Chapter 15.

A courtyard with a small pool in the middle, and fish in it – Ned had never seen anything like them. Spotted, beautiful, they stuck their heads out of the water, opened their thick-lipped mouths, which made quiet sounds in the air, as if someone was kissing and smacking behind a wall of lush grapes.

The bunches of grapes, some ripe, some green, with their weight tore off the arbour's braiding, and the sun, already setting, did not break through the green canopy, unable to touch the interlocutors with its hot rays.

Tiraz noticed Ned's interest in the grapes, stood up, picked up a short sword lying on the fastenings driven into the wall, and with one lightning-fast movement chopped down a large bunch, caught it in the air and placed it on a porcelain plate in front of Ned:

- Try it. It is my pride. I brought the vine from the southern continent. I carried it through many countries, and it cost me a lot of work. And even more work was to accustom it to live here, to bear fruit in soil unfamiliar to it. This is my hobby - gardening. I thought out everything in this yard myself. And the pool, and the plants, and the selection of fish for the pool. The fish are also not simple - the same ones swim in the king's pond. This is an ancient breed - colored siruses. If you only knew what it cost me to get them! But I will remain silent, - the master smiled, and his eyes clouded over, as if he was recalling the twists and turns of this adventure. However, Ned knew how he got them. He overheard. They cost the master a lot of money. It seems that Tiraz was not a poor man ...

Ned picked a large berry – to be honest, he had never tried grapes. They did not grow in the village of Black Ravine. And the firm, slightly crunchy pulp seemed simply delicious to Ned. He sent it into his stomach with pleasure, reached for the next one… and until he had rid the bunch of half the berries, he could not stop.

The master watched with a slight smile as the guest sated himself with his treat, and when he considered that he had eaten enough, he finally asked:

- So, what brought you to me, respected Master? And don't be shy - drink the drink! It is made according to my recipe - it refreshes and restores lost strength. It is advisable to drink without sugar or honey, they kill the taste, but if you like it sweeter, then there is nothing to worry about - drink as you wish. Here is honey, here is cane sugar...

The master pushed an ornate porcelain cup towards Ned and poured a fragrant dark liquid, smelling of spices and flowers, from a heavy clay teapot.

Ned nodded gratefully, picked up the cup and inhaled with pleasure the smell, which for some reason reminded him of the smell of Sanda's hair.

The master smiled slightly and said:

– They say that the smell of chia reminds you of what you want to remember most. You remembered something good, right?

"Thank you, yes," Ned smiled, taking a sip of the liquid that washed away the sweetness of the grapes and warmed his stomach. "I came to you with a request. Teach me how to use a sword."

- You?! With a sword?! - the master was sincerely amazed. - Can't you really handle a sword? Why? How did this happen?

"Please do not ask me about things I cannot tell you," Ned said, looking down at the table. "I do not want to, I do not wish to lie. But I cannot tell you the truth either. For what reason? I cannot tell you that either – forgive me. I will pay you for the lessons. I have money. Not much, but I have it. And I really need to learn how to use the sword well. It is assumed that in some time I will go to the capital, to study at the officers' school. And I must know how to use a sword. Do you understand? Right now I am below your youngest students in this art."

"I don't need your payment," the master answered calmly, "you interest me as a mystery, as a strange person who defies my understanding. In exchange for lessons, I will ask you to demonstrate to me everything you can do. And not just once. And I will teach you what I can. Do you agree?"

- Agreed! - Ned sighed with relief. - What will it all look like? When can we start? Where will we train?

The master thought for a moment, sat with his eyes closed, and then said:

- Let's do it this way: you will come to me when you have time and when it is convenient for you. If you wish - even late in the evening. I sleep little. Three or four hours are enough for me to restore my strength, and I can distribute them over the course of the day. Where do you live now?

- In the officers' barracks of the base.

- It would be better if you lived somewhere nearby. We need to rent a room somewhere nearby, then you can come to me in your free time. Any time.

- And I... won't bother you? Family?

"I don't have a family," the master answered dryly. "I did once, but… they all died. I didn't start a new family. My family is all these boys who come to learn martial arts. And girls. There are some, too, although not many. I think that girls are even stronger in some types of martial arts. And besides, girls need to be able to stand up for themselves. If my wife had wielded a sword in her time… 'Gods, gods… why didn't you give me some sense then? Why did I think martial arts weren't for women? She would be alive now… and my boys… I'm a fool, a fool. What good did it do me to find and cut the robbers to pieces? I only got dirty – physically and mentally. And you can't bring back love. It burned everything. It burned…'

- Sorry, I was lost in thought, - the master, who had suddenly fallen silent, looked up, - where were we? Aha - you need to rent a room as close to the school as possible. You also need clothing for training - loose clothing, light leather sandals, preferably two sets. This can be easily purchased at the market - Doras's shop is there, it has everything you need. Also - bathing utensils: soap, a towel. Everyone brings these with them. Well, and ... basically, that's all. The rest I have - swords of various types. With blunt edges. And wooden swords - at first you will have to use this. What is your name ... Ned?

- My name is Ned the Black. And you can call me by the informal "you", you are at least three times older than me.

- How old are you... are you?

"I don't know," Ned admitted honestly, "from seventeen to… I don't know how many years old. I'm a foundling, they found me on the seashore. So – how old I am, I can't say. How I learned martial arts – I can't tell you, forgive me."

- I see. I am two and a half times older than you, - the master smiled, - I had to go through some things, that's why I look older. Oh well. Let's get down to business. So, we agreed. Let me clarify - you will show your art in front of me and my students, and I will teach you here, in the backyard. I do not want to ruin your image of a great master. Do you understand?

"I understand," Ned nodded. "Tell me, can you help me find an apartment? I don't know anyone here, maybe you have some information – who rents out a room, or an entire apartment, or a house."

- I will help. When you leave the school, turn right, towards the sea. Walk about two hundred steps, you will see a large two-story house - a woman named Zadara lives there. She is an elderly woman, her children are in the capital, so she lives alone. She has many rooms, and if you want, there is a guest house in the yard. At my request, she will take you in for lodging.

The master took a piece of paper from the table next to the main table, carefully cut off a strip, then took an inkwell and a sharpened stick from the drawer and, carefully and beautifully drawing letters, wrote something. Then he sprinkled the paper with sand from the sandbox, shook it off and handed it to Ned:

- Here. Give it to her. She knows my handwriting. I used to live in her house and was friends with her children. The chia has cooled down, and you still haven't finished it, - he grinned. - Well, it's nice even cold. Finish it, and now we'll go, choose a weapon and check what you can do in sword fighting. Ready? Let's go.

Ned popped the fragrant liquid into his mouth, swallowing as he went, and hurried after the master as he came out of the gazebo. He suddenly turned around and said:

- In public I will address you as "you". That's the way it should be. We are both masters. In private - "you", since from this moment you are my student. Let's go.

They walked into the training yard, where about thirty children were busily swinging wooden swords under the supervision of an older boy. The master came over, made a few comments, adjusted the hands on the "swords" of three students, then walked into the winter hall, beckoning Ned to follow him.

- Look here - do you see the swords hanging? Now you should come up and choose the sword that, in your opinion, suits you best. There are combat swords hanging over there. Take one of them, and then we will select an analogue from the training swords. How to choose a sword? Hold it in your hand, try to swing it, check the balance, is it comfortable. The sword you need will fit into your hand itself, do not doubt it. And I will tell you - whether you made the right choice.

Ned walked up to the wall. Dozens of swords, a whole arsenal. It looked like the master had been saving them for years, collecting them, lovingly keeping them – each sword in its place – wooden blocks with a recess in the middle hammered into the wall, into which the sword lay, like a cozy bed. The blocks were polished and varnished – almost a work of art in themselves.

The swords lay in neat rows, and Ned couldn't help but admire the sight of these murder weapons, crafted with such care and skill that it was impossible to look away. Some were in sheaths, so it was impossible to tell what kind of blade they were, but most had dull gleaming blades that, like all expensive swords, showed the sinuous pattern of the layers of metal.

Ned already knew that blades like these were made by forging twisted rods of the finest steel, and some of the steel, he was told, was infused with precious stones, so this sword could be very expensive.

Suddenly, his attention was drawn to one sword - quite short, straight, with a simple hilt, not decorated with any engravings or figures. But on the blade Ned noticed an inscription made in those same unfamiliar runes - like on his spear, like on the sword that the omnipresent old Pernal had dug out of a pile of iron. That sword now stood in Ned's armory.

Ned carefully took the sword off the bed, trembling for the sword to twitch and for the demon's head to pop out, but nothing happened. This sword, like the one in his room, was silent, lying quietly in his hand. Ned looked questioningly at the master, who came up, looked and asked with interest:

- What? This sword definitely doesn't fit your hand, it's too short. This is the second sword, for the left hand. Or for the right - if you're left-handed. It should have a pair - that is, a long sword with the same runes. They always come in pairs.

- And what kind of sword is this, may I know? Where did it come from?

- Oh-oh-oh! It's a long story. I'll tell you briefly - it's quite an expensive sword, worth more than its weight in gold. But that's not all. If it were enchanted, it would be worth much more.

"What do you mean, bewitched?" Ned asked with interest. "Tell me!"

- Listen. There is a legend that the weapon marked with these runes was made by some ancient order of black magicians. Which one? I don't know. There was talk that this order was once destroyed. But only they, these magicians, knew how to use a special spell to imprison a demon in a blade, and when the owner of the weapon killed an enemy, the demon took the enemy's life force and transferred part of it to its owner. Demons feed on life force, so...

- And what happens when the owner of this weapon uses the sword for a long time? Well, this one, the enchanted one?

- Hmm... I don't know anything about that. I also know that the demon doesn't sit in the blade forever. Then it disappears somewhere. An example is this sword. There's nothing in it. It's pure.

- How do you know?

- I tried it. Once.

The master's eyes clouded over... "Yes, I did. This creature squealed and begged for mercy. But I cut off his hands. Those hands with which he killed my family. And then I ripped open his belly. The sword drank blood..."

"You know, Master," Ned decided, "I have a pair for this sword."

- Where from? - Tiraz was amazed. - However, I'm not asking...

- No, nothing so secret - I was getting an army sword from a warehouse, and the storekeeper gave it to me. He said he found it in old swords, trophies and collected from who knows where. He said it was ancient and not listed in the inventory at all. I gave him a piece of silver, and he gave it to me. Forever.

- What?! For a piece of silver? Ha-ha-ha! What a fool! If only he knew... - The Master laughed loudly and even had tears in his eyes. Then he wiped his eyes with his wrist, calmed down, and said: - It costs a lot, a lot of money. Take care of it! It doesn't get dull, it doesn't break. And the fact that there is no demon in it - maybe it's for the best. To hell with them, these demons. Although... sometimes it happens that life force wouldn't hurt. By the way, what does that sword look like?

- Hmm... well... if you take this one of yours and lengthen it twice, you'll get that sword. By the way, it suits my hand very well.

- Then there is nothing to invent, look for the sword - here is the one that is most similar. Is it him?

The master took a sword from the wall and handed it to Ned. The sword was exactly the same as the one left in the barracks, only without the runes on the blade, and was also decorated with a small ornament on the handle. An ordinary, quite decent sword of high class.

- Yes, exactly the same. Only without the runes.

- Good, - the master nodded with satisfaction, - now tell me, what kind of weapons do you use? I don't mean the crossbow and stone throwing machines, you don't have to mention them.

- I'm good with a spear. Very good. With a knife. I can throw knives - also quite good. Well... that's all.

- A pole? A pole how?

- I haven't tried. We didn't have any poles.

– Must be able to wield a pole. A spear is the same as a pole, only with a tip. Hmm… interesting, very interesting. It seems that you were trained in some branch of the ancient orders. They attached more importance to working with poles and secret weapons – like knives, throwing knives. Although they were also quite good with a sword. But not all of them. It was believed that a sword is a weapon for dumb warriors, and a real fighter hides his skill in order to get closer to his victim and stick a knife in their back. Or throw a knife. Or hit the victim with a special technique so that they die in the near future – not immediately, not on the spot, but in a few hours. And they also used a "traveler's pole" and wielded it masterfully. By the way, many poles were equipped with swords like these. It was attached to the end of the pole, and you got something between a sword and a spear. A lethal thing. The most interesting thing is that on the outside it was a stick like a stick, but when you pulled off its sheath, a sword like this appeared. And then... then you wouldn't envy this fighter's opponents. Especially if he mastered the Snake style... you master the Snake style... and you saw and held such a spear-sword in your hands, right, Ned? - The master's eyes narrowed, became hard and prickly, like thorns.

- Yes... and I have such a spear. But I do not wish to harm you or anyone else. Unless he himself wishes to harm me. You need not fear me.

– Just a couple of questions – did you study with these masters?

- No.

- Is this order still alive?

"I don't think so. I'm not sure. I've never met any of them," Ned said firmly.

- Well then... I believe you, - the master lowered his eyes, - I believe you. Although everything inside me protests - this can't be! I know that yesterday you could have killed me, absolutely for sure. But you didn't. Therefore - I believe you.

- Believe me. I will never harm you. I swear by everything I have. Unless you want to harm me yourself. But I already said that.

- I did. Okay, to business. Then we will proceed from your combat tactics. So, you are used to fighting with a pole or something similar. How did you hold the part that is topped with a sword? You are right-handed, right?

- Right-handed. I held the spear with the tip on the right, slightly lower than the shaft in my left hand.

- So, that's how we'll build your combat tactics. You'll fight as if it were not a sword, but a spear. There is such a style of sword fighting. I suspect that it came from this very order. That is, in fact, you wield a sword. Only you were taught to use it in a completely different way. After all, you are an army sergeant. You were told - a shield in your left hand, a sword in your right. You lean out from behind the shield and thrust - bang! And back. R-r-bang! And back. But individual combat is completely different. We will need to study several styles. One is the one you will use in individual fights, your main one. The rest are more or less ordinary. And all of them - with the use of a paired sword-dagger and without it. Now look - take this sword with a grip not like you were taught in the army, but as if you were holding a spear with a tip from a sword. That is, with the handle up, and the blade down and to the right. Imagine you have your spear. Is it more comfortable? Try to strike an invisible enemy. Okay, yeah, not bad, not bad at all. You need to hone your movements, remind your body of what it can already do, and you will be a master of the sword. If you fight with this grip. And just a decent swordsman - if you fight like ordinary swordsmen do.

- I have two months, no more. Soon we will sail to the Isfirian border.

- Yes, yes... I heard. It's sad. They say it's very hot there. People can't sit still... Oh well. Two months will be enough for us. You're not starting from scratch. I thought it would be much worse. But you just haven't figured out your skills yet. Everything will be fine. You'll fight no worse than me, and maybe even better. Why not? By the way, have you ever fought with this very spear against a sword? No experience?

"It happened," Ned said briefly, "I killed the enemy."

- Hmm-m-m... if it's not a secret, who was it?

- Officer. It was a duel. They let me use a spear instead of a sword. It was a few days ago, at the base. It was a duel of honor. Sorry - I can't say more. This is an internal matter of the corps, the rules do not allow us to share information with civilians.

"I understand," the master drawled thoughtfully. "But you don't understand how lucky you are. If those blockheads knew what I know, they would never have let you even within a crossbow shot of a duel with such a spear! They simply didn't have a chance! Arrogant idiots… They should have insisted that you fight with a sword. And then… then you would have had a hard time. Your combat instructors managed to introduce confusion into your movements, teaching you to fight with a sword in a way that was different from what you were used to. And now we will have to break your habits and teach you all over again. Well, it's not the first time, so don't worry. That's enough for today. As soon as you buy training clothes and find time to practice properly, come. Did you take Zadar's paper? Aha. Let's go, we'll rescue your bag from captivity. I'm waiting for you, and soon."

* * *

Ned looked at the sky – the sun was still quite high, but was already setting. He grinned – time was flying by, like a cow from horseflies, with its tail up and its hooves kicking up dust on the ground… It seemed like he had just left the base, and now – evening was approaching.

Waving to the boy on duty standing at the school doors, he headed in the direction the master had advised, sighing as he put the heavy bag of books on his shoulder. To be honest, this accumulation of concentrated wisdom in the form of hefty and not so hefty volumes really got to him. And he still had to drag himself to the base with this bag!

The house of the master's friend was indeed not far away. Two-story, solid, slightly dilapidated - any house requires care, and if there are no hands to care for it, it quickly ages, turning into a peeling barn. From somewhere, creeping plants immediately appear, twining around it, like vines twine around trees in the jungle, trying to suck the life juices out of them. The garden is taken over by huge weeds, nodding their prickly heads to their less fortunate colleagues in the neighboring front garden. Roadside grass climbs through the cracks in the slabs of the paths, completing the destruction and showing that if a person disappears, nothing in this world will change. Flowers will bloom, grass will grow, and only a bird, sitting on the ruins of the house, will sing a funeral song for it ...

It hadn't come to complete ruin yet, but it was getting there. The fence had been painted a few years ago, and the gate, once strong and sturdy, was a little dry and creaked pitifully when Ned tried to open it. It was locked, so he had to punch it a few times, and then, when that didn't do any good, kick it a few times, sending crumbs, splinters, and bird droppings flying off the gate.

- I-I-I'm coming... I'm coming! Right now! - an old man's voice was finally heard, cracked like that of an ancient bell broken by vandals. - And don't knock like that! I'm not galloping around the house on a horse! I need time to get there. I'm not a little girl anymore! Don't you know that?!

The gate swung open with a squeal, but cautiously, as if whoever opened it was afraid it would fall off its hinges. A woman appeared in the doorway, completely grey-haired, but dressed as if she were going out – a formal dress, hat, shoes. Looking closely, Ned saw that everything was rather old, slightly faded, as if these things had been washed many times. However, the woman was very elegant, and it was obvious that she had once been a beauty. Ned wanted to listen to her thoughts, but changed his mind. What could he hear that he needed? And filling his head with old women's thoughts about illnesses and domestic fuss was stupid.

The woman's blue eyes were cheerful, and her wrinkled face was kindly and not at all like that of old women who have lost their minds. The woman was old, but clearly not stupid. This was clear from her very first words.

- And who is this knocking here? Oh, my gods! What a young man has come to see me! I hope you haven't come to rob an unfortunate old woman? However, what can you expect from me, except for this old house… - The woman smiled and looked her guest over from top to bottom. - What did you want, officer?

- Hmm-m-m... - Ned was taken aback, - actually, I didn't come to rob. I have a note from Master Tiraz.

– Gozar? How is he? I haven't seen him for a long time. Tell him it's not nice to forget old Zarada! However, don't. He has a lot to do, he teaches his boys, spends all day at school. People always bring him food, he never forgets about me. He was raised with my boys, my sons, and then they ran off to the capital, and he went into the army. He came back already gray-haired… He was gone for many, many years. But I recognized him at once, yes! I'm not out of my mind yet! What are we talking about here, come in! Lock the gate – the neighbor's boys have taken to climbing into the garden, they've broken off all the branches, the rascals. I need to tell Gozar to rein them in. Well, you're picking the fruit, but why are you breaking the branches? Give me the note, come on, come on, what is he writing there? Yeah... See what eyesight I have? Young people will envy me! No, it's too early to write me off like torn boots... so... Ned? Yeah, Ned... Well then, Ned, if you want, you can live in the house, or if you want, let's go, I'll show you another place. See, there, the guest house by the well? Yeah, that way. There... I hid the key here, under the porch. Come in!

The one-story house was a solid stone structure, surrounded by a garden overgrown with weeds and self-seeding flowers, sweetly scented in the chill evening air. A bird was singing in the garden, trilling, and Ned involuntarily took a deep breath, drinking in the clean, fresh air.

- Good, right? - the woman smiled. - That's why I didn't go to the capital, to the children, although they invited me many times. Sell the house and come. And where would I go from here? My whole life has been here. My husband died here. We were happy here, raised children, loved, suffered and rejoiced. And there? What's there? Who needs me there? The children send me money for living expenses, otherwise I'm not in poverty, but a lot of money is needed to keep the estate in order. They don't want to hear about restoring my father's inheritance. Apparently, they are waiting for me to die, and then they will sell the house. But I don't want to please them at all, I squeak and squeak. I've already outlived all my friends. And still alive! Once I was a beauty, and now... an ancient old woman.

"You look wonderful," Ned said sincerely, "you still are a beauty! I would never say that you are an old woman."

- There! At least one real man has appeared in this city! - the woman smiled. - Apart from Gozar, of course. All the other men are just some ill-mannered scum. Well, look at the house, look! If you don't like it, I'll show you the rooms in the big house.

Five rooms, a kitchen with a fireplace, a bathroom with a large copper bath covered with greenery. A bedroom with a large bed; Ned ran his hand over the bedspread - dust rose up, and the hostess sneezed loudly:

- Pchhi! No one has lived here for a long time. And once upon a time, guests would come to us all the time, whole families! And now - there is dust, desolation and melancholy everywhere.

"How much do you want for this house? How much should I pay for lodging?" Ned asked cautiously. Talk of financial difficulties made him a little wary - maybe the old lady would demand so much money that there would be nothing to talk about. In fact, he had no idea at all about the rent prices in the city and now he scolded himself for not finding out this information from Tiraz or finding out somewhere else on the side.

- Hmm... to be honest, I'm not very interested in money. I have everything. Everything I need, - said Zarada proudly, - just so that it wouldn't be completely stupid, a gold piece a month. Will that suit you?

"It will suit me," Ned sighed with relief, "it will suit me very well. I will probably live here for no more than two months, then we will be sent to war. And then... then I don't know what will happen. If everything works out, I will go to the capital to study to become a senior officer.

– Do you want to dedicate your whole life to killing people? – Zarada said sadly. – That's the same with Gozar… How we argued… I told him – it's a bad profession! Killing people is bad! And he – I'm not going to kill, I'm going to protect people! From enemies! Who's right? I don't know, maybe he is too. And my husband said the same thing. Okay. That's not the point. Anyway, we'll clean the house, wash all the sheets, put new ones on the bed. I have more than enough of this junk – sheets and bedspreads. We'll clean up, clean everything – right tomorrow morning. We'll clean up everything in the kitchen, polish the bathtub so it shines. Have you seen the fireplace in the bathroom? The boiler – you fill it from the well, light the stove, the water heats up. Coal and firewood are behind the house. We haven't lit the stove in this house for a long time. By the way, the bathroom is not simple. Lock the doors and you will get hot air, especially if you splash water on the stones that are on the stove. Steam is very good for your health. All illnesses come out. There is a bucket on a rope in the well. The water is clean, tasty, so you can drink it calmly. I am embarrassed to ask - what do you have in your bag? Are these all your things?

- No, - Ned smiled, - I bought some books, I'll read them. I still have a lot to learn about this world. I'm completely uneducated.

– Well… that will come with time. The main thing is that you are smart and have a kind heart. I feel it. And education… that's all nonsense. Well, I graduated from a higher school for girls of the highest aristocracy, the one in the capital, "School for Noble Maidens". By the way, it was there, in the capital, that I picked up my husband! – Zarada giggled. – He was a brilliant officer, just awesome! All the girls were running after him! And I stole him. So, well, I graduated from that school, and so what? It wasn't of much use in life. Especially in a backwater town, parasitizing on a military base. Well, yes, I know how to behave in society, I have excellent manners – they literally beat me with a stick, through my ass. They whipped everyone mercilessly. So my education worked on the women here like a red rag on a bull! "Educated! Ugh, really!" Officers' wives… that's a special story. A viper's nest! That's their exact description. A military town where majors' wives grovel before colonels' wives, and lieutenants' wives before majors' wives. Their own hierarchy. I insisted that we not live in a military town. My husband bought a house in the main city. I hate these sycophants. I have a man's character, as my late Cedar used to say. He was from an ancient, fairly well-known family of nobles, close to the former king. Then the family died out, and Cedar had to somehow get by. And he loved to spend his fortune beautifully. When you're a maiden, you like it when you're showered with roses and bathed in sparkling wine, but then, when you become a wife, it's already annoying. Especially if it's not you who's being bathed in wine...

- What, right in wine? A whole bathtub of wine? - Ned shook his head incredulously.

- You don't believe me? - the old woman laughed cheerfully. She dreamily raised her eyes and said quietly: - If you only knew how pleasant it is to feel the bubbles pinching your skin... and the smell of good wine! And these hot male lips, searching for your excited mouth, and... Anyway, you shouldn't listen to this! You're still too young! - the woman winked slyly. - And don't smile like that! Well, yes, I wasn't always very strict! So at least there's something to remember! By the way, if you want, you can bring women here. You are a young man, you need female affection. Otherwise, you can get sick. My husband always said that if he wasn't with a woman three times a week, he would definitely get sick. I had to turn a blind eye to some of his pranks. What can you do? Life is like that. Either you, as a smart woman, turn a blind eye to the fact that all men are lustful dogs, or... And there is no such thing as "or." Fools who do not understand this truth are quickly left alone. Anyway, if you have a girlfriend or bring some whore – no big deal. The walls of the house won't collapse from this, and the world won't turn upside down. He blushes… oh gods! At least one man I know blushes at the mention of whores! What kind of boy are you… although – a man. I've talked you into it, huh? Is it time for you to go to base?

- Well, yes... I mean, it's time to get to the base! - Ned suddenly remembered. - But otherwise, I find it very, very interesting and pleasant to be with you. Oh, and I wanted to ask you something else, you said, "WE'LL clean up," but who are "we"? I'll be busy in the morning, I won't be able to be here. I'll only be here by lunchtime... I need to pack my things, sort out a problem in the office.

- Silly, I didn't mean you! Would I really force a man to do a woman's job? - the woman laughed. - I have two slaves... or rather, they haven't been slaves for a long time. Former slaves. They are both servants and girlfriends. We have lived together for many years. Today I sent them to the shops - we needed to buy some things. And to go to the market. I thought it was them banging on the gate, and it was you. I opened it - without even asking. Anyway, we will have everything tidied up by the time you arrive. It will be clean and nice. By the way, where will you eat? When will you be here? Will you cook yourself or do you need a cook?

– I can do it myself… but I wouldn't like to waste time on it. If possible, have someone cook for me. I have so little time – I need to study at Tiraz's school, read books, and rest a little. At the base, I ate in the officers' mess, but here… I rent a house to study at Tiraz's, the school is just a stone's throw away. Otherwise, I would live in the barracks. And there's something else I wanted to ask… I don't even know how to say it… I don't know how to behave at the table. I'm a village orphan, and I'm very embarrassed that I don't know how an officer should behave. And I don't know how to dance. And… I don't know how to do anything. Except fight. Could you teach me some good manners?

- It's very good that you can fight! - laughed Zarada. - You'll be chasing boys out of the garden! And as for manners - I'll teach you. I have nothing to do anyway, it's boring. Just don't be offended when you get a dressing down from me! First of all - stop biting your nails! You just want to put your finger in your mouth when you're nervous! First of all, it's bad manners and a sign of a country bumpkin, and secondly, you're showing your nervousness, and an officer should keep his feelings in check and not show what he feels. Well... unless he's in bed with a lady. That's when it's better to SHOW how he feels. She'll be pleased... As for the cook - we'll come to an agreement. You'll allocate some money, they'll write you out food allowance instead of meals in the canteen, won't they? And they should allocate money for an apartment - you see, I know military life. Give it to me - I'll take what's needed for food and for the cook's work, nothing more. She'll look after you - clean, cook, wash and do the laundry. It's not proper for an officer to do all this himself - unless he's on a campaign. There - he does as he can. Here - he must rest.

- Can I leave the books here? The bag is weighing down my entire shoulder. And here's the thing... should I pay you now?

"As you wish," the woman waved her hand. "If you wish, now. Or if you wish, later. See for yourself, whichever is more convenient."

- Here are five gold pieces. Two for accommodation, and three for food and servants. When they run out, tell me. I'll give you more.

"Okay," Zarada agreed easily. "Go to the barracks, calmly pack your things, we'll expect you tomorrow for dinner. If you have any questions, don't be shy, ask. We'll need to bring you some flashlights here, how will you read? And it's unpleasant to sit in the dark. I'll give you the key to the gate now, let's go…"

They left the house, reached the gate, and Zarada took a long, patterned key out of the keyhole:

- Here, take this. It's a little stuck, so if you twist it a little, it'll work. I'll take another key. Go ahead, it's getting dark already. I'll wait for you tomorrow! And it'll be more fun for all of us... at least we have someone to worry about and something to discuss. Especially if you bring some girl; that'll be enough to talk about for a week! - Zarada laughed merrily and glanced sideways at the windows of the mansion, where the light was flickering. - There! They came and didn't even ask where I went! Just look at them, what scoundrels! I'll go and give them a dressing down! Servants, they call themselves! Scoundrels!

The old woman snorted and, waving at Ned, slammed the gate shut. He turned, his boots clicking on the pavement, and walked toward the base. Ned felt good, light, and calm in his soul. As if, guiltily paying his debt, fate had recently brought him together with very good people - Tiraz, and now Zarada. Ned really liked the woman, and again he regretted, like Zheresar, that he did not have such a mother. However, maybe she did, maybe she was even better - he does not know that...

The streets of the city were plunged into twilight. Lanterns were burning only in the very center, near the temples of the gods, the rest of the streets were covered with a dark blanket for the entire night. The windows of the houses flickered with the dim light of lanterns, but most of them were dark - people in the city went to bed early in order to get up earlier and waste less oil in their lanterns.

It was at least an hour's walk to the base, even at a fast pace, and he had time to think about everything that had happened to him today. Especially about the words he had heard from Master Tiraz.

Ned himself, with his own mind, came to what the master had told him, to what concerned the enchanted swords. But did he do it himself? After thinking about it, he came to the conclusion that he himself would never have been able to get to the truth, no matter how sad it was to admit it. Then how could he? And in general, what was happening to him? How did he turn from a simple shepherd into a man who had intelligent conversations with educated people?

Ned was smart enough to understand that a simple shepherd COULDN'T feel so free in the company of these people. For example, today he had quite a decent conversation with an aristocrat who had been brought up in a school for the children of courtiers. How did he do it? Where did he get his vocabulary? Why was he learning so quickly, as if he wasn't learning everything anew, but REMEMBERING? And where were HIS thoughts and where were the thoughts... of NOT his? And anyway - who was he now? A man? Yes, a man. Was he possessed by a demon? No. The demon would most likely have eaten him from the inside. Ned had seen what happened to those who had a demon inside them. Which, by the way, he had set in motion.

So, we can conclude: somehow the soul of a man who used to belong to the demonologists' sect ended up in it. Ned absorbed his skills, partly his memory, partly his knowledge... What else? Now here's where it gets interesting - if he completely absorbs the soul of this demonologist, his memory and knowledge, then who does he become? Certainly not Ned. But someone else. And if Ned fails to preserve his own soul in this body, then the alien soul will dissolve his consciousness, like hot chia dissolves a piece of sugar. And only chia will remain, slightly sweetened by what used to be this piece. Isn't this what the fortune teller was talking about?

Ned came to the conclusion that he needed to read books - it wasn't for nothing that he had collected so many books on magic? Another interesting thing. Today Ned unexpectedly UNDERSTOOD what was written in ancient runes on the blades of swords and spears. And this inscription read: "I conjure you, give me strength, O Winged Terror!"

How did he know the meaning of the inscription? Moreover, looking at the blade, today he was able to understand the meaning of several runes, as if he remembered what they were called and what they meant. And, frankly, it scared Ned. The penetration, the fusion of someone else's personality and his soul was happening more and more strongly. A week ago, he had no idea about the meaning of the runes and could not even imagine that he would learn the meaning of the inscription.

Ned passed by the familiar sign on the tavern, grinned and winked at the heavens - yes, Selera had played a joke today! The revenge of the gods can be so sophisticated that you can't even imagine! Why did he give Kualtuk more money than the goddess of love? Now he got the revenge of the goddess. Asked for love from a goddess? He got the love of a girl! It's good that Selera didn't hang the love of some monster on him. That would have been funny! Hey, hey - no need! Enough laughter! Ned shook his finger at the heavens - one love is enough! By the way, I wonder - will he go to Sanda tomorrow? Maybe he shouldn't? Not go, that's all. He was busy! On duty. And let her rest. Think. Maybe during this time the goddess of love will change her mind and aim this beautiful shark at another unfortunate man! And why the unfortunate man... as if he is not happy that a beauty has fallen in love with him. Don't lie to yourself - you dream of her going to bed with you. You sleep and see yourself stroking her tender body... hips... breasts...

Ugh! Throw it out of my head!

Without even noticing it, Ned had already reached the base gates and was surprised - the base was not asleep. There was a reinforced squad of Security guards at the gates, the passage was blocked by a heavy grate moving along guides. Torches were burning on the parade ground, people were moving - everyone was running, bustling, commands were heard, and this was already practically at night, when everyone should have been sleeping in their beds.

"What happened?" Ned asked, approaching the blocked passage to the base.

"Night maneuvers," the guard turned around, grinning from ear to ear. "The bosses are going crazy. They're acting up, not letting anyone sleep."

- Hey, be quiet! - muttered another guard and quietly added: - What are you talking about? He's the colonel's favorite! If he reports it, you'll get a beating. And a deduction from your pay. Do you need that? Move on, Ned, we have other things to do. We're pretending to repel an attack from the city. You're on leave, so rest, don't fuss. Go to your barracks.

"Let me go, and I'll walk!" Ned chuckled.

The guards, cursing and groaning, rolled back the heavy grating blocking the entrance. It rolled along metal rails and was so heavy that six guards could barely roll it back enough for Ned to squeeze through the gap.

- That's enough, you'll squeeze through! - shouted one of the guys, puffing with effort. - We still have to close it back. And I advise you: whether you're on vacation or not, get lost in your hole and don't show yourself to the boss. Otherwise, they'll definitely make you run around with everyone else. And as it is, it's like you don't know anything about maneuvers.

Ned, now a healthy soldier's cynic, did just that. He trotted and slid his way to the barracks, slipped past the guard standing at the entrance, watching the goings-on on the base, and carefully turned the key, opening the door to the room.

The attendant turned around only when the unlubricated door hinges creaked, letting in a guest, but, seeing no one in the corridor, he shrugged his shoulders and continued to watch as crowds of people with weapons at the ready clashed with a roar to add work to the team of doctors in the morning.

No matter how hard you try not to hurt anyone, no matter how you use blunt poles instead of sharp combat spears, there will still be broken bones, knocked out teeth, eyes and pools of blood. And often, people will be killed.

Soldiers, angry from lack of sleep, often get into a frenzy and beat up the "enemy" as if it were his fault that they were not allowed to sleep. Probably, the whole point of night maneuvers is to make the soldier as angry as possible, to awaken his fighting spirit, the soldiers reasoned. Or maybe - and most likely so - the commanders are nasty, stuffy goats who like to shit on people. In any case, everyone knew - they would not be able to sleep until the next night. Of course - no one would allow them to sleep during the day. Well ... except during the daytime rest, of course.