ENTRY IX

Myuri stood up from the warm fur bed. She looked at the window yonder. A lot of things were on her mind. I left with the first rays of dawn and need to go even farther north. Something large was about to change. A single thought appeared over and over, will I return for her once I have finished my business. She hoped it was true, even more than the fact that she had everything in the village. It was boring and dull, to put it simply. She was used to always being on foot, never staying too much in the same place let alone for a long time. What else she could do? She only had to wait, the hardest part of them all. There must be something that she could do. Anything, anything at all, it was worth a try. She truly hopped.

The day was bright, she went out. The village was quiet. Her eyes looked at the smallest details. There weren't that many. A woman carrying a bucket of fresh water, passed her, waved and continued on her way. The village was still asleep. She needs to find something to do in this village.

It was a was a typical roadside village, clinging to the mountainside, huts of straw and wood, dirty, ducking between crooked fences. But, the inhabitants were different. They were a rare breed of people. They were more than welcoming to strangers, but, if you betray their trust, they became the worst sort of people that will do anything to a person. While, the beliefs of the outskirt villages are long forgotten, their beliefs are stronger than ever.

Albin was right; she thought. It's nothing more than a normal village on the outskirts of nowhere and everything. I only wish that there is something to do here. Is it so hard? Come on, gods, there must be something to do here. I hope. There is nothing else that I can do.

What could she do? Only to wait for the village to wake, the hardest thing ever imagined.

The sun climbed the cloudless morning sky, the village slowly waked. The blacksmith was the first to rise. He was the first to open his shop.

Tam grabbed the rod more tightly with the pliers and turned it in the embers.

"Step on it, Berit!" he ordered.

The journeyman grabbed the handle of the bellows. His chubby face shone with sweat. In spite of the door being wide open, the smithy was unbearably hot. Tam lifted the rod onto the anvil, flattened the end with a few mighty blows of his hammer.

The wheelwright Robin, sitting on a rough block of birchwood, was sweating heavily as well. He unbuttoned his overall and pulled the shirt out of his pants. "Strangers, what will we see next?" he asked. "They are a strange lot."

"Aye," Berit replied.

"Why are so quiet, blacksmith?" Robin asked.

"A man needs concentration," the blacksmith brushed him off.

"True."

The hammer beat the anvil rhythmically, almost melodically. Berit pulled the bellows. It was a typical scene.

She saw six figures, all on horseback, wearing leather-studded vests, hauberks, leather helmets with nose protection made of steel which ran as a straight line of metal between huge olive eyes. They sat on their horses without moving, as if careless. Myuri, who let her gaze sweep from one to the other, saw their weapons: short spears with broad blades, swords with strangely forged cross-guards. Broadaxes. Serrated glaives. They weren't from here; you didn't have to be an expert to figure that out.

Two of them stood opposite the entrance to the smithy. A tall man on a gray mold, wearing a cloak, a sun emblem on his helmet, was closer. And the other was even taller. He wore a dark bear cloak, but from behind the beak-shaped helmet, pale blue eyes watched her, no olive ones. In those eyes lay such cold, indifferent violence that Myuri felt a terrible fear course through her, chilling her innards, causing nausea, a tickling in her behind. It was still quiet. She heard the flies humming above the manure pile behind the fence.

The man with the beak-shaped spoke first: "What place is this?"

"Rulbik," Myuri answered.

"Rulbik, are you sure?"

"Yes."

"How did we get here?" he asked the man besides him.

"I don't know," the man replied. "Maybe, we took a wrong turn."

"Maybe, move out men."

The group of six turned in the opposite direction. Myuri stood and watched as they turned towards east.

The old royal scribe must be awake, she thought. That man is always awake.

She went towards his house.

Inside his house, the old retired royal scribe opened one of his old wooden boxes. The wood was in excellent condition, the motive on the box was still strong and visible. A cheery tree over the old Yamir bridge, it was a typical motive of the time. It was strange for him that it survived this far. They don't make them this strong any more. It was well worth the investment, most boxes would have decomposed a long time ago, but not this one. The secret is, they say, its lacquer finish. This is never proven, maybe, the secret is the in the type of wood. Whatever the case may be, this type of boxes was designed to stay the same for a very long time. His hand moved the top lid; he waited and after a few moments took out its content. His hands shake. What was that much important? What did he keep in there? Rare items adorned with gems and semi-precious stones or maybe the dwarves made mighty spells, when hammers fell like bells in places dark, where dark things sleep, in hallow halls beneath the fells. Countless, beautiful, things they carved for their selves. Harps of gold, where no man dwelt, there they belong. Many songs were sung, unheard by men or elves.

For ancient kings and high lords, they made golden hoards, which with their shape caught the reflection of light or we hidden in sword hilts. On silver necklaces, they struck shinny stars. On crowns, they placed dragon fires, twisted in a spiral pattern; they twisted the light of the moon and the sun.

Was it truly a rare item? It was, but not an item that most would think. It was a very old scroll.

Myuri knocked on the door; the old man got up, went across the room and opened the door. She entered without a word.

"You're bored," he said. "It's easy to see."

"True," she replied.

"I have something that will interest you."

"I'm sure."

"I have everything."