Читать книгу Elinor. The Deserted Valley. Book 1 - Mikhail Shelkov - Страница 6

“Midnight. The beginning of the sixteenth day of the month of the Wolf, the year 531, era IV…”

As an ancestral researcher, I start the diary before the beginning of my journey. I would like to write “the Great Journey,” but can’t know in advance how it will turn out. I can only know how I feel about myself.

About myself.

My name is Jumanna Inaiya Khaniya Amatt. I am a descendant of an ancient and noble family.

The Amatt clan became famous throughout Elinor during the construction of the cities of Min-Mirif and Til-Mirif. The construction was supervised by one of my glorious ancestors, a great engineer and thinker, Mirif Amatt. Built at the very end of the Third Era, Min-Mirif became the southernmost city of the Valley, denoting its southern boundary. Further away, the endless desert of the Djunitian began. The riches of the mines near where my ancestor built the cities were truly inexhaustible. Gold, silver, semi-precious stones, iron ore for the best, most solid steel… Soft metals, meanwhile, were useful on farms, and clean flint could be taken from the earth with bare hands.

The cities were quickly populated by people, and on the outskirts of Min-Mirif, in the shadows of majestic palms and sycamores, on the shores of ponds with water of extraordinary blueness, grew the Amatt estate.

When I was six, I visited my family estate. As soon as I was old enough to leave home, my father took me on my very first trip. My birthday was celebrated on a grand scale, but the day itself I cannot remember – I remember only that I yearned to begin the journey! Despite my age, the road was my strongest passion, and there was nothing I could do about it.

My dear mother, the noble Khaniya Haliya Mufa, by marriage an Amatt, the granddaughter of the izir Doyno-Kash Kharun Mufa, was distinguished by her strict views, moral purity, and undoubtful placement of the family above all else. She believed I could leave home, though only to go to school at the Academy of Kay-Samiluf; and this school was but two blocks away from our house! I did not want this… I wanted to see the desert, the endless expanse. I wanted to see caravans, people of other nations, other cities and faraway lands… Mum tried to hold me back until the very end, but I knew she would give in eventually.

Despite her strictness, her weakness was my father, Umar Amatt, who had recently become the leader of the Old Pages Clan. Mother’s love for Father knew no bounds; she could not oppose him. And my father could not refuse me, as he saw my passionate interest in everything new and everything unusual. I was growing up much too like him… dreamy, windy, and thirsty for discovery.

So, my first trip was to Min-Mirif. At the end of the day, the Great Desert impressed me, but much less than the ancestral estate. What is the desert? Delight is present only at first, when you realize that there is only you and your caravan surrounded by the sand, the sky, and the horizon line between them. I watched this landscape one day, then another, and it didn’t change. Yellow-reddish barchans, endless dunes, plain blue sky without a single cloud and the white circle of the scorching sun. My interest quickly died away as I sat in a small armchair on the hump of a huge camel under a velvet canopy, drinking cool water and fanning myself.

And then one night I could not sleep. I left the tent once I thought my father was asleep (as it turned out, he did not sleep and had seen everything), and found myself under the black dome of the night sky, dotted with countless glowing stars. It was the most beautiful thing I had seen in my life! Many years have passed, but I still can’t forget how, even though I was a clever, albeit young, child, I stood right before the cosmic abyss, as the distant, delightful stars seemed to wink at me.

And the Amatt estate… Oh! It seemed to me a city within a city! Of course, Min-Mirif itself seemed boring to me after Kay-Samiluf. But the ancestral nest Mirif Amatt had clearly been built with great enthusiasm and inspiration, with greenhouses full of flowers and fruit trees from all over the continent, fountains spurting beyond the roof of the mansion, halls with statues and columns. The underground part of the estate turned out to be several times larger than the mansion itself. There was everything – cabinets, a library, an alchemy laboratory, even a secret passageway to the mine. The underground halls were entirely decorated with precious metals and gems found in the local mines… I squealed with delight when night fell on Min-Mirif and my father guided me into the observatory tower and taught me to position myself on the map of the starry sky.

I had many teachers in my life. My father hired the best ones so I would receive a good education. But he taught me astronomy himself because he didn’t entrust it to anyone else. It was a little strange… Umar Amatt had gained fame as an explorer and writer. Other learned scholars taught me literature and history… But astronomy – only my father!

Yes, obviously, he saw me that night when I left the sleeping tent, so small and defenseless before the whole universe.

I did enroll into the high school of the Kay-Samiluf Academy and graduate with honors. My enrollment happened when I was twelve. Before that, I spent six years on a family estate. The best sages of the Valley came to teach me the basics of science. But the best teacher remained my father… I am grateful to him for his lessons on astronomy, but the most valuable lessons were those about life, which, maybe, my father gave me without even knowing it.

The Old Pages Clan had its own museum in the mansion of Amatt. There was a collection of rare peculiar things, which were brought from different corners of Elinor, that I hadn’t even seen in the Kay-Samiluf Academy museum. Many relics emitted special energy; I felt it. My father didn’t, but he believed me. He said that people react to special energy and magic differently.

Indeed, our scientists agree on the idea that this energy exists, but none of them can explain its origin. Even if some of the alchemists managed to equip objects with magical abilities, it only happened by the experimental method or by the long arm of coincidence. There is no scientific theory about obtaining this special energy. The Mechanicum (Tuasmatus) do not reveal their secrets to anyone. But our scientists aren’t sure that the force with which many of their mechanisms work is the same magic that, say, the Ancestral Stone and other antiquities emit. I believe that special energy, controlled by the Mechanicum, is more explicable by science than the special energy of the First Race.

Azir Amunjadee wrote in his works that the secret of special energy was mastered by the Ulutau – mastered through self-knowledge and self-improvement. But is this the same inexplicable energy that I’m talking about? The whole world still questions the role of special energy (magic) in the bodily transformations of the Vedichs. If, of course, those transformations are true…

But I do feel magic! I know it…

I constantly asked my father to take me to The Stone of the Ancestors in the Valley. But he always flatly refused… Father, who had only ever encouraged my curiosity, refused me! He said that I wasn’t old enough for the Valley.

It seems he considered traveling through the desert, where there was a small, but still existing probability of meeting a scorpio-angler or dragon, less dangerous than living in the Valley. My father had always spoken of the Valley reverently and thus had only aroused my imagination further, but at the same time refused! Perhaps that’s why I still think about the Valley with some apprehension, but nonetheless with admiration also.

I traveled a lot, indeed! After all, I already mentioned this is the greatest passion of my life, and it is impossible to satisfy a great passion! I visited the Golden Ruins twice… I visited the outskirts of the Nanol-Mo forest. I saw the powerful Taurs and their settlements made of logs in the middle of forest glades. And for my twelfth birthday, before entering high school, my father gave me a gift – he took me to Bandabaze! Yes, to the largest city of the Guawars!

From the port of Chail, on the light and high-speed ship “Lightning”, we arrived in Bandabaze in four days! Four days! A caravan of camels from Kay-Samiluf to Min-Mirif sometimes takes up to two months. And here – four days! And then we spent another week on a ship from Bandabaze to Doyno-Kash. Incredible! To this day, my mother doesn’t know that I’ve been to Bandabaze… My father and I agreed not to tell her. If she knew, then probably in a fit of anger she would have killed both of us. I’m exaggerating, of course. Mother is kind. It’s just that the Guawars are looked upon as dirty robbers and pirates.

My father still preferred a trip to Bandabaze to a journey to Valley. Why? I don’t believe the Valley markets are more dangerous than Bandabaze!

By the way, the Guawars do seem wild and scary at first. Especially for those brought up in the noble Djunits families. But I had traveled enough to understand the beauty of these sea people. And I fell in love with the sea! It was then that I decided that, one day, I would sail away on the Guawarian ship to the east… To the Edge of the World!

I thought Kay-Samiluf was a noisy city, and no other will surpass it. I was mistaken! The buzz of commercial areas, complemented by music from taverns and street chants, cannot be drowned out, even if you stuff your ears with Ayno-Sufic cotton wool. Your nostrils are always tickled with the sugary smells of fruit and hot spices, which are mixed with the aromas of fried fish and the stink of foul fish. To the rhythm of the Guawarian gulps, tamed beasts tingle from all-around – screeching monkeys, small fluffy tics, and huge talking parrots shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow.

In the middle of the city, opposite the Royal Bay, towers the palace of the Governor of Bandabaze. The palace of our izir is a yellow-golden hue like the sandy djunes. On the contrary, the Guawarian Governor’s one is snow white! A snow white palace, with azure sea and evergreen forests all around.

Thank you, Father! I will never forget that journey! It was the best birthday of my life!

My father and I returned to Kay-Samiluf from the port of Doyno-Kash. And since then, I haven’t seen him… Father went to the Valley. Later he visited the caravan in the Shohan, the capital of the Ito Empire, and the kingdom of Reyro, a Tuasmatus abode. He was going to visit the Vedichian.. Oh, he would have definitely discerned their secrets.

He wrote and wrote about his travels… About the fact that he visited the reception of the Emperor himself, that he saw the golems in the Mechanicum (and, by the way, didn’t feel any magic) and rode mammoths, the huge shaggy elephants of the north. Meanwhile I dissolved into melancholy in the stuffy walls of my school in Kay-Samiluf. I dreamed that one day, I would go on a new fascinating journey.

My father didn’t make an appearance in Kay-Samiluf. At first, this upset mother greatly, and then she became angry with him. Day and night, all she did was berate him. I was sad too, but I didn’t reproach my father. I was melancholic, lonely without him, but I knew that if he hadn’t returned in so long, it meant he was on the path of a very important discovery. I was eager to graduate from school and join my father as quickly as possible; I could not wait to join the Old Pages Clan myself.

I have an older brother, Khasim Umar Amatt. His full patrimonial name includes the first name of father; mine is from mother… Perhaps this is a mistake – whilst I’m exactly like father in everything, Khasim is a copy of our mother. Home means the world to him!

Khasim is a sand dragon hunter. A fine hunter! Though he is young, he already has a high rank. Khasim is a noble man and a mighty warrior. He has a harsh temper, same as mother’s, but I know that he loves me. Now I know.

Hunting dragons is an ancient and honorable craft. It emerged in the time of the first Djunits, and it was the Marawie Sand Lion himself who proclaimed dragon hunting as part of the military doctrine. In ancient times, it was difficult to even call it hunting; rather, it was a struggle for survival. Having arrived in the desert, the settlers faced a great misfortune in the form of these vile, treacherous creatures. And even Marawie fell in battle against the sand dragons. But his people stood firm. Scorpio-anglers and dragons have not attacked the city for a long time. And, thanks to such hunters as Khasim, these creatures are less and less likely to attack commercial caravans. On large paths, at least, they haven’t been seen in a long time.

I turned eighteen the day after I graduated from high school. On my birthday, I was waiting for a message from my father… not such a gift as a trip to Bandabaze, of course, but at least some note. I entered the age of maturity and now I could go anywhere by myself, on any trip. But I wanted to see my father.

The year passed by and there was no news from him.

My birthday was coming to an end, and I was sitting alone in my room, crying. I was more alone than ever. My mum and brother… I felt their love, but I couldn’t trust them as I trusted my father.

Khasim entered the room. He asked why I was crying. I stayed quiet. After all, it was so obvious! He was silent for a long time. Then asked one more question, “What can I do for you? I don’t want you to cry…”

“What can you do for me, brother… " I replied with a sigh.

He stood above me, very still for a long time, which irritated me. I wanted to snap at him, scream. I’m glad I restrained myself. Now I can imagine what inner conflict he was going through!

“Get ready!” he finally told me. It was an order. “We are leaving at dawn!”

“Where to?” I was a little taken aback.

“I’ll show you how they hunt sand dragons…”

Oh, Khasim! How could I ever have expected such a thing from him? I jumped off my bed, rushed to him, and hugged him tightly. Throughout my eighteen years, I had never been close to my brother. And he, as it turns out, had always understood me. For some reason, he hadn’t shown it. Is it that stiffness is a sign of noble families?

It turned out that Khasim wasn’t a total copy of our mother after all. Father’s adventurism flowed in his veins, even though it manifested in a very peculiar way.

“And not a word to mother!” Khasim added. But it was needless, I understood everything perfectly myself.

When, in childhood, my brother made comments like, “Do not go there!”, “Stop fidgeting!”, “Be modest!”, “Speak quietly!” I was very annoyed. I did the exact opposite just to spite him. But that day, I listened to every single word of his.

He left me on the furthest barchan. Two tall warriors were assigned by him to protect me. What if a lonely dragon flew in our direction?

My brother divided his troop into three groups: left flank, center, and right flank. Naturally, he himself stood in the center. Behind him stood archers and spear throwers. These were the tactics of fighting monsters used for centuries, I knew that from history lessons.

Khasim led the soldiers to a sandy hill, where he expected a dragon’s lair. The soldiers carefully moved their feet along the sandy surface, almost gliding.

At any time, the flock could break out from under the ground, and then the solid surface would turn into a deadly funnel. That was how Marawie sunk into oblivion, having fallen through the quicksand into the dragon’s cave, and that is how hundreds of thousands of soldiers ended their lives…

A long spear whistled through the air and buried itself in the hillside. The sand began to fall off the slopes at once and soon a hole of the size of a human formed in the hill. Khasim was not mistaken – it was a lair!

Literally in the same moment, a scary head appeared out of the black hole, and then an ugly dragon’s body. A small spear dart, thrown by a warrior from the rear rows, pierced the dragon in the mouth. The first one had been dealt with!

Khasim suddenly gave the command to retreat, pointing his hand back. Again, the experienced commander predicted the situation. The hill quickly began to sink into the depths of the desert, the sand began to pour into the empty space, and new dragons came out from the smaller sandy mounds.

The first to close the formation were the warriors of the left flank. They shielded themselves, pointing forward long spears, and pressing the monsters back.

I could already count forty dragons in the pack.

First, they looked puzzled, but then, all of a sudden, in a wave, they rushed toward the soldiers. All three groups were attacked. The warriors covered their heads with shields and sat on one knee.

I knew that my brother was waiting, luring the dragons into a trap, trying to convince them of their own victory. But I stood still, on top of the barchan, dumb with fear. It was only in that moment that I understood what a great danger my brother had been exposing himself to all these years. For a night, a brother with whom I had never been able to find a Common Language, became so close and dear to me.

Two of my guards continued to stand quietly, all this time remaining unperturbed, as though watching an auction in a square, and not a deadly battle.

Suddenly, Khasim and two loyal fighters broke out of formation. With a sharp twist, they rolled under a flock of dragons hovering over the troop and rushed towards the biggest. This one was almost black in color, while the rest ranged in shades from muddy-green to the color of beige sand. The leader, I realized. One fighter clung to the tail of the dragon, the second pulled on a clawed rear paw. At that moment, Khasim jumped as high as he could, and struck the shell of the leader with the tip of his sword. After a wild yelp, it collapsed into the sand. My brother jumped to him and severed his head with one swift stroke.

It is difficult to convey into words what happened next, as wild confusion arose in the pack. The soldiers began spearing the dragons with their lances. The creatures didn’t even try to rise higher into the air, as though they had immediately agreed to the carnage. Their dead carcasses kept falling and falling. The fighters only had to dodge them.

In a few minutes the flight of dragons was killed off…

I ran from the barchan, stumbling over the motionless sand waves, my feet tangling. I wanted to hug my brother as quickly as possible.

Never again did I ask him to take me on a hunt. I longed for adventure, but that day I realized I could not stand and watch someone dear fight between life and death. I just couldn’t. Perhaps my mother still thinks that hunting for sand dragons is just a hunt, akin to hunting a deer or antelope… Let her continue to think so! She does not need to know the truth!

Since then, I’ve become different… quieter, calmer. How the life of a little girl could be changed by one sleepless night in the desert!

Khasim got married and moved to Ayno-Suf with his family. Now he teaches young fighters and rarely goes hunting himself.

In the meantime, I turned twenty-four. Mum began incessantly talking about how I should have a husband and a family. I listened to her calmly, protesting silently…

And, suddenly, a letter! From father!

My father spent several years with the Vedichs and was now returning with a “heap of discoveries”, he wrote.

Mum was angry. She already resigned herself to the fact that father was not around; considered him not as someone deceased, but gone forever. She learned to live without him. I understood that she was so angry only because she loved him… I also loved him madly, but it was a different kind of love, without demanding anything in return. I was jumping with happiness! The separation, which had lasted thirteen years, was about to end.

My father wrote from the Valley. He had to run several errands within his clan. This meant that in two months he should be in Kay-Samiluf… and if he boarded a ship through Doyno-Kash, then it would be even sooner!

A happy month of waiting had passed. I already imagined how I would join the Old Pages Clan, how I would again begin to travel with my father, being not a burden to him, but an astronomer! Again, I would see Bandabaze and Nanol-Mo. I might visit Reyro and the prairies of Chekatta. And finally, I would see the Valley with the Ancestral Stone.

On one truly dreary, rainy day, an envoy from the north arrived to Kay-Samiluf. The man was incredibly weak from the long road, but even more so he was frightened.

“The Valley is deserted!” He declared.

“What do you mean deserted? Completely?” The questions poured in.

“Completely” was the answer.

Whether it happened in an instant or in a week, no one knew. The fact is that the newly arrived caravanners found no one in the Valley. Empty houses, untouched belongings, markets full of goods, shops, and taverns – everything stood completely abandoned. The people disappeared!

In Kay-Samiluf, the council of the Academy and the izirs of free cities was held. It was decided to send numerous caravans to settle the Valley again. I told my mother that the Academy appointed me as an astronomer in a large caravan and that I couldn’t refuse. I lied,… it’s easier for a woman astronomer to join a Guawarian naval crew. In the desert, a woman astronomer, especially such a young one, isn’t welcome!

But there was no way for me not go to the Valley. I knew that if I just sat in Kay-Samiluf and waited for news from my father or about my father, I’d go mad. Besides, it’s hard for me to write about this, but a premonition arose in my chest that he would not be coming back. For thirteen years, I knew he was somewhere on the road, on his eternal search. But suddenly I felt that he was no longer… it’s hard to explain.

My intuition had never let me down before; it is why I was so anxious.

I met with Khasim and asked him to return to Kay-Samiluf with his whole family to look after our mother. He is a man, so duty called on him to help his people. Going to the Valley was both an adventure and a life gamble, and Khasim treasured his home. Adventures, as I wrote before, were somewhat different in his understanding. War with the dragons was his duty. I, on the other hand, eagerly awaited this hour. Everyone should get what one aspires to. Khasim understood me. We parted very emotionally as I promised to write him regularly; to him and mother. To mum – what was necessary to say, to him – only the truth.

I’ll keep my promise.

Mum, if you ever read my diary, then… please forgive me. I’ve always despised lies. And even more so I think that it is lowly lying to such a dear person. But telling you the truth would have made you suffer… And I didn’t want that.

Once again, the road was calling!

I didn’t join the caravan as an astronomer, but I was taken in as a teacher instead; more accurately, as a caretaker. I would accompany a group of students of the Academy’s high school to Konolwar’s school.

This was their first caravan journey – their first way through the sands. Mainly these were the children of merchants and shopkeepers. There were also the children of scientists and representatives of the academy. Their parents traveled to the Valley with the first caravans, each motivated by their own goal. All of them were surely well-off, or they had risked everything for the sake of a new life in the Valley, for not everyone could pay for a well-equipped caravan with security.

And then there was the protection of the Academy! In truth, the Academy shifted its protective duties onto my shoulders. But it was my duty. Nobody forced me to do this. That meant I was responsible for my students with my head and with my heart – Not just for their parents, first and foremost, for my own conscience!

If I had any authority at all, I would forbid children from going to the Valley. No one knew why it emptied and where its people disappeared to.

Lamis helps me, although she is from a poor family and still almost a child at the age of eighteen. She recently graduated from the high school and entered the Medical Faculty of the Academy so for her, accompanying these students is a chance to earn money for her further education.

For me, crossing the desert had long since become equivalent to a walk. True, I had not travelled with caravans in a long time, but once committed to this journey, I felt good again.

With only the longing to see my father eating at my heart, all I knew was I had twenty-two students to take care of and bring to the school of Konolwar in good health and good spirits.

I will help the children of the Academy to endure the burdens of camp life. In two months, we will be at Konolwar!

And after that I will go to Min-Mirif… to the Amatt Estate…”