Kanror's main gate was remarkably empty today. No wonder, the remaining inhabitants of the city were still deterred by the rotting, impaled head of Odegon, the former ruler of central Hadgard. The conquered Kanrorians also tried to avoid meeting with the invading army. Gorsep, surrounded by his entourage, was returning to Gardynia at the behest of his father. As a prince and future heir to the eastern throne, he knew he had to care for his future heritage, for many reasons, the most important being not to end up like Odegon.
Hadbel's son was slowly succumbing to the horse's rhythm. After a month in Kanror, smelling of rotten corpses and fear of its inhabitants, he was glad to see his own home. He was fed up with hostile stares, whispers and the necessity of constant presence of guards wherever he was going. It has been three months since he and his father went to war at the head of an army of almost 8,000 men.
The sun was shining brightly, warming the morning air. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky. While driving, the hot air slowly turned into heavy stuffiness. Gorsep removed his helmet and strapped it to the saddle. His long black hair spilled over his back and rose with the breeze. In the rays of the sun, the silver armor reflected the light, striking the eyes of other riders. They rode a light trot, they didn't want to force their mounts too much. Gorsep turned his face towards the sun enjoying its touch and the sense of freedom the vastness of the Hadgard steppes has given him. In the distance, he noticed a herd of skittish antelopes. His thoughts, however, were constantly occupied by the mercenary figure.
They met six years ago, her father worked for them. Minor internal disputes had to be cleared, and his father finally wanted to take over Errid, Gardynia and the Equerds. It was not a typical civil war, but rather tracking down conspirators and killing the entire family of traitors. It was then that he met Setia, a beautiful, black-haired with incredible vital energy. Gorsep smiled at the recollection of common conversations, hand-to-hand combat exercises, and the first sexual experience. Then a minor accident happened and her father was killed. On the very same day, Setia and the entire squad disappeared from Gardynia. Ever since they were passing each other, he saw her once in Hyperion, but she didn't speak to him, she disappeared from the city very quickly. Setia was stuck in his head like a splinter ...
"Prince," Jaset's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, "the horses are already tired, why don't we stop?"
Gorsep looked around, the sun was already warming his back and before them, shrouded in a bluish haze, were the Arpiny Mountains, the highest mountain range in Hadgard, the day after tomorrow, around noon, he will be at home.
"Okay," he agreed.
"Stop! We'll rest here for a while." Jaset informed the men,
***
In fact, Moros wasn't used to any comforts. The slave's life taught him to be humble and to enjoy the day without screaming, whipping or getting a hot meal. He had better and worse masters, sometimes he acted as a butler because they thought that he was lovely and looked nice as a standing decoration at the table, and sometimes he was taking away the dung and doing the worst work because the owner was afraid that his daughter or wife could be seduced by him.
He has always dreamed of freedom, but not the freedom he has known for the last few days. He was hungry, cold and finally he had to admit that he was totally lost.
All those damn trees looked the same. They had huge trunks ending with huge roots partially hidden under the water. Their branches often fell so low that they touched the water table. Swamp worms were everywhere, his legs, face and especially hands were blistered. He had torn black squirming leeches off his legs many times. He even caught himself thinking that it was better to remain a slave. The loud rumble and another twist of the intestines reminded him again that his last meal was long ago. He was tired and wondered if he'd better sit down here and wait for death.
The tree under which he was standing was slightly higher than the others, and there was some dry earth here. Moros sat down and for a moment and was watching the scraps of sky flashing between the treetops, it had a gray-blue color, the wind slightly moved the branches of the tree, and a gray bird sat on the branch, staring at him with bulging yellow eyes. The ex-slave stared at him thoughtlessly for a moment, and then realized that it was his meal. All he has to do is shoot him. The thought had such an impact on him that he was unable to draw his bow out of nervousness. He dropped his arms for a moment and breathed deeply several times, then drew his bow and held his breath for a moment. The hissed arrow hit the target. The bird spluttered into the water. Moros immediately lunged to catch him. Food, that's all he was able to think about now. He managed to get the bird before it submerged under the water. He quickly returned to a dry spot under the tree and began plucking the bird's feathers. Only after a while did he realize that there was no way to bake this animal. Still he managed to clean the bird. Despite all the disgust he felt, Moros managed to eat the raw meat. He knew he will survive.