the thicker branches.
The village on the icy river looked like a floating ghost in the fog. The modest cottages, built mostly of wood, were already slowly succumbing to the ravages of time, showing signs of decay – boards covered with mold, cracked from frost and damp. Their thatched roofs now looked concave and overgrown with moss. During the day, they were perhaps illuminated by the sunlight entering through the window openings, but at night they allowed only fear and darkness to creep in.
Migar went to another tree to cool down. His hands felt the cold birch bark as he gently cut into it. For a moment, he thought he saw something like blood leaking from the wound in the trunk. He knew that the food supply was running low. He hated to starve. He had no intention of following in the footsteps of his previous companions, who had saved themselves with ground bark and poisonous herbs. He crouched down by a puddle and began to scoop water into his cupped hands. The water was cold, tiny ice crystals floating on its surface. It seeped into his chapped lips, and he wiped the moisture with the back of his hand, feeling the chill in the air.
The commander stopped for a moment. In the silence of the night, filled only by the sound of the wind, he felt the hearts of his men beating in unison. He clenched his hand on the hilt of his sword in a gesture of readiness.