Читать книгу The Dragon's Vow or the Stubborn Bride - - Страница 3

There were a dozen Travel Bureau stations in Verlor, the capital of the Onyx Rocks, but I had to leave from the same one where I had once arrived with my father. The journey to it from the guesthouse took about forty minutes, and while we were driving, it began to get dark. Reacting to the deepening twilight, bright magic lanterns began to blink on the streets, flooding the area with a cozy, warm light. I admired the beautiful houses of wealthy capital city residents and the majestic building of the theater, which made an indelible impression on me – I had the opportunity to visit there once with other students.

Sitting in the gig driven by the silent Batmore, I gazed at the noble Eshsheri leisurely strolling in the autumn park with their smart daughters and husbands. At the carriages rushing past. On thoroughbred, well-trained horses with equally thoroughbred riders. To tastefully decorated shop windows. For fountains that don’t freeze even in winter. She looked and smiled involuntarily, sincerely enjoying every moment.

Eh! Still, there are advantages in the life of a magician! Did I think, running around the castle courtyard with the boys, that this would happen to me? That one day I will be able to travel alone without parental supervision?

As we moved away from the center, the houses became darker in appearance. Their narrow dark windows did not please with bright light and pretty curtains, but frightened with bars and iron shutters – the industrial quarter had begun. Buildings of factories and factories stretched out, where magic and craft were intertwined, producing metal products known throughout Balaria: from rune swords to cart wheel rims. From magical jewelry forging to ordinary scythes and sickles. Only at the boarding school did I learn what an important place my native land occupies in the world. How many inventors and scientists are born, and how rich in metals and jewels its depths are, the guardians of which from time immemorial were the ruling families of onyx dragons.

Having passed industrial areas, we found ourselves in residential ones. There were also shops and shops here, but with simpler display windows. Dim lights were burning in the windows, and the shadows of residents preparing dinner flickered. A rollicking melody came from some tavern, and the bright magic lanterns had long since been replaced by dim lanterns that gave off a deathly green color. Because of him, the faces of people rushing from work seemed especially sallow, and a staggering drunkard could easily be mistaken for a zombie.

And in some alleys there was no lighting at all. A noisy group tumbled out of one of these straight onto the roadway, frightening our horse. The driver had to use an air wave to gently push the revelers to the side of the road. Drunken swearing followed, but the phlegmatic Bathmore silently whipped the reins, urging the brown filly on.

My father and I passed these places in the morning, and then they did not look so dangerous. Feeling uncomfortable, I hid deeper into the phaeton and, just in case, grabbed the handle of the bag, regretting that I was not traveling in a carriage, but in an open carriage. There was only a short distance to the station—three or four blocks—when I felt a magical tension in the atmosphere. The hairs on my arms stood up and a specific chill ran down my back. Wary, I turned my head, looking around the street with an unfocused gaze. I was still incapable of doing more, but this simple technique allowed me to see exactly where magic was used.

– Stop! Stop! – I shouted to the driver, but Bathmore was already pulling on the reins.

He managed a moment before a man was thrown out of a nearby alley by the horse's feet, mercilessly slamming onto the pavement.

The air wave at the end reflected from the wall of the building opposite, scattering dust, small debris and dry leaves on the sides. Screaming in fear, I stared wide-eyed at the body that Batmore was trying to avoid. But the filly neighed and fought, not wanting to go further. Meanwhile, the tension of magic intensified. Ahead of us, drifting snow ran from building to building, swirling in the uncertain light of the streetlights like thick steam. Along the line she drew, a real palisade of thick icicles grew. Do not go around or jump over!

Following the driver's quick glance back, I realized that the same fence blocked our way back.

– What’s going on today! – Batmore could not stand it and tried to take it to the left so as not to run over the victim with his wheel.

And I suddenly wondered if I had ever heard his voice before?

“Batmore, is this man… dead?” – she asked quietly, unable to take her eyes off the person lying on the road.

“If he’s a magician, he’ll survive,” the driver tried to reassure me, but he didn’t do a very good job.

– We must help!

I stood up, intending to jump out, but I was stopped by a sudden shout, like the crack of a whip:

– Sit, eshsheri! We don't want any trouble, and the guards will deal with the tramp.

Bathmore pulled on the reins, causing the filly to back up a little. Just a few steps. The gig turned out to be opposite the alley on the other side of the street, but even a fleeting glance made it clear that it was impossible to get through there. The passage was cluttered with some rubbish. So we managed to fall into a trap! If we had driven a little faster, we would have managed to get past…

At the end of the street, from behind the squat houses, the dark silhouette of a gas tank was clearly visible. The large round building in which PR was accumulated, and from there it was used to heat houses and illuminate streets, impressed me even on the day of my arrival. It was located right next to the station. Maybe run to it on foot and ask for help there?

I pulled the bag closer. I can, I can run. Maybe…

But while she was deciding to get out of the gig, which was creating a false impression of security, a group of men appeared from a nearby alley. They were in no hurry, they walked imposingly, laughing and talking. There was no doubt that everything that was happening was their doing.

There were six men, and all were definitely magicians. Not paying much attention to us, they imposingly surrounded the unfortunate man, who lay motionless on the pavement. One of the magicians lit a firefly, illuminating a small space above their heads, and I was surprised to realize that they were all young guys, hardly much older than me.

“Mikael, it seems you’ve gone too far,” stated one, blond and rosy-cheeked, the spitting image of “mom’s little pie,” reproachfully.

– I do not like it! Let's get out of here! – whined another, short and the frailest of all.

I agreed with him, and I myself would gladly follow this advice.

– Splinter, you always don’t like something! Better shut up! – a tall and dark-haired magician, who was named Mikael, barked at him. He poked the victim with the toe of his boot. – Hey, stop being a fool! Get up and start apologizing! I'm waiting!

The man on the pavement moved, and I mentally exhaled. Still not dead!

The scoundrels, and these scumbags could not be called otherwise, began to chatter animatedly in anticipation of entertainment. I couldn’t resist and grabbed the driver’s elbow:

– Bathmore, do something, eh!

– No, eshsheri! My life is dear to me, and these murderers… Ahem! “He glanced sideways at me and corrected himself. – These people are the offspring of noble families in the capital. It's better for us not to shine at all. Maybe they won't pay attention to us.

This was the longest tirade I heard today from the driver of the Teresa the Magnanimous boarding house.

– But that’s not possible! “I objected hesitantly, not taking my eyes off the people on the road.

The bully Mikael bent down and grabbed the victim by the hair, thick dark with contrasting light strands. Their owner suddenly jumped up quickly, simultaneously squeezing the bully's throat and lifting him up at arm's length. So much so that your feet left the ground!

I even stood up in my seat, surprised by such agility and strength.

“Do you want me to apologize to you, morel?” Me, the daughter of Jarl Hedwin from the Coast of Sharp Blades?!

The voice was low, but definitely female!

The stranger stood in profile towards me, and despite the male attire, the features of the female figure stood out clearly from the front. Such decent features, I must say! It's a girl! There could be no mistake. Tall and strong, slightly taller than the bully whose legs dangled helplessly above the ground, she held Mikael by the throat with apparent ease. The guy convulsively clung to her hand and wheezed, trying to free himself.

Judging by what I managed to hear, this strong woman was a northerner and compatriot of Audbjorn Strike, one of the brothers-in-law of my half-sister’s husband. I don’t know why Earl Hedwin’s daughter annoyed these guys so much, but what they did went beyond what was permitted.

– Bathmore! Bathmore! We must help her out! – I became worried, not imagining what I could do against six magicians.

– Eshsheri, calm down, I beg you! – hissed the driver, not wanting to interfere in the squabbles of the rich youth.

Meanwhile, the hooligans, taken aback by such agility of their recent victim, regained their composure.

– Let go of Mikael! – the one called Splinter squealed.

And the most powerful and broad-shouldered of them all suddenly growled and rushed into the fight. I screamed in surprise, believing that he would now trample the northern woman, who was still more fragile than this closet with mezzanines. But the stranger was faster. Throwing the Tuffnut away so that he crashed backwards onto the pavement, she twisted and met the Brute with a direct kick to the head. He, as if hit by a battering ram, silently fell on his back, and three of them attacked the northern woman at once. Subtle Splinter did not participate in the fight, he only caused a fuss by shouting:

– Blood! You're bleeding! – he yelled, staring at the stunned big man.

He was already getting up, pressing his hands to his broken face and looking unkindly towards the fighters.

– Shut up! “He slapped the screamer on the back of the head, and he choked on his next tirade.

Before I decided to do anything, the northern woman scattered the trio, but it wasn’t easy for her. She was breathing heavily and taking care of her left side, and the Big Man, crimson with rage, was already approaching her. The others also pulled themselves up, wincing and rubbing their bruised areas. It would seem that it was time to escape while there was still at least some chance, but the northern woman did not even think about making a move.

– Where is my backpack, pregnant penguins! – she went on the offensive.

The girl was confident in herself and did not seem to be at all afraid of this pack!

The bully made a sign, stopping his henchmen, and asked arrogantly:

– Do you even know who I am?

– Unfortunately. – The girl winced in disgust. “You’re a thief, an idiot, and a bad fighter.” Shame on your father, in general. It will be a miracle if he doesn’t drown in shame when he finds out who your mother’s womb gave birth to.

Well, the stranger really knew how to infuriate.

– How dare you! – Tuffnut hissed, but instead of attacking, on the contrary, he began to retreat.

His comrades did the same, as if they knew in advance what was about to happen. It's clear as day that something is wrong!

– No no! Mika, don't! – Splinter squeaked, but the thug, whose broken nose was dripping blood directly onto his expensive jacket, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck with one hand and dragged him to the wall of the building.

Bathmore did the same, pulling me back into the gig.

– Where, you fool! Sit! – he hissed.

– But…

– Quiet!

The bully extended his hand, fingers spread, and shouted just one word. The ether tensed, and the next moment lightning struck from the sky, deafening with a dry crack and blinding. I screamed, covering myself with my bag, but even through tightly clenched eyelids I saw lightning strike one after another, all over the street and the walls of the houses!

Above us, the absorber shield hummed strainedly, which by some miracle managed to deploy Batmore. The driver himself, no longer embarrassed, hissed dirty curses through his teeth, interspersing them with prayers to the Mother of All That Is. And it seems that she heard him, because the shield withstood the blow. When it was all over and I risked opening my eyes, the girl was lying on the pavement again. The magical firefly was destroyed when lightning struck the area. The windows went out in the houses whose residents were disturbed by unexpected disputes between the nobility.

At a distance, the PR lantern that had somehow miraculously survived was still shining, and the thin wisps of smoke emanating from the girl’s clothes seemed especially ominous in its greenish light.

–You killed her! Killed! – Splinter was the first to break the reigning silence, but he was forced to shut up with a short blow to the nose.

All participants in the incident looked scared and confused, but did not yet take their eyes off the northern woman’s body lying on the ground. Entertainment turned into a real crime, and Batmore and I turned out to be witnesses, and very soon they will pay attention to us…

“Mika, this time you definitely overdid it…” noticed the rather pale “mom’s little pie.”

“We should get rid of… her quickly,” one of the guys suggested.

I couldn’t make out who it was, but I was amazed by the fact that they were so calmly discussing how to hide the crime!

“Batmore…” I breathed out.

At that moment the girl moved again and tried to get up. The whole company recoiled from her, as if from a dead man who had risen without the participation of a necromancer. The guys looked at each other, and something unkind was reflected in their eyes, and I realized: the game had gone too far. With trembling fingers, I felt in my pocket the artifact given by Grymza and threw the chain around my neck, and then, praying to the goddess that it would work as it should, I jumped out of the gig, and this time Bathmore did not have time to stop me.

– Well, stop! – she barked, trying to speak as low as possible.

My throat was dry from fear, successfully adding the hoarseness that was naturally lacking.

All the magicians frowned at me. Under their heavy, unprincipled gazes, I was at a loss, not knowing how to behave further. The same Splinter came to the rescue.

– Oh no! This is Grymza! We're finished! – he screamed nasally because of his broken nose.

“The artifact worked!” – I mentally exhaled.

The image of the strict director of the boarding school, terrifying both the pupils and the staff, was the first thing that came to my mind. Having made sure that everything worked out, and the hooligans see an elderly, strict woman instead of me, I poised myself, raised my chin higher and, squeezing my lips into a tight line, looked around at the guys with a dissatisfied look, focusing on the leader.

– And from you, Mikael, I didn’t expect this! “I’ll have to have a serious conversation with your father,” she said, carefully copying the mournful intonations of the headmistress and she was surprised at how much like Grymza I managed to do.

The pale brunette, whose whole appearance hinted that he had overdone it with the lightning and was now suffering from magical exhaustion, completely turned red. His eyes flashed lightning. True, this time only figuratively.

“Eshsheri…” He opened his mouth.

– Be silent! – I barked and winced with displeasure, not wanting to enter into controversy. If there's any chatter, I'll be found out right away, so I can't give them that opportunity. – Go away! And pray that the girl survives! – I commanded.

The hooligan really didn’t like what was happening. Maybe they would even risk getting rid of Grymza, who appeared on their way at such an inopportune time, but behind me stood the gloomy Batmore. And three corpses are not two for you anymore! There were too many witnesses to the failed entertainment.

An ordinary candle lit up in one of the windows right above us, and a man looking out asked in a drunken voice:

– … ... What … is … happening here … your … ...?

The meaning of the tirade thickly mixed with obscenities, it seems, did not immediately reach the hooligans, but at least they were distracted. The man was immediately dragged deeper into the room by a woman, whose frightened voice tried to persuade her husband not to interfere. He growled in response, but still retreated from the window.

The number of witnesses to the crime instantly increased to five. And how many other dark windows watched the street secretly?

The criminals also understood this, so they became increasingly gloomy, but did nothing. Taking advantage of the pause, I sat down next to the northern woman.

– Hurry up, get up! – she asked in a whisper, offering the girl her shoulder.

Butmore fussed over and grabbed her by the elbow, trying to lead her to the gig.

– I won’t go anywhere without my things! They stole them! “She was in no hurry to get away from the place of potential death.

– Nobody stole anything from you! Just wanted to joke! Who knew that you were completely bruised! – Mom’s Pie lost his nerves.

He was the first of all to arrive and, grabbing Mikael by the arm, tried to lead him into the alley.

– Return everything safe and sound, otherwise the ruler will know about your trick. I'll take care of it! – I threatened, carefully dragging the northern woman in the opposite direction. – Things should be sent…

I looked expressively at the victim.

“To the Academy of Wind and Storms,” she muttered reluctantly.

– To the Academy of Wind and Storms. Clear? – I echoed. “And if I find out that anything is missing or damaged…” without saying anything, I arched my eyebrow meaningfully.

More precisely, I imagined how Grymza does it. I couldn’t do that well myself.

Mikael hesitated, nodded and finally allowed himself to be led away.

Considering the conversation over, I led the northern woman to the gig. She walked not too willingly and did not take her frowning, promising gaze off the backs of the would-be killers disappearing into a dark alley, but she did not provoke them again. She probably decided that it was better to disperse peacefully this time than to continue the obviously losing confrontation.

Once we were in the wagon, Bathmore breathed more freely. Jumping onto the box, he lashed with the reins, and we were pressed into the seat. The ice fence ahead was broken by the same lightning, and its fragments had already melted considerably. Having released an air wave, the driver scattered the remains, clearing the passage, and drove the horse to the station.

– Thank you, eshsheri. But you shouldn’t have taken such risks at your age,” the northern woman expressed her gratitude ambiguously as we drove around the block.

She sat hunched over and winced from time to time when the gig bounced on potholes. The road closer to the station turned out to be completely broken.

“Eshsheri Blackrock, I will have to report to the Ashsheri director about your prank,” Bathmore suddenly said and unexpectedly added: “But you’ve done well.” I don’t know how it all would have ended otherwise.

“Thank you,” I thanked him for the praise and pulled the pendant from my neck.

His hands were shaking like a never-dry drunk. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and the taste of iron appeared in his mouth. It seems that not everything is so simple with this artifact. A full mask sucked out magic faster than maintaining an air funnel, and yet my potential is not below average! No wonder Grymza talked about warts and wrinkles. From now on, you should be careful and not use complete images of other people, only small details.

– So, you’re not an old lady! – the northern woman was sincerely surprised.

She even straightened up, but immediately bent over again, wincing in pain.

I smiled welcomingly, looking at my new acquaintance, and answered:

– No. I am just a future adept at the Academy of Wind and Storms. So that's where you're headed?