Ash-colored Despair (8)
He crossed the dense green meadows, experiencing a strange sensation, as if he was setting foot on this land for the first time. On a gently rising hill, dozens of well-fed mares and foals were peacefully nibbling grass.
“More than a hundred foals were born on this pasture farm this year. “All of them are purebred descendants of the legendary Norneck horses,” explained Daren Dru Siekan, who calmly followed him, with undisguised pride.
Longboat turned to the man with a straightforward and slightly stubborn expression on his face:
- How many trained war horses do we have?
“There are three thousand of them in this pasture alone.” If we count together the northern pastures, it will be about six thousand three hundred.
- Less than I heard.
After his remark, the man’s face visibly flushed red.
“Young master, you were in the central lands.” It’s almost impossible to convey all the little things, except for regular reports,” he muttered, looking away. “A month ago, Zram nomads attacked one of the horse pastures in the northeastern part, and it suffered heavy losses. Later, in retaliatory skirmishes, we lost many serviceable war horses.
Longboat frowned.
“Why wasn’t this reported to the imperial court?”
- We managed it ourselves. Why was there a need to disturb the capital? — the man shrugged his shoulders indifferently. — The Grand Duke always said: the problems of the East should be solved by the people of the East. The vassals agree with this.
“The East is also part of the Roem Empire,” Barkas calmly objected. “We are also subjects of the empire.” And just as the East serves the emperor, the emperor is obliged to protect the eastern lands.
The man pursed his lips. The word “protection” caused him instinctive rejection. The Kang warriors, with their heightened self-awareness, considered external help to be humiliation.
Instead of trying to convince him, Longboat directed his horse towards the village that lay at the bottom of the hill.
Most residents outside the fortress walls lived much poorer than those living in town. Proof of this were the poor, rickety houses stretching along the washed-out dirt road.
He glanced at them indifferently, but something suddenly caught his attention. Narrowing his eyes, Longboat directed his horse towards the central square. There, from a huge tree, there was something suspended.
Approaching closer, he distinguished the outlines of three bodies. They died long ago: a painful bluish rot lay on their skin, and rough loops of ropes were wrapped around their necks.
“Looks like recently executed heretics,” Daren muttered with a wrinkle on the bridge of his nose.
Longboat glanced at him:
— Is heresy spreading in Kalmora?
“You yourself know, sir, that among our people there are many who have never given up their old beliefs.” Some still worship spirits as gods or indulge in superstitions,” the man sighed heavily. — Lately, denunciations of heretics have become especially frequent. Probably due to frequent skirmishes with the Zram tribes. After all, every single one of them are ardent spiritual worshipers. The disgust towards heresy grew so much that unauthorized religious courts began in the villages.
“In recent years everything has fallen into disrepair...
A shadow of discontent appeared on the man's face. He smiled tightly and shrugged his powerful shoulders:
“What can you do, the Grand Duke has been chained to his bed for too long.”
Longboat looked thoughtfully at the hanging bodies, then nodded briefly to his men:
“If you leave them, there is a high chance that they will become ghouls [1]. Remove them and perform a simplified burial ceremony.
The rider raised his thick eyebrows:
- Heretics?
Longboat looked at him coldly:
- Should I repeat it?
Daren carefully looked at his face for several seconds, then sharply turned to the knights standing in a row:
- Why are you standing there? Follow the master's orders immediately!
The men immediately dismounted and began to cut the ropes on which the bodies were hanging.
With a dull thud, the corpses fell heavily onto the damp ground.
Longboat silently looked at one of them - his head was unnaturally turned to the side, as if his neck had been broken in the fall. Worms swarmed in the empty sockets, from which the eyeballs had been torn out, and a toothless mouth gaped behind the cut lips. They even had their teeth knocked out - as required to prevent them from turning into ghouls.
Bodies that were not purified had a high chance of becoming undead. Therefore, heretics’ eyes, teeth and even nails were always removed in advance.
"Waste of energy..."
Ghouls could easily use tools, relying on the memories of their previous life. If they really wanted to prevent trouble, they should either burn the corpses to ashes or conduct a full-fledged ritual.
He turned his gaze to the soldiers who were dragging three bodies to the far corner of the wasteland, then looked around at the village men who were crowding on the edge of the square in old, shabby clothes. Most looked scared, but some had displeasure on their faces.
He pointed a finger at one of them:
- You. Call the priest quickly.
The marked man reluctantly walked towards the chapel at the edge of the village.
Soon the priest appeared and hastily performed a short ritual of purification.
The longboat silently watched everything that was happening, after which he gave a short order to bury the bodies in a suitable place and directed his horse to the exit from the village.
Here, on the edge of a wide road, his gaze caught an abandoned wooden figurine. A statue of a three-headed dog... no, more like a wolf. A roughly hewn, split image lay right on the path leading into the Argand forest.
A clear sign of a curse.
Daren noticed this only now; his face immediately turned pale, he shouted loudly to the soldiers:
- Remove immediately!
Longboat calmly looked at the mutilated figurine, then turned his gaze to the village.
Apparently, this thing was planted on purpose, taking advantage of their arrival. There was clearly hostility in someone's actions.
He grinned at the corner of his mouth.
“It seems that there are those who did not like my return...”
Whether they were heretics, steeped in superstition, or supporters of anti-imperial sentiments, he did not know. But it became clear: there would be no quiet life here.
— Search the village in search of the culprits? — Daren inquired, studying his reaction.
The longboat pulled on the reins with a slight movement and shook his head:
- Leave it. If we make a fuss over some figure, it will only make us a laughing stock.
The man nodded silently, holding back a heavy sigh:
- You're probably right...
But his gaze was still prickly, as if he was mentally thinking about gathering soldiers and carrying out reprisals.
Even in a short time, Longboat realized that he was particularly distinguished by his fighting spirit, even among the horsemen.
He felt a strange fatigue fall on his shoulders and spurred his horse.
When they returned to Raedgo's fortress, the sun was already setting.
The longboat jumped off his horse, handed the reins to the groom and crossed the spacious parade ground.
As soon as he entered the main building, the valet in charge of the servants ran out to him in a hurry:
“Welcome back, young master.”
The longboat accepted the greeting with a nod and, without slowing down, climbed the stairs.
The man quickly followed:
“Many lords from the surrounding lands have come to meet you, lord.”
Longboat frowned and turned around:
- Lords?
“Vassals from the southeastern lands,” he answered cautiously. “Looks like they arrived early to pay respects before the heritage ceremony.”
Longboat, involuntarily running his glove across his chin, went up again, throwing over his shoulder:
- Prepare a feast for the guests. I'll change my clothes and join them.
- I...
He was already heading towards the chambers on the second floor when the servant spoke hesitantly again. Longboat glanced over his shoulder.
He hesitated and said timidly:
“Will... the lady be able to attend the evening feast?” Still, she will become the mistress of this house... It will be good if she gets to know the family and servants. Many people are curious about her. And she doesn’t leave her bedroom for days on end...
“Valet,” Barkas interrupted him quietly. “Do you really think that Her Highness should go out to my relatives and servants to satisfy their curiosity, despite her health?”
The color instantly disappeared from the servant's face. Longboat added coldly:
“Her Highness suffered a serious injury just a few months ago. She still hasn’t recovered, and then there’s this grueling multi-week journey. Now she needs peace, not idle chores. Tell everyone not to bother her over trifles.
Note:
1. Ghouls (or ghouls) are the living dead who retain some of their intelligence, but are obsessed with the thirst for flesh or revenge.