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Sergey Solovyov

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The way to the Wunderland and Heartland. Immortals.

There is much in the world, my friend Horatio, that our sages never dreamed of

Shakespeare,” Hamlet”

PROLOGUE

Above all: be true to yourself.

William Shakespeare

The monk Victorius made his way through dense branches of bushes and dense coppice, along a path punched among the dark forest. He tried to carefully step over sharp branches, fallen trees. The monk carefully, trying not to tear off the moss from the trunk lying on the ground, hardly crossed it, holding his hands on the huge branches. The bird shouted, and he squatted down, waiting for danger. If necessary, I looked around, it was necessary, hid among the branches. There was nothing to be ashamed of, it was only necessary to survive, and fulfill the mission. His head became only a compass for hands and feet, for what he had to commit. The mind cleared, there was no more fear and trembling in the hands and feet. He delivered himself into the hands of God and had to fulfill his destiny and cleanse the earth of fear and filth. Yesterday I asked myself: “Why am I, Lord?” But today I realized that God has no other warriors, and only he can, and will stand here for God’s truth. But, he should not die ahead of time, but simply had to reach this hidden place…

True, he remembered with gratitude that he had sent a suite. The hand, or rather, the left hand, covered with a cortex, was cured. That source, shown by a big secret by a mansi hunter, really turned out to be miraculous. For two days he washed his hand with that water, and the skin was cleansed, with the blessing of the Lord. But, the hunter warned:

“You can’t drink that water, you’ll die. This water is only good to heal wounds, but not for drinking”

The traveler offered a prayer of thanks to Heaven, which was not forgotten by either the Virgin Mary or St. Martin in these distant lands. And he was given healing, for courage, honesty and loyalty to his word.

The monk listened to every cod of the twig, to the quietest rustle of leaves. I was very afraid of the chase, although I poured a sleepy potion at the meal to the owners of the estate. When he left, he waited a long time for everyone to fall asleep. Even the dog fell asleep in his booth, otherwise he would definitely have followed him. And then the tailed one would definitely give it away. Now the monk’s throat was dry again, and he reached for a flask of water. He took out the cork and took just one sip. Water followed to protect, and Victorius knew it. But now, the night bird shouted again, and the monk stopped again. Caution was not superfluous.

So he got up, and froze, becoming like a pillar next to a tree, to which he pressed himself. He had to walk, he just has to… Here, I noticed how an alarmed squirrel screamed along the trunk. It helped him that he saw in the dark like a gray owl. No one knew about his ability, only the father of the abbot of the old monastery, Father Julian…

***

He recalled that place that now seemed so distant — predestined, just beautiful.. This island of Margit, with an incredibly beautiful Gothic church. There, as the monk recalled, it was warm even in winter, we can say that it is warmer than here in summer… And everything would be fine if King Lajos the Great did not want to find out about the ancestral home of the Magyars… Where was the First Magyarok? That, the Great Country of Hungarians, the country of songs and legends? Victorius stood now before his father the abbot, reading out the message of their king:

…“I command you, Julian, to send a monk from your monastery so that he can know for certain where our Motherland, our ancient Dentumoger, is located. The land about which there are only legends, and inescapable longing and sadness in the heart of every Hungarian. Here and money, I send two hundred gold coins, and letters so that my messenger would be greeted with honor…”

— You see, my son… You know Russian, Turkish and Latin well. You know medicine, and you can feed yourself on a long and difficult road. Young, smart and strong, and you can withstand the hardships of a dangerous path. Your journey will begin in Poland, then you will reach Danzig, and on the ship you will reach the Royal City, Riga. (Rika, Rikka- kingdom, kingdom in Scandinavian languages. Sverige, Svearike — translated by the Kingdom of the Swedes). Dі, you will reach Novograd, and you will go to the distant Ugra Land. There you will look for Dentumoger.

— I will try to fulfill what I have to, my father, — and Victorius kissed the abbot’s hand.

He put his hands on the shoulders of a still young monk, looked into the eyes of the student for a long time, and quietly said:

— Remember the main thing, Victorius… And let you see in the dark, like a forest cat, but you are not a devilish spawn, but a beautiful God’s creation. After all, God decided so, and put this skill into you. Not a curse, namely skill, and it will help to survive in distant countries. I will expect your return… But, be ready for trials — after all, the history of the Hungarians is full of fear and horror, you yourself know our tales and legends. Take care of your soul, do not let it disappear in Darkness, because I am sending you to the land of Death.

— Thank you, Father Superior. I am ready for the feat, — and Victorius kissed the hands of the abbot.

Two monks held a mule loaded with packs under the bridle. And the monastery leaving with longing and hope looked at the walls covered with grapes, with already large, sharp, leaves.

“I will be able to return, I will definitely be able to return,” he simply ordered himself.

The monk was ardently and long baptized on the holy crucifix at the gates of the monastery. With his head down, he sat down in the saddle, and without turning around, sent the mule with a light trot along a dusty road.

***

Victorius straightened the floors of his felt jacket, or locally, an Armenian, and went on. This place was shown to him by the son of the owner of the Kushchi house, Sotr. Then his father broke his leg, and the monk straightened the bone, applied a sensible tourniquet and a tire made of a wooden die. A month later, the glorious hunter Kushcha could already safely walk along paths and forest paths, and almost did not limp. Then Sotr began to show the stranger some cherished places. But he said, so quietly, and at the same time confidently:

“Forbidden is a place, Vityai (as the locals called it, Mansi). There are also old people here, very old. Those who don’t die. There, further, beyond the pass, their hunting trail. They drive deer there. I saw, my dad saw it happen. This giant will catch up with his prey and tear off his head. They are immensely strong, much stronger than an ordinary person… But people are not touched, without need. Sometimes, however, the girl is taken away.”

Victorius then asked, just in case. The habit was such, and the abbot sent to these places to find out everything. The monk tried:

“And where are their secret sanctuaries, or just holy places? Who was the ruler here before you?”

The variety then sat for a long time by the fire, stirred the embers with a twig, looked at the monk through the tongues of flame, and began the story:

“Long ago it was, where how long ago… And the rules, and Kaltas-ekva herself rules these places, in Russian-Zlatogorka, or Zaryanitsa, and those immortal giants are her servants. But the time came, Zlatogorka fell asleep, froze, and hid her in a secret place. And now people call her nothing more than the Heart of the Earth, and in a dream she helps those who ask her. But you only need to ask good, from the bottom of your heart, then it will help. And there, Vityai, are forbidden places, thin, where her immortal servants sleep. Those who chose not to stay on the ground…”

Well, Victorius began to prepare. He knew that he had to do everything he planned in one night. It is good that the hunting capture of Kushcha was not far from the forbidden pass. And in the evening, the monk boiled a good potion, drank the owners, and so he was able to go to this place. Did you regret your cunning? No, I did not regret it. After all, he acted so for the sake of knowledge, which gives true power to the seeker. So he was instructed by the teacher Julian.

There was very little left to go, he noticed numerous failures on this plateau. Apparently, because of this, the area was called forbidden. It was necessary to go carefully, and carelessness led to death. Many hunters laid down their heads here.

Victorius took a break, put his staff on the ground, and began to unwind the rope. And before his eyes, as if live, there were images of those sailors, from the large nave “Old Goose.”

***

Now he remembered, the sea road, their ship, smelling of herring from the hold, to the pennant of a large mast. Their boat left the pier of the free imperial city of Rostock.

He searched at the wharf for a vessel ready to take him to Riga, the Royal City built by the Danes. Life was in full swing around him. Porters carried huge rolls of precious cloth, wrapped for protection in a gray canvas, large sealed jugs of wine, huge bundles of iron rods suitable for various jobs.

— Be careful, monk! Look, otherwise they will give your piety here! ‘one of the sailors laughed.

“So I am on business, my son,” said Victorius, although he was half the age of this man, “I must get to Riga, at the behest of my elder, Julian.”

“That’s how my ship is leaving today. There are only five silver coins, and we take you along the East Sea (Ostsee, the Germans called the Baltic Sea) to the lands of the Teutonic Order. And, for feeding, if you don’t eat a lot, then four more coppers a day!

— I studied to be a physician, — Victorius humbly said, lowering his eyes down, as a humble minister of the church should, — I also know good potions. Many masters instructed me. I can help you…

— Then you have only five coins, if you promise to treat my ragged people, on the ship “Old Goose.”

— I will be glad to help you, for the glory of the Lord…

And the monk is located on the ship, and with good comfort. Rested on bags of wool. True, the herring smell soaked through even the boards, and the habit was hard. And on the deck, even harder, to see how the lead surface of the sea rolls, slides, captivates their ship, and Victorius became ill again. He grabbed the side of the vessel with both hands, dangled his head down, and vomited. Yes, it’s so hard, as if he was all, from the inside, now rushing out.

On the road, one sailor severely tore his arm, and Victorius skillfully sewed up the wound, bandaged it. And it did not rot, fever did not fall on the unfortunate, everything came out of his honest prayer. Here the feeder himself was trying to settle the monk in his cabin, but Victorius did not want to leave the sailors with whom he managed to make friends.

Two days later, a caravan was to go from Riga to Pskov, to the Russian lands. The senior military guard of the city examined the monk’s letters, looked respectfully at the heavy seals.

— Drive, — the gray-bearded warrior said almost with obsequiousness, — there is a good tavern nearby, — the streets are blocked at night, so finish your business before sunset.

Victorius looked after the porter, who slowly drove his things on the wheelbarrow. The wooden wheel of this thing bounced and creaked on the cobblestone pavement, and the monk was afraid to death that now his two larks would fall into the ditch. This is the center of slops and all kinds of sewage, it stank mercilessly, and it was probably like the Acherontes and Kotsit of the ancient legegnd. At least this is what Victorius thought now, he even imposed the sign of the cross on himself.

“What is it, holy father?” said the porter.

“All is well, my son,” the monk reassured him.

Actually, the ditch was far away, three feet away, but still the monk imagined it very vividly. Victorius entered the house, where so seductively smelled of fried sausage and fresh bread. The monk crossed himself, put the money and took possession of such a warm rug. He just wanted to eat now incredibly.

Finally, the innkeeper took the new guest to his room, and Victorius whiled away the whole day not at all in prayer, but after eating, slept soundly under a warm blanket. I tried to sleep off, for a whole week of my sleepless journey by sea.

They stomped on land a week before the border, and then, in just two days, they reached the New City itself. The new hail struck the monk with wooden houses, and wooden pavement. And then, along the rivers, we got to Velikaya Perm. And here, Victorius was just crushed by the grandeur of these places. These mountains, winding rivers, deep forests. And, it is not clear where the treasures came from — an abundance of silver dishes. The price of these items was considerable, one dish would allow the whole family to feed for a year. And here, there were whole carts of this good, and this was not an exaggeration…

What seemed like myths, a legend, a fairy tale, was true, much worse than it is. In one village, Vityai, as Victorius was now called, spent the day waiting for a boat. I whiled away the day in front of a pot of berry boil, which his mistress was visiting. Not for that, but for a good deed, he managed to pull out an iron splinter from the hand of the owner of the house. I did everything as it should, washed it, poured it with bread wine, and then smeared it with honey and applied a clean bandage.

— Well, thank you foreigner, helped… And then, and the fever could fall on me, — thanked him strict Kudim.

— Where did the wife go? I said that nothing is needed…

— Will come soon, Vityai, don’t worry. Here, eat bread.

The monk poured himself more drink, and did not refuse bread. Who turns the nose from a good treat? And he himself was glad that he helped a good person, so it was good at heart.

— Come in, come in, Ulta, do not bother the house, — the hostess’s voice rang out and the door creaked, and the steps of another woman rang out.

— Alien here? — Words cut through the ears, but as if not a person spoke them.

Kudim jumped up, so that he almost knocked over the table. He grabbed the stick, but saw who entered, and dropped his club. He did not say a word, only hastily turned away, and jumped out of the room.

The monk was all tense, frightened in earnest. He reached for the knife, but still put his hands on the table, showing that he trusted the owners. This Ulta came in, and behind her was Leah, Kudim’s wife.

— Here he, Vityai, saved my husband. You help him, Ulta. Reveal what he should do? What’s his road?

The stranger looked hard at him, so his heart was frozen. Light and so it was not thick here, but now as if the shadows of a thick mass climbed to the table. The woman sighed, and said:

— As hiccups want… I’m out of my power.

She sat down, looked at him for a long time, then her head threw back, and the woman began to speak, now in a completely different voice:

— Handsome, hello. I waited, I did not know, you will come, you will not come! — and laughed so that Victorius’s teeth turned, — you will come, I know… You see in the dark, right?

At first, the woman’s speeches seemed ridiculous to Vityai, but as the fortuneteller said about noctolopia, then the monk’s goosebumps ran down his back. He smiled delicately.

— But don’t you dare destroy ours, or I’ll tear it up, so only your head will remain on the stake!” — and laughed again, — and so you will return alive to your monastery, to the island of Margit. And don’t grab the knife, but fear your mentor, Julian! Ulta finished her speech with her hands covering her face.

So she sat for a long time, rested. And then Ulta took her away. Vityai thought for a long time, remembering what happened. That’s what an invisible! And in the imperial lands they lead to the fire for witchcraft, but here — a witch lives among people, they take her to the house! Treat, take care!

— Well, got it, Wanderer? Well, go with God, you are already expected in the boat!

He was taken with him by Vataga, a trading people who gathered to go beyond the Stone, as the Ripean mountains were called here. They went up the Kama, where long merchant lodges were often found along the way, and the members of the local Permians. It happened that they pulled their ship and twine when there was a strong wind. And the sky changed often, showing its harsh disposition, then frowned, then shone. The winding river slowly carried ships and boats, carried away the brave with unexplored dals. On the banks, old trees blackened with huge trunks, swayed, waved huge branches at them. So they walked and walked along the water, then they got into Chusovaya. That river was not easy, with a harsh and furious character. Such, full of secrets and menacingly inhospitable at first glance.

“Here is Chusovaya, our great river,” the feeder told Victorius with a unique dialect, leaning on the oar, “she has such a frisky character

“What’s in it?”

— After all, only she passed through the Stone, as if she had cut the rocks with a hot knife — and the frisky Vishere even then turned out to be such a difficult task. I didn’t burn out. And after all, she gained strength on the other side of the Stone, and made her way here. Here, look how beautiful we have… Both rocks and stones have grown right up to the sky, there is no such thing anywhere. See how kind Zlatogorka is to us, — the feeder unexpectedly said, — The places here are not easy, we’ll go with an eye to not get caught on the Ancients, or that the Vogul guards would not overshadow. There are places there, marked with stones, there is no stranger there, they will not say a word, they will immediately decide. But, nothing, we will reach the town, and there it will be seen.

It was in this town that Victorius met with the young hunter Sort and his father Tabernacle.

***

Victorius carefully made his way between the stones, began to unwind a long rope. He fixed its end, exhaled almost frantically, and climbed into this move in grief. Each step was not easy, and the monk was still afraid to stumble, held on to the rough wall with his hand, put his foot with the entire sole. But, walked and walked, went downhill. True, again and again he told himself that it would be better, and he should reach. True, behind the stones, I noticed someone’s backbone, in scraps of fur clothes. The case, as you can see, was not easy, and very dangerous.

He passed the boulders, passed the destroyed arch, where he noticed unfamiliar letters. He could not resist, and redrawn strange letters carved in stone. I felt that I was very tired. He took out a flask and drank a little from it. He knelt and prayed. He also remembered the Lord God, the whole Holy Trinity, the Virgin Mary. And he thanked them all that he sees in the dark. Here, this arch had another move down. A black, black hole that looked completely hellish. The monk tried to sniff, and suddenly smells of gray, as in the Hell prison, where sinners burn forever… But, Victorius tied a rag around his mouth and nose and began to go down.

He now hit a high corridor. The tunnel was high, and dark, very dark. The floor here, surprisingly, has been sanded smooth. Victorius began to measure in steps by ear, and through fifteen of his eyes wonderful drawings on the walls opened, with people’s heads surrounded by a light-bearing aura. The colors faded, but it was clear where red was and where gold was…,

The paints hadn’t faded in years and the wall paintings were very bright and beautiful. Looked closely, and noticed next to these creatures and little men. He had heard before about fingertips, small people the width of a finger, and about the mysterious ice giants of the distant North.

Step by step, the monk moved forward and forward, and it seemed that it seemed that the door flashed with gold True, all covered with cobwebs… The mighty jamb shone with gold splashes in a black stone, as if gold was spilled in a fine rain over aspid granite.

Victorius impressed himself with the sign of the cross, and looked around, fearing traps. This door was closed with a bronze bolt, and it was easy to open it. Somehow, obeying instinct, the monk jumped, and only then noticed a huge, green copper trap at the door. Now he exhaled carefully. The dust covered everything here, and a layer of probably half a foot for sure. The monk noticed stone beds, and on them, or in them, flooded with clay, were human bones. And near them stood huge stone vessels, and in them human skulls, also flooded with clay. The dead seemed to be asleep, and expected to be woken from sleep…

The monk took out a heavy hammer from a shoulder bag. He heard how the Inquisitor fathers destroy the remains of heretics and sorcerers, burning their sinful bodies, and crushing bones with heavy hammers. Victorius weighed that instrument of God’s Will in his hand, and looked again at these skeletons. Earlier, when I thought about this monastery, I imagined how he crushed these demons, and became like David. And so, here is not one Goliath, but almost three dozen of these indomitable giants. And he is one, the most, the most… But, somehow it was unpleasant in my soul, as I imagined that fragments of bones were flying in all directions…

To be honest, he did not kick the akin and the stray dog, did not hit the cat. And here to deprive the hope of resurrection, of revival, of these.., still people… Or maybe try to resurrect them yourself, such a crazy thought originated in his head. He threw the hammer, and decided that he would definitely return here.

And then, in another hall, he saw Zlatogorka herself… No, just a statue, expressive, made of white stone, and decorated with gold. He again took up the lead pencil, sketching what he had found. The monk grabbed one piece, and hid it under his cloak, here, as proof. Just a golden ring lying by the statue. There were many products made of hot metal, but Victorius did not come for him, but only for Knowledge, and he received it.

It seemed to him that in the dark, near the floor, small, finger-wide men snooped. A strong, pressing, whistling, very high tone suddenly hit his ears. His heart beat often, often, he breathed with difficulty, bent from abdominal pain. The monk grabbed his ears in fear, and just ran from these mountain chambers, I had to get out of here, one thought was beating in his head…

***

The monk sat at a table in the cell of his father-abbot, in front of him stood a clay mug with wine. This modest abode was barely lit by a greasy candle crackling with its own heat. He looked at his older brother, who lowered his eyes to the voluminous volume that he eagerly clutched in his hands, as if he feared that some kind of force would deprive him of such a coveted thing.

— Tokayskoe? — Victorius asked with hope in his voice, — he lived for three years without our golden wine, in distant northern countries.

Father Julian slowly looked through the monk’s book, sometimes returning to the beginning of the story. Presbyter considered the matured face of the interlocutor, his student. Yes, this book was worth such an effort, oh how it cost…

And Victorius now recalled the terrible words of that Perm sorceress, said almost two years ago. He sometimes looked out of the corner of his eye at his presbyter, pretending to drink from a mug. That witch, Leah, predicted everything accurately. There was no desire to check the last saying.

— But, there are some things that I cannot understand, my son… Julian asked, “Have I read that you have discovered the Heart of the Earth itself and its guardians?”

“I dare not destroy the creation of God. What is created by God means that it is right. According to His unspoken and undiscovered craft. Who am I to judge this? And I shared the news of this, so that the unworthy could not read and touch this secret. I gave part of the diary with a map of the area and the marks that I left for preservation in Perm, in the monastery there. Everything is written in Latin, they cannot read it there, in addition, everything is encrypted… And so, this code, promising genuine power, I hid in this volume, and without it the diary cannot be read. The code is a stencil for reading a diary, and it is hidden in the binding of the book. So, it will be most reasonable to dispose of this secret.

“Maybe you’re right my son. There could be an ingenious trap, disastrous for the wicked. In their sense, not in ours. And then a terrible death would await you, — Julian spoke sublimely, and even squeezed the cross of God with his dry hand.

Victorius grinned knowingly, and nodded easily, agreeing with the mentor. But, then his face grimaced, as if in terrible pain, and the monk began to speak, as if squeezing out grave words:

— Are you going to poison me, Father Superior?”

Julian bent down, just all stretched out over the old table, and his pectoral cross dragged along the oak tabletop. He grinned slyly, and showed a suede bag. Most of all, he now resembled a snake-tempter, as he is painted on holy icons.

— No, now no… You passed the last test. And its meaning is…

— That you can’t trust anyone?”

— Of course. And any loyalty must be paid, my son… Everything has a price, and everyone should be ready to pay it!

Presbyter looked at such a brilliant monk with pleasure. And imperceptibly removed the already prepared bag of poison. Yes, the abbot at first would really like to poison him in order to permanently close the mouth of this messenger. A book without a diary is interesting to read, but completely harmless. And a person who does not know a diary in life will not read. Presbyter Julian is now quite sure of that. Only the enlightened will keep the secret, and then, when the appointed time comes, they will receive true power and power…

PART 1 Between the old hills

“Not in the stars is our destiny, but in ourselves”

William Shakespeare

CHAPTER 1 Kashchei and his bride

This deer hunter was tracking for a long time. Looking for traces on this rocky soil was generally not easy. But he patiently walked and walked when necessary, ran, not allowing the prey to break away from him, and hide, go into the thickets. It went on for a long time. But finally, the deer again decided to run. The head, proudly crowned with branched horns, held straight on the strong neck of a beautiful animal, and somehow deviated slightly back while running. It was incredibly beautiful, and the pursuer just admired the natural grace of the animal. The dark eyes of the deer mowed back, the male looked with surprise at his tireless pursuer, at such a strange creature. Neither potholes nor branches were a hindrance to him, even the fallen trees, the terrible pursuer jumped over with such ease, as if he even had wings behind his back. The deer ran away from the pack of wolves, once he was able to throw even a lynx from his back, and here, he could not tear himself away from the indomitable and strange creature.

It was covered with short fur, with a very familiar smell. And, apparently, the predator was the most terrible. Strong, strong and unprecedentedly hardy.

Only here is strange, because he ran on only two legs. True, to his regret, this was not a consequence of injury, or ugliness. It was not a giant bird, and not a bear, suddenly standing on its hind legs. Everything was much simpler and worse…

It’s just that a man was running after the deer. A man dressed in leather clothes, summer time. And, the stubborn hunter overtook the beast. The deer bent its head back, protecting its neck from the bite, but the pursuer’s weapons were his hands. With a huge, incredible force, the jerk threw the horned handsome man to the ground, so much so that they only cracked the branches of the dead man. The deer tried to hit the enemy with his powerful forked hooves, but the hunter only laughed, jumped, and grabbing his horns, whispered:

— Sorry, forest giant!

And powerful hands at once tore off the deer’s head. Blood covered the fallen tree, legs became convulsed, and finally everything died down. Fear hung in the overgrowth, no one dared to tweet. Forest inhabitants have seen this more than once, and immediately hid, only smelling the smell of the Hunter.

And so, this man, in a few movements, skinned the prey, pulling off like a stocking from his leg. Then he spread the meat, putting it in a bag, did not forget about the horns, which he simply broke off from the deer’s head, but as if they were only thin spruce branches.

Taking all this, he threw back the hood of his fur jacket, and laughed, looking around his lands. No one dared to challenge them — neither wolves nor bears, everything here was his. In the stream, he busily washed his hands from blood, rinsed his face and head, even though there was only a silver strand on the back of his head from his hair. The hunter was not old, his face seemed very young, about twenty years old, no more. It’s just that his ancestors awarded him with such hair, as well as height, a little change her adult bear.

But finally, this young man went with his springy gait between the hills, where small stones rustled under his soft boots. Finally, he turned off the road, and in front of him there seemed to be a high stone fence surrounding this hidden place. Composed of huge, mossy smoothly combed blocks. But a person is unusual or inexperienced, would take this masonry for a stone rock or ridge. But how could ordinary people do this?

Rather, not quite as a random person who has wandered here would have thought. Well, the Hunter knocked on the gate, and he was opened by a young man who was also tall to match him.

— Hello to you, Kashoy, we were waiting, we didn’t know when you would return!

“Not empty-handed. Here, brought meat. Fresh, otherwise, right, everyone is tired of the fish!

— nothing. Let’s put something on the glacier, and what Visna will bake. Let’s go eat, otherwise the porridge will cool down! Tata excellent porridge millet boiled, in milk! Porridge went inside this house — safe. From the inside, everything looked much more pleasant, more fun than from the outside. The solid building was worked out in the old days, round in plan, in two floors. A dozen small windows allowed the rays of the sun to penetrate inside. The yard was well maintained, cleanly swept out.

Two huskies ran up to the people, one of them poked her nose into Kashey’s hand. He stroked the dogs, sat down nearby.

— Well, what? I haven’t forgotten about you. Come with me.

He stood at the dog kennels, where large clay bowls stood, without traces of dirt, clean and washed. In them and put bones for fluffs.

— Here, eat, well done, — said Tivda, — and you are Gray, and you, Naida. Now you have enough food for a long time!

Dogs gnawed at bones with rumbling, scraping meat, veins and fat clean from them. The hunter didn’t need to think about something yet…

A ring was also dug in the courtyard, in one of the huge basement. A couple of cows were placed further away from the living rooms, so as not to interfere with people. But they gave out their presence with a loud moo. It was necessary to think about the animal.

— Salit, it’s time to drive the cows away for grazing! — Kashchey reminded, — why did you forget, or what?

— Yes I remember, I am now! I’ll do it, Tivda!

This is actually the name of the Hunter, Tivda, and Kashchey is only the nickname given by Alma, the Second of the Dead Princes.

Salit looked like all the inhabitants of this building, the fortress house. Tall, slender, with a shaved head, and a pigtail of silver hair on the back of his head. And this young man, and in appearance no one would have given him more than twenty years, opened the gate, and began to drive the cows out of the gate. One of them was stubborn, not wanting to leave the warm barn. Then the giant, without saying a word, got hooked, put this huge pied on his shoulders, did not sigh and did not bother, as if he had raised a small pebble. The cow, however, did not feel fear, did not moo and did not fight, only turned its head, and licked Salit’s face, rough as a grater. He just grinned, and came out with a cow on his shoulders from the yard, on a puddle. Another cow, another calf, quickly ran, waving her tail cheerfully. A tall girl looked at it with a smile, with silver hair pulled into a tight braid. The elegant sundress and shirt went well for her, as did the low dress.

“Good afternoon, Tata,” said the hunter.

— And you, Tivda, — the girl answered somehow strained, tortured.

But the young man noticed that he was somehow hiding Tat’s eyes, as if something had happened. He looked around again, I think everything was fine, or? Something seemed to hit the heart with a needle, it became harder to breathe.

— Where is Nastasya? What does not meet? asked Kashchei, not yet understanding.

He said, not because he knew, but just wanted to calm down. Remove the ugly sense of expectation from my head and heart. He just hated him.

“So she begged to let her go. Say, he doesn’t love you and that’s it… She cried endlessly, asked to regret… We allowed her to leave. She’s kind and good…

— And who was so clever?

He asked so simply to annoy Tatu. And she could decide with Lut, no one else?

— Have you forgotten to ask me? Nevertheless, you know, I gave her father a whole pound of gold for her daughter, — I didn’t say anymore, but Kashchey shouted, — what are you doing? Don’t you let me live?

— Why did you shout like that? Just think, girl… True, she does not love you!

— Because, as he does not know yet, fooling, what a smart and skillful I am! And we need her daddy, change gold for bread. Or do not remember, — Kashchey already said with the echidza, — how did we sit without bread for a year because of Salitova Duri?

Both recalled how their shepherd killed merchants under the hot hand, who alone went to the monastery, to the Old Believers. Traders — of course, were burnt crooks, while others were afraid to trade in this village.

— Well, I got excited from old memory, could not restrain myself, — even Visna, who came here, stood up, — well, and killed… Cheat his bargains. Sil did not calculate, and pulled out both hands, because by chance it turned out…

“Why nailed heads to a tree?” Why nailed something? It is good that stories went to the monastery about some evil spirits, they did not send the police here, and the Cossacks too.

“What do you remember?” It was already sixty years ago, so you will reproach us for everything? And do you remember Lyut’s paper wings? Visna was angry now.

— So my house, I built. They came to me, promised, — Kashchey said wearily, — that you will not give yourself away. And Lute too… Well, for what? He flew over the monastery, but drowned in the river. And I again suffered, dug the grave. Well, at least he waited for darkness, and only then left the cemetery.

— And you did it all alone? — and Tata now stood up — in the sides, — forgot how we pressed the stones, the water conduits and plums got along? And now, he alone turns out, everything was arranged here? And I was probably tired, I slept off my face, even walked…

— Okay, I’ll go look for Nastasya myself, otherwise it will disappear here, on these paths…

And sighing, Kashchey went to his cell, all looking back at his comrades’ friends. No, well, of course, living together is always more fun, and he did not hold his evil. But the girl easily here, in these places, the abyss could, that’s for sure. So thinking, went into his chambers. Several rooms with a stove, and a great bedroom. And what didn’t you like? The bed is rich, covered with sables, and the furniture, as the merchants brought it from Severouralsk, brought it from the monastery on its back. And in the closet, Japanese porcelain replaced sable skins with five magpies. Yes, even he has a gramophone! And Nastasya escaped. And what did the girl need? I could not understand.,.

He opened the closet, carved, beautiful, walnut tree, took out unusual clothes to look like a traveler from a wealthy family. He looked at himself in the mirror. It seemed that he looked good. Wool knitted sweater, breeches, leggings, boots with laces. Leather jacket to the knee, and kepi complemented the appearance. He also took a “hard drive” with a hundred rounds of ammunition, threw a backpack with supplies behind his back.

And something remembered again those distant days when I met Tsarevna Alma for the first time…

CHAPTER 2 Remember to Forget

He walked and walked along the path in these deserted places. I looked for, and found the slightest trace — a trampled flower, a trace of skating rinks, a place on gravel where a heavy load was placed. As his twin brothers walked with granite coffins on their shoulders, all six… Those with whom he loyally served Ella the sovereign, and saw the Magi Ramid and his unots Pakal and Zend take them, the Immortals, to a distant tract. I watched, from a distant hill, as Pakal and Unod cut off their heads, and then the remains, alternately, were boiled in a huge bronze cauldron. As a wolf, Ramid takes the bones personally to the dungeon, and then the skulls placed in clay taverns.

All his friends did not resist the orders of the Magi, but he, Tivda, did not want! No, I didn’t want to! Why should he wait for the End of Time, and Resurrection, and lie covered with a web in a dark cave? He wanted to help people, and to begin with, help his brothers. He must decide, and resurrect them. None of the Immortals could die. It was only necessary to combine the skeleton and the skull, and wait, wait, almost two weeks, until the bones sprout again with new flesh.

Tivda felt, no, he was just sure it would be better. In every way they will do such things, they will perform so many feats! And there, you see, the New Dead Princess will appear, as everyone was promised. And they will still serve her faithfully. So Tivda consoled himself.

— Well, I think I went through all the traps — the Immortal Knight whispered quietly.

Indeed, he passed the traps and walked around a dozen traps, strangles and self-arrows. He passed a ridge of stones, crawled through a destroyed arch, walked around a terrible gate. I almost lit a torch, but I remembered that I saw perfectly in the dark.

So he went down and down, down several steps of a huge black staircase, leading even deeper, to the lower level, into this terrible blackness pressing on the brains. He erased, crawled almost squatting, trying not to touch even more sophisticated traps.

It should be black and black, there was complete darkness for an ordinary person. But for his eyes, the eyes of the Immortal, everything was painted only in different tones of gray. But, it was possible to navigate, heavy blackness could not take him prisoner so easily. Tivda felt like a master and winner here, and not a victim.

He walked and walked, sometimes winding along the back streets, until he ran into a wall completely covered with inscriptions. He read the warnings drawn by the Magi Ramid

— Scare others, dedicated, — whispered Tivda, you won’t take me for it…

He went on and on. Step by step he ordered himself to go forward and forward, and it seemed that it seemed that at last that cherished door flashed, dwelling in gold… An incredibly powerful and powerful jamb shone with gold splashes in a black stone, as if gold had poured in a fine rain over aspid granite.

Tivda sighed heavily, anticipating the unknown, what he would do now. He looked at the cunning lock, and grinned.

“No, Ramid, you can’t take me with such a trick…” he said quietly.

With a cunning master key, he unlocked the lock, closed the door behind him, and the bolt again fell into the same grooves. Taking his time, Immortal stepped on the polished floor of this shelter, listening for the slightest rustle. Haste could destroy everything… But now, he crept up to a number of sarcophagi, in the headboards of which were clay taverns with skulls. Tivda read the first inscription on the dishes:" Olin.”

On top of the vessel, along the rim there was another inscription: “Since you have come to awaken us, you pray before this.” Below it was another inscription:" We are all from Ella’s deck.”

I remembered Tivd Olina, after all, only three years passed, as six from their deck, went here, to these distant limits. There was a place for him, one sarcophagus stood empty.

— Hello to you all, friends… Olin, Khvylya, Shakra, Ata, Rasta, and you, Tia… Nothing, I can handle it, I will wake you up, — he whispered.

He turned around, lost his guard, rolled down and felt a sharp spear tip enter the body. His chest was pierced through, he could hardly breathe, he pulled like a fish on a prison, trying to get off, but only bled and lost strength. Finally, he himself was forgotten in a bad dream.

It is not known when I woke up, and my head was as if not my own. And he woke up from the light, an oil lamp was burning in front of him. But that’s not the point! Tivda, alone, noticed a priggish girl sitting on a bag. Such was the beauty that it’s scary to think… Immortal, opened another eye, but, the guest really was not lost…

— Immortal, — said the girl, not a drop doubting what was said.

— Tivda, — the young man called himself, — I am Immortal from Ella’s deck. Now I owe you, Chosen, for life.

— I-Alma. How… — everything that the healer was able to say so far.

— I came to help out. Yes, and hung on the edge of seventy years. Thank you, you saved. Now I will serve you. Only my own wake up.

— Don’t do that, warrior. It will be bad.

— So how? — the warrior was confused, — to leave his own?

— For thousands of years you will wait in the wings for what happens, what is predetermined. Pity them. They will see loved ones die endlessly. They will not be able to live among people.

— So I am alone… Too bad. Why, it’s boring!

— In the Urals, in the mountains, Lute hides. From the deck of Ilsa, the first Princess. You can find it easily. There and live, away from people, before the term. And then the unots of the magi will hunt for you, and many people will die.

— Your truth, Alma. And I don’t want to kill unots. Nothing, I will wait for the next Princess, and I will offer my loyalty to her, if you allow it.

— Be your way, — the girl gladly agreed, — but you just need to get out of here.

And then, the fire went out. Tivda, grinning, noticed that the girl was scared. Otherwise, it would be bad to deal with completely fearless!

— Now we will go out, do not worry, — said the Immortal, — I see well in the dark. I’ll take us out.

He gently put one hand around the maiden. Alma only felt his hands on her waist, and heard a cry:

— Cling to your fingers and pull yourself up! In another way!

The girl pulled her body to the floor of the dungeon corridor, and again Tivda’s palm fell on her shoulder:

“I’ll get it out. In the dark I see everything as during the day. Don’t worry, girl.

And they went, and then Tivda grabbed Alma in his arms and ran. It seemed so easy. They got out quickly. Tivda seated the witch doctor on the stones. laying his felt cloak. The girl again looked at his appearance, and unexpectedly, through force, suggested:

— You need to wash, blood scrape. Yes, and cut and shave you need.

“All right, madam,” the warrior chuckled.

Nearby was a stream, cold, worse than ice. Tivda threw off his clothes. Alma turned away hastily. And the Immortal noticed how a bird curls above them, and not simple.

Finally, the big raven began to hurriedly go down, and jumped on a stone next to the girl, croaked deafeningly, and mowed everything with a black eye on the healer. Alma groped for food in her bag, took bread for herself, and treated the bird to smoked fish. But the raven was not going to fly away, only it was important to walk around. and thrust his beak into Tivda’s clothes.

Immortal with pleasure while splashing in the water, trying to wash off all the blood. I tried to wipe off my shirt, pants and boots. Although there was such a crust of dirt, but the efforts of the knight still surpassed. He was able to put on his pants and boots, and returned to the girl with the raven.

— Almost frozen, it’s good that I can’t get sick, — he said, as if boasting.

She looked without moving at his slender body. Tivda has already settled down, yet he is not so bad! But it finally got to him! She looks out for scars, and there really, even from this spear on which he hung, and there was no trace left!

— Here, you sing, — and she handed him a fish, — completely emaciated. Straight porridge immortal.

“And for sure,” he laughed, “I’ll call it that now!” Well, noth