Ash-Colored Despair (2)
He cocked his head to the side. Damaged feelings failed from time to time.
After waiting for the buzzing in his ears to subside, he stepped inside the tent, walking around the woman.
It looked like they were burning herbs here again at night - the smell of smoke lingered persistently in the dark, dim room. But another one was woven into it - strange, like an overripe fruit. It was an unusual smell that at some point began to emanate from this girl’s skin.
He held his breath, then inhaled slowly. And he called quietly:
- Thalia.
There was no answer, but he felt her presence.
He stepped into the chaotic space, strewn with dishes, bottles and goblets, and looked around uneasily. And suddenly he stopped: a pile of clothes was piled up near the huddled bed.
He leaned towards a large chest that stood in the corner of the tent.
Having opened the lid, I saw a small body inside, huddled into a tight lump.
The body again responded with a strange pain, as if a hoof had hit me in the gut.
He restrained the whirlwind that had risen inside him and carefully placed his hand on her shoulder.
The girl, trembling all over and burying her face in her knees, raised her head. From under wet eyelashes bright blue eyes appeared - clean, without a single impurity. Like a living creature from the abyss of the sea, clear tears spread across her transparent skin.
Он обхватил её влажные щёки и осмотрел слегка покрасневший подбородок, затем слегка откинул назад опущенную голову.
Several scratches were visible on her thin neck, as if she had been injured somewhere.
Он всмотрелся в них, и тут меж приоткрытых, налитых кровью губ прорвался сдавленный всхлип:
- Monsters... did you defeat them all?
He looked into her eyes again.
The pupils, like irises drowned in a blue sea, swayed anxiously.
He remembered the day he first saw those eyes.
В тот день, когда к нему вернулось цветоощущение, это был первый оттенок, который он различил.
A lump came to my throat. He took a deep breath and forced his body, numb and frozen, to move again.
Her flexible, soft arms wrapped around his neck without a word. A weak, broken sob wet the tense skin.
“I thought they were going to drag me away again.”
Longboat squeezed the arms that wrapped around her body.
This won't happen again.
The phrase, stuck on the tip of the tongue, slipped back into the throat.
From that day on, he began to swallow words more and more often when standing in front of her.
Swallowed and unspoken, they settled inside, layer by layer, like sediment at the bottom.
Wincing from the unpleasant feeling of a stone pressing on her insides, he gently ran his hand along her narrow back, which shuddered from time to time.
Её тело, до этого напряжённое, постепенно расслабилось и мягко прильнуло к его груди.
He slightly moved his head, which was resting on his shoulder, and looked into his face - his eyelids were lowered, his eyes were tired, as if exhausted to the point of exhaustion.
Running his thumb over her golden, wet eyelashes, he straightened her constantly slipping body and quickly looked around the tent.
There was a cloak hanging against the wall. He grabbed it, threw it over the woman and went outside.
As he crossed the camp at a brisk pace, several horsemen dismantling tents cast curious glances at him.
He pulled the cape up until it completely covered her.
These men looked at her with hungry glances from the time when her height barely reached five khvets (about 150 cm). And she... was afraid of them, and yet more than once came out to them defenseless, as if... As if she was ready to be torn apart.
He quickened his pace, as if wanting to shake off the annoying glances.
As he laid her down on the bed in his tent, he noticed how thin she had become over the months.
There was a lump in my throat.
What was annoying was this: her exhaustion only emphasized her strange, frightening beauty.
Thin neck, angular shoulders, protruding collarbones - the gaze slid over them involuntarily. And Barkas abruptly moved him to the side towards the entrance to the tent.
A servant boy stood at the threshold, looking at her furtively.
As if someone had pricked him with a needle, he felt his dampened nerves flare up sharply.
The longboat dismissed all the servants and tightly closed the entrance curtain. This was not the best idea - the entire tent was instantly filled with its sweetish smell.
My throat felt sore from a strange, burning thirst. He swallowed.
His fingers suddenly buried himself in his still-damp bangs, and his irritated gaze darted to the side. Her pale cheeks, stained with tears, appeared before her eyes.
The words that she once exhaled in horror surfaced in her memory:
“He... he said it himself... it’s like he’s obsessed... he can’t stop... he can’t stop looking...”
He squeezed the soft tissue of his cheek with his teeth from the inside, feeling the slight taste of blood.
He tapped his temple with his finger and reached for the cloak that was lying in the corner. When I came out, the sharp smell of blood hit my lungs.
He inhaled it deeply, as if trying to quell the sticky, sickening heaviness in his throat.
At that moment, Barakan, already dressed in armor, approached him.
- Almost everything is ready. All that remains is to remove your tent. Would you like to start?
- In one hour.
After a pause, Barkas added hoarsely:
- First, let's give people a break.
A satisfied grin flashed on Barakan's lips.
- As you order.
He immediately turned around to give instructions.
The longboat sat down on a box and stared at the plain that flashed between the palisade of trees.
The dry wind whipped him sharply across the face.
A familiar smell filled the air - but where had he smelled it before?
Trying to pull it out of his foggy memories, he heard a wolf howl in the distance.
He turned his head.
The melancholy sound slowly spread from the very edge of the forest.
* * *
Her weakened body could not withstand the long journey - a fever began.
Talia lay staring at the shaking ceiling, breathing heavily.
Although the carriage moved no faster than a walking pace, even this shaking felt like torture to her.
Squeezing her throbbing head, she rolled onto her side with effort.
Suddenly, a sharp horn sounded from outside.
Have they really arrived? She slowly got up and looked out the window.
In his hot, inflamed eyes an unfamiliar landscape spread out - a wide plain.
She opened her eyes in amazement. The deep emerald grass stretched endlessly to the horizon, as if it was about to touch the sky.
The wind blew through this living greenery, whipping up and spreading the grass in waves.
Talia opened the window and exposed her face to the hot air rushing across the ground.
- This is Kalmore.
The unexpected voice made her flinch. She turned around - a man was riding next to the carriage.
He pulled on the reins slightly, urging the horse closer.
- My name is Tyrone. We've met before... do you remember?
She silently looked at him with wariness, her lips pressed tightly together.
His smile faded a little.
He looked at her face carefully and spoke softly:
- You seem to be very weak.
-...
“We’ll get to Raedgo’s castle soon.” Do you see those walls over there?
He pointed forward.
Thalia followed his hand - on the horizon, the fortress wall was gray, as if molded from ash and sand.
She craned her neck, trying to get a better look.
Raedgo Castle looked like a pile of giant boulders piled on top of each other.
Thick, unadorned walls tightly encircled the foot of the hill, and above them rose stone towers and bastions - straight, angular, without grace.
Talia involuntarily wrapped her arms around her neck.
Perhaps because it was here that she was to live, a strange trembling seized her and a chill ran down her spine.