Today is the brightest night the Knight Masod has ever seen, standing at the farthest outpost of Vayelon. After feeding his horse, he quickly went to the tent to hide from the beginning of the downpour. A strong wind has risen. The catapults standing in the field rolled towards the fire and almost caught fire. The horses whinnied in fright. Two thousand people, already on alert for the second week, on the southern border of the Osiris, tirelessly watch the rugged terrain of Rohvem. Grabbing an earthenware pot, the guardsman began to have supper, quickly eating flour cakes with berry filling. The comrades sat closely with each other, telling different stories. Suddenly, outside there were the shouts of the guards. Everybody out! Faster, faster! Under construction, under construction! Stand in front of your tents! General Mandalis has arrived!
Whats happening? Does the general show up in the middle of the night, in such terrible weather, without warning? Masod goggled eyes, barely chewing on another pie. He carefully pulled back the curtain, peering through the small window of his tent. «Move your ass, guy,» his comrades hurried out into the street. There was complete confusion. It was not just his retinue who came with the general. With him came an army of at least five thousand people in full combat readiness.
Roll up camp, prepare your horses and sharpen your arrows! shouts the commander of the outpost. By the decision of the council, in a day, we move forward to capture Fimirel and liberate the Osirian villages.
Delight appeared in Masods confused eyes. Under a raging downpour, in the middle of the night, for the first time he felt the greatness of the army gathered here, and his irreplaceable, great role in the fate of an entire people. Gaining strength, the warriors, as it should, slept for the last time. In the morning, two knights gathering brushwood in the vicinity of the camp noticed movements in the distant bushes and reeds, a swampy peat land.
Hey you, stop!! Shouted one of the soldiers to a black, human silhouette, moving behind the tall grass. Come here, or Ill come to you myself! he unbuttoned the cover and took out his blade, with a decoratively curved blade and a chopping handle. «Wait, dont get excited,» his partner stopped him, grabbing his shoulder. «Its just an old priest. He doesnt hear you. He picks berries, I guess. Leave the poor man. How do you know that this is a priest? he was indignant, pushing his friend aside. «Maybe the spy from Fimirel changed his clothes. We are obliged to check, having run up to the very hummock, surrounded by impassable thickets, they have not found anyone. At the same moment, screams were heard from the camp. «Its begun,» the soldier muttered to himself. What started? his partner is perplexed. Savages, attacked again. Acadian and Sumerian tribes, admirers of ancient traditions, along with the Nahmau, consider these lands cursed. During the time that we are here, they have already persuaded us three times to get out of here, in response our commander only laughed. The turn has come to answer for our stubbornness, with a smile, he twisted his long spear and ran towards the screams.
The battle unfolded. Hundreds of wild hunters, calling themselves «blackheads,» hunted down the generals troops that had come that night. Reinforcements came to the Sumerians from the north. They are superstitious Acadians with three leaders at their head. The Osiris, organized a tactful defense, under the command of General Mandalis himself, who is also a member of the council of the wisest in Vayelon. The victory was won with minimal losses, however, this event disrupted all the plans of the command. Having sent messengers to the city, with the news of an immediate offensive, the general did not wait for the coming of night. An impressive army of seven thousand people at that time, crossed the borders of Rohvem and moved in the direction of Fimirel. Black silhouettes, again crawling in the reeds. When the soldiers directed their arrows at them, warning of an attack, they were frightened and jumped out of the nasty, seething quagmire.
«You cant get through here,» one of them creaks in a hideous voice with a terrible accent. It was Sabarets. A representative of an almost completely extinct ancient people. They were called Sabars by Osiris. This word means «transparent heads», which was true. They are so different from other people that their organisms do not coincide with the general human DNA. The processes on the coccyx, which they can even wiggle, indicate the presence of full-fledged, albeit short, tails. With blisters and black abscesses all over his face, he was certainly not a priest of the great temple. These creatures worship their unseen gods. The Sabarian people are not aggressive, but disgusting. Selfish and rebellious. Even the greatest kings of Mesopotamia could not conquer them. The longer you look at these people, the more you get the impression that they are not people at all, but some other, peculiar kind of mammals. Bald, wrinkled heads, with transparent skulls, seem eerie, twisted in shape. And their terrible wrinkles. They, like protruding fatty discs, run like a ladder across the entire face and neck, merging with the chin. Completely blue eyes, without pupil and eyesore, with which they perceive not all colors. But, these are not freaks. These are their genes. Burns and blisters, of course, are not from birth. These are various diseases and scars from their difficult lifestyle. In long, dirty shirts and village bast shoes, six fornicators bowed before the Osiris, promising to help them. But, is it worth believing these geeks, when it has already been historically proven that they completely lack the instinct of self-preservation. «Oh, great commander,» they began to communicate with the general. «You shouldnt go through these swamps. No wonder the blackheads are so alarmed. We also lost a lot of our brothers there. Be so kind as to go around this strip of evil from the east. Just ten kilometers from here.
Dont worry, buddy, our troops are already going that way, as well as from the western direction. Or did you think we would only strike with one group of troops? «If we were savages like you, we might have done so. But, we know things like strategy. Here, take the money, and get out of my way, he threw a tied bag of coins at the feet of the elderly Sabarians, and the column moved forward. Having overcome a small ditch and a bog, the soldiers figured out a passage in an ancient wall lined with stones, which was completely covered with moss. This wall stretches for tens of kilometers, from the eastern to the western forests of Rohvem. The primitive masonry is not at all high. Two meters, and in some places even lower. They say that once it was three times higher, it just sank into the swampy soil.
As far as I know, this wall was built for some religious reason. Riding a horse, the commander of the outpost unhurriedly gallops next to the generals carriage, sheathed in camouflage. He, silently, smiled, and thoughtfully stared at the horizon. Before them was an endless field. The green grass was not so damp and tall anymore. The ride has become much easier and faster. The ground is more replaced by stones, with rarely sticking out blades of grass. But there are no ravines or hillocks. Absolutely flat field, on which you can already gallop. The foot of the infantryman stumbled on a snag sticking out of the ground. This is a broken, through and through rotten wooden log, which has been lying here, perhaps, for more than one hundred years. Throwing it aside, the soldier cleared the way for the carriages passing by behind. It must have been some kind of signpost before. There, to the side, a couple of meters away from the log, lay an inconspicuous flat stone heaped on its side. On it, in the Nahmaut language, only three words are carved: «The forest that does not exist.» Without changing the route and speed of movement, the convoy continues to go south. The grass and leaves underfoot are already completely dry. As if it had never rained here in my life. Jumping out of his capsule-shaped iron carriage, Mandelis suddenly stopped the troops. Holding the map firmly in both hands, he peered into one place. His hands shook.