"A demon is a creature of Darkness. It feeds on the life force of people and serves destruction. But not only destruction. Like any other object, a demon can be used both for the benefit of a person and to harm people. Everyone owns a knife. But this knife can be used to kill a neighbor, and to protect your life and the lives of loved ones from an enemy. And here you need to understand - the same knife is an unreasonable object, without its own will. A demon is soulless, but rational. And woe to the magician who tries to cope with a demon and cannot do it! The demon will absorb his soul, kill his body. And in the worst case - it will capture, subjugate, and then the person will become his slave, begin to do cruel things, and himself will become a demon in the flesh. "
Ned put the book down, drummed his fingers on the table and, getting up from his chair, walked around the kitchen. For the second day, he tried to fish out something useful from the books, something that would help him understand the essence of demons and learn something new. Alas, he could not learn anything except what he already knew, there are some entities called "demons". They can be controlled, but if you do not cope with them - they break out of control and kill their master. Or enslave him. And nothing about what demons are: that they are living beings or not, why they can be controlled and HOW they can be controlled. In those books that Ned got from the bookstore, everything was said in allegories, some hints, half-hints - and no specifics. None at all.
The last book Ned read was called "Yusarr Tinagra's Treatise on the Origin of Demons," and there was nothing in it either - the author filled the treatise with pompous, grandiloquent phrases, moralizing, and stories about what scoundrels these black magicians are who send their demons. And that they should be feared - both magicians and demons. Long stories about how demons eat people from the inside, with all the details and even drawings. Descriptions of the perversions and nastiness of demonologists. And nothing more.
It seemed as if the author enjoyed describing the various mischiefs perpetrated by demons and demonic masters. There was no information about the nature of demons or the spells used to protect against the influence of these creatures.
As for those who can control demons, very little was said and it was vague: "Magicians who control demons have been encountered very rarely for some time now, and this knowledge has been banned." By whom? What ban? Nothing specific was said, not a single word. There was only one way left - to seek knowledge in those very scrolls that no one can read.
Ned walked over to the shelf where he had placed the scrolls he had bought and looked closely at the ends of the "books." The scrolls were yellowed, and in places there were spots, as if the leather had been scorched by fire. Yes, the scrolls were leather, very thin, soft leather, only slightly hardened by time.
Ned hadn't looked through the contents of the rolls yet, trying to find what he needed in the books printed in plain language first. He had meticulously leafed through every book on magic that mentioned demons, spending all his free time from training on it. It had killed time, but it hadn't gotten what he wanted.
Two days ago he moved into Zadara's house, and all this time he was either training, or sitting and lying, looking through books on magic. He devoted four to five hours a day to sword training, the master said that he did not need more. Especially since Ned was growing incredibly quickly in skill.
As Tiraz said, it feels as if his new student is not learning anew, but remembering what he has learned, lost after a long and serious illness. He instantly grasps everything that the master teaches him, all that remains is to hone the movements to the perfection that distinguishes the masters. And now, after only two lessons, Ned has approached the level of a senior student, almost a master.
The Master did not ask Ned how this was possible, although various thoughts wandered in his head - from the version that Ned was hiding his abilities for a reason unknown to Tiraz, to an assumption based on the possible loss of the student's memory. Ned did not dispel all these assumptions. He simply remained silent. The Master accepted everything as it was, especially since during each training Ned demonstrated to him everything he knew in martial arts, and Tiraz watched attentively, remembered, sketched the stances, strikes, throws, movements of his student.
For a master whose life was entirely connected with military affairs, the restoration of an ancient, forgotten style of combat is an incredibly important, interesting matter. Much more interesting than the fate of Ned himself.
Ned took one of the scrolls, dark as if it had been smoked over a fire, carried it to the table, to the lantern, and, turning the flame of the lantern brighter, began to peer intently at the lines of runes that covered the scroll as if a crowd of cockroaches were running over it. The slightly faded ink was lost in the yellowish leather, and Ned tried for a long time to make out what was written, making out, remembering the writing of the runes, until his eyes ached and he put the scroll away in annoyance. It seemed that reading ancient scrolls was not for a dull evening…
He walked up to the dining room table and grinned at the memory, pouring himself some apple cider from a tall clay jug. The three old women had been tenderly looking after him the entire two days that Ned had been in the house, constantly coming over, offering him treats and infusions, demanding clothes to wash, and only calming down when Ned had openly asked them to leave him alone, saying that he wanted to study and that they were in the way. This was a killer argument that had swept the women out of the house, even though he had heard their footsteps near the window, sneaking up and watching Ned read his books.
When Ned moved in, everything in the little house prepared for him was indeed sparkling and shining. Two of Zadara's maids, friends of hers, gray-haired like herself but a little younger, polished, scrubbed, and washed the place, and were finished just before noon, when Ned moved his things in.
The hostess proudly demonstrated the cleanliness she had brought, and from that moment on Ned found himself under the harsh pressure of love from three women who could have been his grandmothers.
For him, an orphan who had never received the slightest parental affection, it was quite hard to fall under the wheel of grandmothers' love. And strange. It was not for nothing that Tiraz rarely visited the old ladies, and now Ned understood why.
Goraz grinned cheerfully when Ned complained about the pressure of the old ladies, and shrugged his shoulders: "The children are far away, the grandchildren are far away - you have to babysit someone, right? No matter, you'll get stronger. But now you know what boundless parental love is - when they try to practically carry you to the toilet in their arms!"
Ned read in the master's brain with slight indignation that he had sent him to Zadara on purpose, achieving two goals at once - Ned received cheap, comfortable housing, and the old ladies received a large doll with which to play a fun game of "Grandmother and Grandson". And everyone was happy. And the fact that Ned was indignant about the excessive care was the result of the boy's orphanhood - after all, the boy does not know any parental love, so the old ladies' care seems excessive to him. Never mind, he will soon go to war, live in tents - then he will remember this hospitable home, and regret leaving it. Until he returns here again...
And so the last two days of Ned's leave passed. Tomorrow he would begin his duties as a sergeant.
At the base, they took his move quite simply – he received his "apartment allowance", "rations", ordered a cart to take his things, left his current address, and at noon the cart, driven by one of the base's drivers, stopped at the gates of Zadara's house. Thus began his life in the new place.
Ned went back to the books he had put aside. He read the scrolls during the day, but now he wanted to at least learn something about magic, at least understand a little of what it was.
"The Basics of Magic" - I read the title and opened the book. The first thing I saw was: "If you intend to study magic on your own, without teachers properly trained in the agar, leave it! You can incur the wrath of the gods, you can harm yourself and those around you! Come to your senses! Contact the nearest agar, and you will be given the necessary help!"
Ned chuckled – no way, he definitely won't go into the agar. Why did they even forbid talking about demonology? And what will they do with a ready-made demonologist, a black magician? Maybe send him to the stake? Somehow I don't feel like it… you'll make do!
"The Nature of Magic" - he read the first section and delved into the reading. Half an hour was enough for him to understand that he understood nothing. Well - nothing at all. It seemed to be written in understandable words, in ordinary letters, but as soon as he began to read - he fell into a stupor.
Well, how do you understand, for example, the sentence: "The essence of magic is in magic itself. The gods grant power to those who can accept this power, and do not grant it to the weak"? He understood it like this: there is magic, and those who have the ability can do magic. Well, why not write it like this - simply, without any frills?
Ned remembered what the shopkeeper had said when he was selling the books, and shook his head in annoyance – indeed, it would be very difficult to wade through the textbooks. Probably, the textbooks were written so convolutedly precisely because training should take place in magical schools, and not independently. If someone tried to study on their own, they would have big problems with reading comprehension. More precisely, they simply would not be able to understand the text.
Ned gave up trying to understand the origins of magic and leafed through the book until he found a section called "Basic Spells for Developing Abilities." He chuckled in satisfaction - that's what he needed!
So:
"A spell called 'Shadr's Spark'. Used to ignite flammable substances and release a fireball.
Execution: the right hand makes a "negation" gesture in the lower plane, the left hand makes a "Gursat throw" vertically downwards.
Pronounced: "Heler tunar arsss" in two pitches - the first word in a low tone, the other two in a medium tone. During pronunciation, the student must imagine a magical space from which he draws the required amount of energy.
Warning: If you capture more than enough energy, the effect after casting the spell may be unpredictable, ranging from ball lightning to a burst of flame.
Both gestures are made simultaneously with the pronunciation of magic words; the difference between actions and words is no more than a second or two.
"How simple!" Ned protested. "And what is Goursat's throw? And what is the 'denial' gesture?"
I looked at the list of sections and found: "Gestures necessary for the work of spells", opened it. Found: "Throw of Gurs. Imagine that you snatch something invisible from the air with three fingers of your left hand and throw it in the desired direction. For each spell this direction is different. Deviation from the throwing angle by more than a third can lead to an unpredictable result."
"The 'denial' gesture. The right hand with an open palm is positioned in a plane above the horizontal surface. You move your hand from left to right, as if denying. The movement must be precise, deviations are hardly permissible.
The "denial" gesture is performed in three planes, for each type of spell - in the lower, middle and upper levels. The lower level is the level of the magician's lower abdomen, the middle level is two fingers above the navel, the upper level is the nipple level. The movement is performed with the hand, the forearm is relaxed and remains motionless. Warning! If the forearm moves during the execution of the denial gesture, the result may be unpredictable!
Ned cursed - they scared him! "Unpredictable" - what is this? Vague threats - well, if only they could clearly say what would happen if they made a mistake, and they?! Scoundrels...
He walked to the middle of the kitchen, relaxed, closed his eyes, imagining some magical space from which he would take energy for the spell... Or rather, he tried to imagine it. Then he made gestures, simultaneously saying: "Heler tunar arsss."
And… nothing happened. No, not exactly nothing – the air stank of burnt rags. And that was it. Ned cursed again and remembered – he had forgotten to change the tone. The first word – in a low voice, the second and third – in medium pitch.
He stood in the middle again, made passes, shouted words... empty. Nothing. If the first time it smelled like something was burning, the second time - absolutely nothing.
I repeated it again... and again... and again... I got exhausted and sat down at the table, rereading the textbook again and thinking - what did I do wrong.
After half an hour of reading I realized that he doesn't know how to draw energy. He doesn't know how to connect to a source of magic, if there is one. I had to start from the very first pages, where it should be described how to do all this. I can't skip all those sections that are dedicated to training apprentice magicians.
For some reason Ned thought that, like with the martial art that had been given to him for free, he would just take it, say a spell, and… now he was a magician! After all, he had already sent demons? Why couldn't he cast magic then?
And then he answered himself: who said that the one who penetrated his brain could do magic like that? Maybe he had a completely different direction of magic? Maybe demonology and ordinary magic almost never intersect? Besides, he still couldn't consciously release demons. In all those cases when he did it, Ned acted during a period of mental clouding. That is, it was like he, Ned, was doing magic, but it was also like he wasn't…
Ned slammed his fist on the table in irritation – it wasn't working! Well, yes, he knew it would be difficult, but not to this extent! But why not to this extent? In martial arts, the master shows how to hold the sword, how to move, how best to take a blow, how to parry. Why did he think it would be so easy with magic? Because he wanted it to be so?
Having entered the bedroom, Ned sat down on the bed, threw off his shirt and trousers, remaining in only his underwear, and froze, thinking about what to do next. If he continued his magic studies, then... hmm... And who knows - what "that". Two days of independent studies were enough to understand - he was completely unprepared to use magic. And that you can't take it in one go. All he can do is memorize a few "simplest" spells, trying to reproduce them every day, hoping that it will work. Without a teacher, it is almost impossible to understand witchcraft. And this is very, very annoying.
Ned stood up, energetically did a few exercises, warming up after several hours of sitting still in one place - whatever one may say, martial arts are the most important thing for him now. He will read about magic. He will study literature. But these books, alas, will not protect him from an enemy spear or sword (unless, of course, they are folded in thick piles and tied around the body like armor). So he will have to sweat a lot...
By the way, about "sweating" - Ned really was sweating, so he decided to go out into the yard, rinse himself with ice-cold water from the well. Of course, he could have heated the water in the cauldron, poured it into the bath... in the middle of the night? It was easier to pour a bucket over himself, dry himself with a towel - and that was it. He didn't want to go to bed sweaty. He pulled back the bolt. Locked himself in, just in case. Both from old ladies wanting to grab his attention, and from enemies who might want Ned's treasures. What treasures? At least a spear. Or a sword. Or books. And Ned had some money. Why lead people into temptation?
The red moon had already come into its own. A crimson light, reminiscent of torchlight, filled the garden with an unreal, magical glow. Ned's eyes adjusted to the darkness in a minute, and he stood on the porch with pleasure, inhaling the scent of night flowers and looking at the moths flickering in the air like living stars. They buzzed, moving from flower to flower, and glowing rings were visible on their backs. According to legend, these moths, called lunar moths, belonged to the goddess of the red moon. She marked them with rings reminiscent of the disk of this night luminary.
Ned glanced at another sector of the sky and noticed a black moon, visible only when it blocked out the stars. The black moon rose two hours after sunset, which told Ned it was past midnight and he needed to hurry up and wash up and go to bed to get at least four hours of rest.
Approaching the well, he opened the lid, turned the winch, lowered the wooden tub down until the rope loosened, waited and began to lift the bucket, which had grown heavier. He placed the bucket on the edge of the well, took aim... and stopped - he wasn't going to sleep in wet shorts, was he? He stripped naked, took the bucket, stepped aside onto the grass, and, cowering in anticipation, lifted the bucket and poured it over his head and shoulders.
Ned felt like he was being scalded! The water was so icy in contrast to his heated body that his body perceived this jolt as if boiling water had been splashed on him. Ned almost screamed - he jumped up and down on the spot, snorting like a horse after watering, and waved his arms, splashing in all directions. Then he did a few exercises, getting the blood going. When he finished, he put the tub on the well lid and, taking his shorts in his hands, went home, putting his feet in sandals.
Suddenly there was a rustling sound, and a light figure slid around the corner towards Ned. He noticed it out of the corner of his eye and, immediately assuming a fighting stance, strode towards the enemy, preparing for a fatal blow. His body sang from the energy he had received, because the enemy would get everything he deserved.
The stranger rushed at Ned, who caught him in midair, holding him in a death grip, raising his hand for a crushing blow... and then the stranger's face fell under the light of the moon, which came out from behind a random cloud.
Sanda! It was her!
Ned froze, stunned by the "meeting" - it was simply incredible! All the days since he broke up with the girl, Ned had no contact with her. The next day she was not at the gate, and how she found out his new address, how she ended up in the garden - is unknown.
"What are you doing?" he asked hoarsely, releasing the disheveled girl from his grip. "Is that how you act?! I could have killed you!"
- He didn't kill you! - she snorted happily. - I watched you bathe and jump around the lawn. That was funny! And you look good naked... I've never seen a naked man. Babies don't count.
Only then did Ned remember that he was standing in front of the girl completely naked. And the light of the black moon did not allow him to hope that any details of his anatomy would be hidden from the inquisitive girls' eyes, carefully examining him from head to toe.
Ned wanted to retreat into the house immediately, then decided that it would be better to hide his nakedness under a piece of cloth that he held in his hand and threw on the grass during the attack. He lifted his underpants and pulled them over his wet thighs under the mocking gaze of the girl .
"How handsome! How handsome he is! And strong... scoundrel! How dare you deceive me?! My beloved... And what is his... Is everyone like that?"
"How did you end up here?" Ned asked sullenly, quickly turning off the perception of the girl's thoughts, which were making him blush.
"Maybe you'll let me in? I'm feeling a bit chilled," Sanda said plaintively.
"Come in," Ned nodded and, turning, walked up onto the porch.
His mind was in complete disarray – what to do with her in the middle of the night? No – he knew what to do with girls in the middle of the night, but this wasn't it! Take her home? And how would that look? He was bringing a girl home in the middle of the night, and would anyone believe that they hadn't had anything? Only an idiot would. And as Ned had already found out, Sanda's parents weren't idiots.
Throw her out the gate? It would be the same as if he had given the girl over to be torn apart by night robbers, rapists and slave traders. Incidentally, they could actually steal her and send her into slavery. And nothing surprising - such cases happened all the time, his colleagues told him. Decent girls living in a prosperous family would not wander around at night, and there was no one to stand up for an orphan. So the girls went on long journeys, including to other continents - in the south, they say, they value white slave girls. Local leaders pay for them with pure gold and precious stones or give many of their own, dark-skinned slaves. Therefore, wandering at night was categorically not recommended for all girls - beautiful and not so -. However, for guys too, if they do not have a good blade at their side and do not know how to use it.
Ned closed the door behind Sanda, trying not to look at the girl, pulled on his pants and shirt. Then he pulled an empty chair up to the table and sat down, watching the girl quickly devour the pies baked by the cook, washing them down with apple broth.
"So you're going to tell me what you're doing in this garden and where you came from?" Ned began coldly. "What demon brought you here, and in the dead of night? Are you completely out of your mind? What are you doing?"
- Sorry, I'm so hungry! - Sanda smiled apologetically, chewing the last piece. - I'll be right there, right now!
She swallowed, washed down the food with pleasure from a clay mug, leaned back in her chair and, shrugging her shoulders, said:
- So I found you! I told you - you can't get away from me. Why did you deceive me? Who said they would come to my house?
- Well, I said it! So what? I already told you - it's useless, nothing will work out for us. So what demon were you looking for me? And how did you find me? How did you end up in the garden?
– I found you. At first I was waiting. You didn't come. In the morning I went to the base. I started asking them to call you. I said that I was your fiancée, pregnant, whom you had villainously abandoned. They chased me away, but I cried and sobbed. They took pity, and when the inspector came, they told him about me. The inspector went to look for you, found out that you had rented an apartment and left. And he also gave me the address where you had gone, so that I wouldn't hang around by the gate and bother the guards. I went, found the house, found a hole in the fence – there, in the corner, one board slides aside. You can squeeze through. Big ones won't fit through there, but I'm thin, so I squeezed through. But it was already twilight. I decided to wait for you to come out – I saw your silhouette in the window. And also – to wait until it got dark. After all, you wouldn't have the conscience to throw me out at night. You came out… and now I'm with you. That's all.
Ned froze, not knowing what to say. Then he looked straight at the pleased with herself girl and asked sharply:
- What if I take a belt now and spank you?
- It won't be good. But I'll put up with it. Just don't send me away and let me live with you. Anyway, you're officially my fiancé now and I'm pregnant with your child! - Sanda giggled happily. - It's great that I found you, huh?
- No, how dare you accuse me of seducing you, an innocent girl?! And now everyone will say that I'm a scoundrel? Do you even understand what you've done? Stop! And your parents?! How will they react?! Oh gods! Now expect a delegation to the base commander! They'll accuse me of all sins! Seduced and kidnapped a girl! Or kidnapped and then seduced?
- Well, here's the deal: it's already happened. I'm in your house, you seduced me, so you have nothing to lose. Let's go to bed, okay?
- Look, you'll sleep over there, on the floor. I'll make you some bed, and you can sleep. And I'll sleep on the bed. And also, because of you, I'll sleep less than I should. Than I'd hoped to sleep. In the morning, I'll take you to your house, and we'll sort this misunderstanding out.
"How can we settle this?" Sanda asked with interest. "Will you marry me?"
- Cough-cough! - Ned coughed. - We'll settle it - that means you go home, and I go home! And nothing else! That's it! We're done!
- And we haven't finished anything. We haven't even started yet, - the girl shook her head stubbornly. - Okay, we'll talk tomorrow. Where can I wash up? Do you have a bathtub?
- There is a bath! But not for you! - Ned got angry. - What did you come here for? To take a bath? You can wash yourself at home. That's it, I'm going to make the bed, and you quickly go to the toilet - and sleep. I'll make the bed over there, in the guest room. There's a couch there, so you won't have to sleep on the floor. I'll give you a blanket. Go home in the morning. End of conversation!
Ned got up from the table, picked up a lantern and went into the bedroom. He looked for extra sheets, found some, went into the guest room and made up Sanda's bed. Then he went back to his own bedroom, undressed and lay down on the bed, listening to the girl making noise with the water, humming something, occasionally yelping when she tipped another ladle over herself.
Although the water had been poured into the bath boiler beforehand and was not as cold as the well water, it was hard to call it warm. To warm it up, you had to light the stove, but neither Ned nor Sanda did that.
Listening to what was happening in the bathroom, Ned painfully imagined Sanda standing in a copper container and pouring water over herself under the light of the red moon falling through the window. He wanted to be with the girl, and, frankly speaking, he was glad that she had appeared in the house, despite the fact that this demon had disgraced him in front of the entire base. But... many "buts". And most importantly - he loved her. And if what was supposed to happen now happened - did he have the moral right to leave her in an interesting position? Not to mention the scandal that Sanda's parents would throw - in the end they would figure out where their dissolute daughter was. They would go to her friends - and she had already managed to boast to them that she had found a groom - they would report Ned, the parents would go to the base ... and he would have to answer to the colonel, explaining that Ned had not kidnapped anyone, that everything was by mutual consent, and ...
Ned's thoughts were interrupted by a thin, slender figure sliding under his blanket. The girl pressed her whole body against him, hugged him and, trembling, said:
- I'm so cold! I'll freeze up there alone! You're not such a beast as to make me freeze, are you? Look how cold your hand is! - Sanda put her palm to Ned's stomach - her hand really was icy.
Ned, not expecting it from himself, carefully embraced Sanda, laying her head on his chest. He had imagined this so many times in his dreams that he was not even surprised when his hands did it on their own, as if without his participation. Sanda's elastic, cool breasts with hardened nipples pressed against his side, and the top of her head with wet, herb-scented hair was right in front of his lips, which he did not fail to take advantage of, kissing her lightly. Ned's hand lightly stroked Sanda between the shoulder blades, which made her shudder and, quietly giggling, said:
– It tickles… but feels so good! Ever since I saw you, I've been dreaming about how we'd end up in the same bed. True, I imagined it all a little differently, but… everything never happens the way you imagine, does it? Let's forget who we are. Let's just remain lovers, okay? At least for one night! I understand that we may not have a future. But we have two months, isn't that enough? Many people don't have even that. The goddess gave us love, why should we refuse? Why are you resisting the will of the gods? They might get angry…
Sanda rolled over onto her stomach, crawled onto the silent Ned and began kissing him slowly and tenderly at first, then harder and faster on the lips, cheeks, eyes, going lower and lower... Then she threw off the blanket and decisively pulled the last remnants of clothing off Ned. The bastion in the form of army shorts surrendered without a fight to the mercy of the winner.
* * *
- Tired?
"I'm kind of tired," Ned chuckled, looking relaxedly at the ceiling. "You did everything. If I didn't know, I wouldn't have believed it…"
– Don't you think there are too many conventions in our life? A girl shouldn't want her boyfriend… shouldn't run after him… shouldn't… What else shouldn't she? A lot of things. And why? Aren't I the same person as you?
- Hmm... not quite like that, of course...
- What makes you different? That's all?
- Ouch! Don't pull! It hurts! Be careful... it will come in handy later.
- Sorry. I got a little nervous. All my life they've been hammering it into my head - you're a girl, don't do this and that, it's not proper for you... you're not supposed to... you... there's a lot of "you" stuff! But I wanted you and I took you! That's it!
- What you took, you took... let's go to bed, huh? I have to go to work tomorrow. However, I wouldn't mind one more time...
- That's enough for now. To be honest... I'm still a little sore. Can you wait a couple of days?
- I'll wait. Sleep...
The lovers embraced, and a minute later Sanda was already asleep, throwing her leg over Ned and hugging him with her arm across her chest. Ned could not fall asleep, excited by the girl's closeness, remembering what had happened shortly before.
Having decided to fall asleep after all, he took the girl's arm and leg off himself, carefully tucked the blanket under her and, getting out of bed, went to the guest room. There he took another blanket, went back and, having laid down, turned away from Sanda and closed his eyes, listening to her even snoring. He felt very good. Like never before in his life. She was right - come what may, but this night belonged to the two of them, and there were still many days and nights ahead. And then - come what may. Whatever the gods mixed in this mug called "peace", so it will be, whether you wish for it or rely on the will of providence.
Five minutes later he was asleep too, calmly, like a child in a cradle next to his favorite toy.
* * *
- Well, get to your duties! - Drancon grinned. - Today's plan is physical training - running in full combat gear, then practicing formation combat, after lunch - practicing fighting in groups of two or three people and one on one. Ends at six o'clock in the evening. The loads are now reduced by order of Colonel Heverad, so after six you can calmly walk to your pregnant bride.
"What, does everyone already know?" Ned grimaced.
- What did you expect? The whole base knows. It was a great performance. Wait, the colonel will call you too. Did you really impregnate her and leave her? Look, the townspeople really don't like that kind of thing. You could get a reprimand from the command.
- What's the penalty for? Isn't it my personal business which girl I sleep with?
- On the one hand, yes, when it comes to whores. But when it's the daughter of respectable citizens and you seduced her, and God forbid, raped her - then watch out. Each case will be dealt with separately. Well, if you didn't drag the girl into the bushes and rape her, no one will hand you over to the city authorities, however, if you raped her - also. They'll hang you here. Or beat you with sticks. But... the colonel doesn't need a scandal - the townspeople will write to the king, the capital will send a commission, and they'll start sorting things out. They'll gnaw the colonel's head, and he'll gnaw ours. Do we need that? In short - think, figure it out. I don't know what's going on with you and the girl, but it's better if the city authorities don't interfere. That's it, we're done with your business, now off to duty. So, you have a company under your command. She is part of a full company - two companies, one hundred and fifty fighters each. A full company is commanded by a lieutenant, yours is Lieutenant Shusard. He was sent the other day - straight out of college. A young guy, a little older than you, conceited, from the nobility of the first class. That is, the lowest class. He has a lot of pride, but little land and respect at court. He is always trying to assert himself, to show that he is not such a blockhead as one might think.
"Can you even think about it?" Ned chuckled.
"We can," Drancon nodded seriously. "Shusard is a young fool. But you shouldn't tell him about it."
- Tell me, how many classes of nobles are there in total?
- Don't you know? Oh gods, what kind of hole did you come from? Twelve classes. The highest is the twelfth. These are the king and his blood relatives - princes and princesses, brothers and sisters. Most likely, you will only see them from afar, unless, of course, you get into the bodyguards or personal guard of the king - they see the twelfth class every day. Although - without much joy, as far as I know. Sometimes it is better to face the enemy in direct combat than to look at ... Hmm ... but you do not need that, - Drancon frowned. - Let's go introduce the new commander to his company. By the way, do you have a whistle? Aha. Whistle to formation. Remember the signal?
"Company, stand!" Ned stood next to Drancon, looking into the faces of those he would have to stand next to in battle. However, these faces were not visible behind the protruding cheekpieces of their helmets.
"Come on, command, Sergeant," Drancon whispered, "I'm not interfering. I'm leaving. This is your company now."
"Upstart! The colonel's pet! Look how they make a career!" Ned heard the thoughts of his former comrades and remembered Drankon's words about how he would have no friends now.
Turning off other people's thoughts, Ned looked around the line of soldiers and said loudly:
– Guys, I am your commander now. Whether you like it or not. And it is up to us how we will fight. We will soon go to war, so let's try to make sure that we do not get killed for as long as possible. Don't forget – you have a five-year contract. And you need to live through these five years. I warn you – I will mercilessly punish those who do not want to stay alive. Dying is his personal business. But he stands in the line, and the lives of the rest depend on him. Without him, the line will weaken. So, now we will run – thirty laps. Then we divide the company in half – into first and second numbers, and begin to practice fighting in small groups. After lunch – one-on-one fights and hand-to-hand combat without weapons. So, line up, s-r-r-r-r-r! On command, follow me, run… march!
Ned ran at the head of the line, and all one hundred and fifty of them followed him. They rattled their armor, their weapons, everything that could be rattled. The sound of clanking metal was already ingrained in their blood and flesh. Long after they had left the army, they would hear the clatter and clank, and the whistle of a merciless sergeant… if they lived to see their discharge, that is.
Ned also donned his armor, strapped on his sword, dagger - everything a sergeant was supposed to have. The morning sun was already beginning to warm, and soon thick salty beads of sweat began to flow from under his helmet... And there were still thirty long, very long laps ahead.
* * *
In the morning he did not wake Sanda, leaving her sleeping in bed. Ned woke up as if someone had pushed him in the shoulder, somehow immediately - now he was sleeping and now he is not sleeping. Habit. The army habit of waking up a few minutes before the wake-up call.
His head was heavy and cloudy, but a bucket of ice water had knocked the sleep and lethargy out of him. The old ladies in the big house were probably asleep too. Why were they getting up so early? It was Ned who needed to be at the base before the morning wake-up call, not them.
Time was measured here either by a sundial or a huge hourglass, but some very rich people had mechanical watches, made to order. They cost more than the same weight of gold. At the base, special people assigned to the hourglass turned it over as soon as the last grain of sand fell down. The "run" of this watch was enough for four hours. They were constantly checked by the sundial. At the base, the time was determined quite accurately, and each turn of the watch was marked by the striking of a bell - many townspeople kept track of the time by the bell of the building, which could be heard from all corners of the city.
Having gathered himself, Ned grabbed a couple of pies from the table, quickly munched them, looking at the girl who was tossing and turning in her sleep, and shook his head sadly - how could he have allowed himself to be seduced? After all, he knew there would be problems. No, what was he supposed to do when a naked, beautiful girl he was in love with climbed into his bed?!
Ned had realized that he was in love back when they were sitting in the tavern. She both repelled him with her overly eccentric manners, but also attracted him – with her beauty, her cheerfulness, and… who knows what attracts you to an object of the opposite sex if you love him? People don't love for something, they love because they love. So Selera wanted to play such a joke, to pierce hearts with love – and she did it. And who can resist a goddess? Only not Ned…
Covering Sanda with a sheet and fighting the urge to kiss her goodbye, Ned walked out into the yard, closing the door tightly behind him.
He was caught already at the gate, when Ned was struggling with the tricky bolt - you had to first pull the bolt towards yourself, and only then would it move to the side.
"How did you sleep?" he heard Zadara's slightly mocking voice.
The woman stood there fully dressed, as if she were going out on the town. It looked as if she hadn't gone to bed at all.
"I slept well," Ned replied, glancing sideways at the old woman's cunning eyes.
- And her? - Zadara winked.
- To whom? - Ned pretended not to understand. - Excuse me, I have to run already! It's wake-up time soon!
"Don't feign innocence. I can't stand it when people lie." Zadara lightly slapped Ned on the head with her folded fan. He realized it was a fan when she unfolded it and began waving it languidly, as if it were not the cool of the morning, but the heat of the day.
- You can't hide anything from us! - the woman shook her head reproachfully. - Quickly tell me who she is and where she came from. I have a vague suspicion that you're in trouble.
"Were you peeping through the windows or something?" Ned chuckled. "How did you find out?"
- What business is it of yours? Maybe they were spying. Tell me! The girl is definitely not a whore, you can tell at first glance. Her clothes are wrong. And you can tell by her that she is not a prostitute, you can usually tell them right away. That means she is the daughter of one of the respectable townspeople. And they really don't like it when their daughters sleep with soldiers. Unless, of course, they are married to soldiers. That means – expect guests. Should I wait?
"Wait…" Ned sighed and briefly told the woman everything he considered necessary about his relationship with Sanda.
- A virgin? Oh my... - The woman pursed her lips and blew, as if blowing away dust. - That means her daddy and a crowd of all sorts of relatives will soon be here. What are you going to do? In general, what are you going to do with her, with this... Sanda? I don't mean bedtime and your positions, - the old woman added calmly, - I mean your future together.
- What future do we have together? - Ned sighed, shrugging his shoulders. - None. They'll either kill me or send me to the capital, and she'll stay here. That's all.
- Hmm... we must hope for the best, - Zadara calmly objected. - Maybe they won't kill us. Let's think about what to do when a crowd of people comes here with the city guard. Apparently, they will accuse you of kidnapping and seducing their daughter. They will file a complaint with the colonel, and maybe even with the king. Well, well... we need to think about how to get out of this.
- What's the point of trying to wriggle out of it? She's over fourteen, and I read in a book that girls can legally get married at fourteen. And no parental consent is required. She came here herself. I didn't drag her. What can they accuse me of?
- That you bewitched her, that she is stupid, that you seduced her and will abandon her. And if they manage to force the girl to say that you raped her, then it will be a real disaster. You could end up in court. Okay. Let's not make any hasty moves for now. I need to talk to the girl - find out what she wants. And understand what to expect from her. Tell me, if you have to go to the temple of Selera and declare yourself husband and wife, will you do it?
- What's the point? - Ned asked, stunned. - I have nothing, I'm a beggar! I could get killed in the war, and what kind of husband would I be?! I can't even imagine myself as a family man - and what if I have a child?! Then what?
- You should have thought about it before sticking your... hmm... inside her. Anyway, I'll talk to her. And you get ready to put on your wedding wreath if you don't want any trouble. Get ready to meet your fiancée's parents. Idiot! If you hadn't touched her, her virginity would have remained intact, she could have been examined and they would have said: all the accusations are lies, no one touched her, she was and remains a girl. And now what? That's it, run to your stupid base, and Aunt Zadara will think about how to get you out of the hole you've driven yourself into. By the way, if you hadn't kissed her then, none of this would have happened! Why did you give the girl hope?! Oh, where are my seventeen years... - the old woman winked sadly, - I envy her. That's it, get out of here! Go and shake your iron things!
* * *
"So you're the sergeant of the first company?" The young lieutenant looked Ned over carefully and motioned for him to sit at his desk. "Why were you absent from the base?"
"I was on leave. On the occasion of being promoted to sergeant," Ned explained dryly.
- I heard that you are the colonel's protégé. Well, I don't give a damn about that! - The lieutenant's face became arrogant and contemptuous. - I know that you are a peasant who doesn't understand anything about military affairs. It's sad that they entrusted you with a company. I wouldn't have entrusted you with it. And anyway, so you know - I am against peasants holding officer positions. You, commoners, simply don't have the brains for it. You will listen to what I tell you, understand? If you don't carry out an order, you will be brought to trial.
The lieutenant popped a piece of flatbread into his mouth and turned away from Ned, as if to indicate that the conversation was over. Ned stood up:
- Can I go?
- Go, Sergeant. And remember what I said!
Ned turned and walked between the tables out of the officers' mess. His heart was heavy. It seemed that his future service would not be a piece of cake.
Ned retreated into the shade of a tree, sat down on a bench by the fence, and closed his eyes, thinking about what lay ahead. He saw nothing good. The thought of going to officer school with blockheads like Shusard was depressing. Ned wanted to go and talk to Oydar and Arnot, but they were with the company soldiers and he didn't want to talk to them in front of his comrades. And they didn't come up to him. Maybe they were tired, or maybe they had some grudges - in any case, he was sitting alone, as Drancon had once predicted.
- Sergeant Ned Black! - came the voice of the colonel's adjutant. - Colonel Haverad urgently! Calling! Now, run!
Ned looked at the lieutenant, sighed, and, getting up from the bench, dragged himself after the adjutant, his gaze fixed on his back.
The lieutenant was clean and well-groomed, he hadn't had to run thirty laps around the base in full combat gear today. Ned reeked of sweat a mile away, his chain mail, pants, shirt - everything was soaked in acrid sweat. Ned didn't take off his armor during lunch, so he walked around shiny like an iron man. And smelly like a stray dog.
There was no time to undress - first Ned had lunch, then the new commander called him to tell him what a piece of shit Ned was, then... he simply didn't have time. And it was for the best - dragging all this harness in his hands to the colonel would have been awkward and stupid, and going to leave it for safekeeping with the storekeeper would have been even stupider.
I thought - I need to get my own little closet here to store my service things. At least for lunch. Other sergeants had these, you just need to go to the office and get a paper to allocate personal storage in the general warehouse.
With these dull and mundane thoughts Ned dragged himself to Corps Headquarters and walked down the echoing corridor to the Colonel's office. The lieutenant motioned for him to wait, and Ned was left standing before the oak doors under the quick shots of the curious eyes of the office rats.
Just as he was about to probe the clerks' thoughts to find out why he had been called, the door opened and the lieutenant looked out and ordered:
- Come in, Sergeant!
Ned stepped over the threshold of the office and froze – there, besides Colonel Heverad, were five other people: a middle-aged man and woman, well dressed, in new, good clothes, a stocky man of about forty-five in a formal suit with a large badge of a civil servant on his chest, and two men of about thirty-five to forty, on whose chests hung the insignia of the city guard. It seemed that they were detectives or investigators – Ned did not really understand who was who.
"Sergeant Ned the Black, reporting for duty!" Ned saluted, standing at attention. "Awaiting your orders, Colonel!"
The silence in the office was so great that one could hear a fly, sadly and persistently beating against the glass of the office in the hope of freeing itself and flying away to freedom. In this, Ned's desires were akin to the desires of the fly. He already understood what he was about to hear.
- There he is, the rapist! - the woman said angrily and, standing up, shouted from her seat: - Where did you put our daughter, you scoundrel?! Speak up! Arrest him!
"No one will be arrested on the premises without my permission," the colonel said coldly, looking straight at the detectives who had risen from their seats. "We'll figure this out and then make a decision. No need to get excited. I know Sergeant Ned Cherny as one of our best officers, an honest and decent guy. What you've told me here is most likely not true. Ned, explain what's going on with their daughter and what connection do you have with her disappearance? Do you know where she is now?"
"At my house," Ned said in a low voice.
- There! There! He seduced the girl, took her away, probably raped her, and now he keeps her in his house! Arrest him! - The woman was beside herself with rage.
The man, probably her husband and Sanda's father, tried to stop his wife, but she continued to scream, threatening to write to the king himself, that she had a cousin in the service, that she was of noble lineage, ancient, older than the colonel's, and that she would not let the matter go. At last she calmed down and, breathing heavily, sank back into her seat, looking at Ned as if he were a vile rat trying to get at his master's cheese.
The colonel looked at Ned, who had turned pale, grimaced slightly, and drummed his fingers on the table top, saying:
- Let's begin the interrogation now according to all the rules. Lieutenant, take the minutes. We'll write everything down so that there are no allegories later. The accusation of kidnapping, rape - this is too serious to simply leave the matter unattended. If our sergeant is guilty, Mr. Burgomaster, he will be held accountable according to the laws of the kingdom. If he was slandered, the one who defamed his honor will be punished.
- How do we know that he is telling the truth?
- And who's stopping us from checking his words? - the colonel shrugged. - Lieutenant, invite the Chief of Security too. Let him be present. It's his business. Let's wait, gentlemen. As soon as Major Sert arrives, we'll begin.