bannerbanner
Defunct. Epic battle of neuralink
Defunct. Epic battle of neuralink

Полная версия

Defunct. Epic battle of neuralink

текст

0

0
Язык: Английский
Год издания: 2021
Добавлена:
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля
На страницу:
4 из 8

– Call me the king! He boomed in a terrible voice. – What is this demon? Human speeches are heard. The servants standing at the high front gate went inside.

«My lord, he has arrived. Waiting for you on the street, – one of the guards reports to an elderly, long-haired, gloomy man, in a blue checkered shirt, with lush, puffy shoulders like pillows and a gold brooch around his neck.

– Is he really alone? – asked the old man, putting on a crown in the form of white crystals and a red cap with a yellow circle in the middle and outgoing lines depicting the sun. The soldier silently nodded his head.

«Tell Mandalis to keep the garrison troops on alert in both directions.

«Yes, my king,» the soldier ran away.

A minute later, the gray-haired, bearded ruler went out into the street. He squinted from the blinding sun, trying to see everything around him. Seeing him, an unknown person in a black robe, confidently went to the meeting. Climbing the soft colored carpet that stretched through all the steps, his wildly bulging eyes could be seen through the eye sockets. When he met the old man, he bent down slightly, resting his hand on his chest.

– Governor of Shelber, for what purpose did you come to us? The king asked him.

– Greetings, lord of the Osiris, wisest of kings. I, Aprod Rift, have come to you at the request of the Most High Governor Shelber Daligen. We need to discuss some political issues regarding the safety of the city.

– Well, let’s go to my meeting room, – the King nodded to the guard and went inside. The visiting ambassador followed him through long corridors. Closing in a small room, they sat down at a round table, which stood at the very window. The old man took off the crown and placed it in front of him. Taking a handkerchief from his chest pocket, he wiped his damp face. – What do you want? He asked, scratching the back of his head. – This month, we paid tribute to Bil Hamhharaf, regularly pay taxes to the temple of Selim and did not violate any agreement between the Nahmau and the Osiris.

«Keep calm, oh great king. I haven’t started the conversation yet, and you are already making excuses. It doesn’t suit you. Vayelon’s people are in great danger. Rohvem wants to completely destroy the city, fearing your power. Even though they are our brothers, we will not allow this madness. The forest of the dead in the southern valley has taken too many people from Fimirel to hell, and our people disappear on Shelber’s mushroom paths. Nahmau are having their worst times. It’s hard to seem like heroes when our own kings left us at the mercy of Jerichan leprosy. Envy, flying up to heaven Vayelon, turned the heads of the governors and priests. We decided to take control of one of the city councils. Whether it is the council of the wisest or the council of the elders, I am obliged to lead this branch within a week. Deliver this to your subjects. Having learned that I am in power, Makhtum will not dare to attack his brothers. Otherwise, he will unleash a senseless war with Shelber.

– It all looks like some kind of competition, – the tsar looks menacingly into his face. – Who from Nahmau will capture the Osirian capital faster. So our obedience is no longer enough for you? Has it ever occurred to you that our people can resist wicked envious people? Fists clenched tightly, his face twitched nervously. – And then, we ourselves are already looking at the lands around us. Living in the occupation of a greedy, dying people is not so exciting.

«You shouldn’t call my people greedy. In that case, let Biel decide your fate. The countdown has already started. You will not be saved by the numerous hordes of mortals, from the ruthless creatures of Rohvem. – Taking out a scroll from his mantle, the governor handed it to the king. – Read this and pass it on to the council. Dahligen’s own appeal. Perhaps it will convince you more than my words. – Getting up from his chair, Aprod left the palace.

Sitting on his soft, wonderful throne, upholstered with the skin of a Nile crocodile, with a sparkling ornament on the upper part of the back, leaning his elbows, King Ormon hung his head thoughtfully. At the long table of the council of the elders, he carried a great deal of weight. And, in today’s discussion, as a result of controversy and disagreement, supported the side of the envoy from Shelber, but the council did not approve of this position.

«My years are passing,» he raised his bushy eyebrows sadly. «And I don’t see a decent youth capable of ruling Vayelon. I have spoiled my children too much. The elders are already forty years old, but they are all helpless children. I propose, to the council, to introduce a new position in the department that is temporarily fulfilling my duties.

– We are not against such a position, but it should be occupied exclusively by a local, – the senator, sitting somewhere in the middle, waves his index finger. – For example me. To give power to a stranger, and even to some governor from Shelber… we will not allow!

– Well, calm down, – the king raised his hands, trying to calm down the shouting advisers. – In a week, we have to give an answer. Collect troops. Our answer is war.

Dark clouds were gathering in the sky. Peals of thunder and striking lightning fell right into the tower of the majestic temple of Selim, in the deserted city of Fimirel. Abandoned stone cottages surrounded a single residential structure stretching to the very heavens. Gloomy, dark building. This dizzying cone-shaped structure is even taller than the skyscrapers of Vayelon. And, most importantly, it moves. Each floor, like a huge disk, in the form of a semicircle, planted on top of each other, slowly revolves around its axis. And at the top, segments of a sharpened fiery roof. It glows bright orange. With the help of kinematics and changing color rendering, the illusion of flowing lava is created. No wonder this tower got the name – Volcano. Queen Fimirel Bil Hamhharaf lives here. An insidious witch who for the sake of power killed her father, and then her brother. She hates men, and therefore killed her son in order to make her daughter the receiver of power. Even all members of the council, in Fimirel, are exclusively women. The only man in the entire Rohvem Valley who can argue with the distraught ruler is High Priest Makhtum. He heads the most important common shrine of the Nahmau. This is the divine, first common religious temple of Selim – Birhatten, and, according to the law, no one has the right to take away the power of the chief priest over the spiritual community. Initially, this temple was built as a palace for the kings of Rohvem, even before the Fimirel tower appeared. But, the building turned out to be too chic, breathtaking, in a word, grandiose. Such a large-scale and magnificent complex that the then ruler Mastakh thought that only gods should live there, and decided to transfer the building to the clergy. A couple of centuries later, when the ideology of the «Law of Svurt» was popularized, the temple was slightly rebuilt, made it even larger and more fantastic, suitable for all spiritual levels. It is strange that the greedy queen did not even try to take possession of this building, because it is several times more beautiful than her palace. Perhaps, she still had some kind of upbringing, and respect for faith, otherwise, if she were blinded by power by a naive dictator, she would have been overthrown by her own advisers and caretakers. Hatred of the opposite sex, the future queen accumulated from childhood. A talented girl has always been ignored and not taken seriously. Her father called any of her suggestions nonsense, although he himself ultimately accepted them and said that these were his brilliant ideas. Now, the touchy lady hates all men in the world, and even her wife Liger is afraid of unpredictable passion and crazy fanaticism, having long planned to escape from the city, to the neighboring village of Dagbu, following the rest, adequate residents.

Today is the brightest night the Knight Masod has ever seen, standing at the farthest outpost of Vayelon. After feeding his horse, he quickly went to the tent to hide from the beginning of the downpour. A strong wind has risen. The catapults standing in the field rolled towards the fire and almost caught fire. The horses whinnied in fright. Two thousand people, already on alert for the second week, on the southern border of the Osiris, tirelessly watch the rugged terrain of Rohvem. Grabbing an earthenware pot, the guardsman began to have supper, quickly eating flour cakes with berry filling. The comrades sat closely with each other, telling different stories. Suddenly, outside there were the shouts of the guards. – Everybody out! Faster, faster! Under construction, under construction! Stand in front of your tents! General Mandalis has arrived!

– What’s happening? Does the general show up in the middle of the night, in such terrible weather, without warning? – Masod goggled eyes, barely chewing on another pie. He carefully pulled back the curtain, peering through the small window of his tent. «Move your ass, guy,» his comrades hurried out into the street. There was complete confusion. It was not just his retinue who came with the general. With him came an army of at least five thousand people in full combat readiness.

– Roll up camp, prepare your horses and sharpen your arrows! – shouts the commander of the outpost. By the decision of the council, in a day, we move forward to capture Fimirel and liberate the Osirian villages.

Delight appeared in Masod’s confused eyes. Under a raging downpour, in the middle of the night, for the first time he felt the greatness of the army gathered here, and his irreplaceable, great role in the fate of an entire people. Gaining strength, the warriors, as it should, slept for the last time. In the morning, two knights gathering brushwood in the vicinity of the camp noticed movements in the distant bushes and reeds, a swampy peat land.

– Hey you, stop!! – Shouted one of the soldiers to a black, human silhouette, moving behind the tall grass. – Come here, or I’ll come to you myself! – he unbuttoned the cover and took out his blade, with a decoratively curved blade and a chopping handle. «Wait, don’t get excited,» his partner stopped him, grabbing his shoulder. «It’s just an old priest. He doesn’t hear you. He picks berries, I guess. Leave the poor man. – How do you know that this is a priest? – he was indignant, pushing his friend aside. «Maybe the spy from Fimirel changed his clothes. We are obliged to check, – having run up to the very hummock, surrounded by impassable thickets, they have not found anyone. At the same moment, screams were heard from the camp. «It’s begun,» the soldier muttered to himself. – What started? – his partner is perplexed. – Savages, attacked again. Acadian and Sumerian tribes, admirers of ancient traditions, along with the Nahmau, consider these lands cursed. During the time that we are here, they have already persuaded us three times to get out of here, in response our commander only laughed. The turn has come to answer for our stubbornness, – with a smile, he twisted his long spear and ran towards the screams.

The battle unfolded. Hundreds of wild hunters, calling themselves «blackheads,» hunted down the generals’ troops that had come that night. Reinforcements came to the Sumerians from the north. They are superstitious Acadians with three leaders at their head. The Osiris, organized a tactful defense, under the command of General Mandalis himself, who is also a member of the council of the wisest in Vayelon. The victory was won with minimal losses, however, this event disrupted all the plans of the command. Having sent messengers to the city, with the news of an immediate offensive, the general did not wait for the coming of night. An impressive army of seven thousand people at that time, crossed the borders of Rohvem and moved in the direction of Fimirel. Black silhouettes, again crawling in the reeds. When the soldiers directed their arrows at them, warning of an attack, they were frightened and jumped out of the nasty, seething quagmire.

«You can’t get through here,» one of them creaks in a hideous voice with a terrible accent. It was Sabarets. A representative of an almost completely extinct ancient people. They were called Sabars by Osiris. This word means «transparent heads», which was true. They are so different from other people that their organisms do not coincide with the general human DNA. The processes on the coccyx, which they can even wiggle, indicate the presence of full-fledged, albeit short, tails. With blisters and black abscesses all over his face, he was certainly not a priest of the great temple. These creatures worship their unseen gods. The Sabarian people are not aggressive, but disgusting. Selfish and rebellious. Even the greatest kings of Mesopotamia could not conquer them. The longer you look at these people, the more you get the impression that they are not people at all, but some other, peculiar kind of mammals. Bald, wrinkled heads, with transparent skulls, seem eerie, twisted in shape. And their terrible wrinkles. They, like protruding fatty discs, run like a ladder across the entire face and neck, merging with the chin. Completely blue eyes, without pupil and eyesore, with which they perceive not all colors. But, these are not freaks. These are their genes. Burns and blisters, of course, are not from birth. These are various diseases and scars from their difficult lifestyle. In long, dirty shirts and village bast shoes, six fornicators bowed before the Osiris, promising to help them. But, is it worth believing these geeks, when it has already been historically proven that they completely lack the instinct of self-preservation. «Oh, great commander,» they began to communicate with the general. «You shouldn’t go through these swamps. No wonder the blackheads are so alarmed. We also lost a lot of our brothers there. Be so kind as to go around this strip of evil from the east. Just ten kilometers from here.

– Don’t worry, buddy, our troops are already going that way, as well as from the western direction. Or did you think we would only strike with one group of troops? «If we were savages like you, we might have done so. But, we know things like strategy. Here, take the money, and get out of my way, – he threw a tied bag of coins at the feet of the elderly Sabarians, and the column moved forward. Having overcome a small ditch and a bog, the soldiers figured out a passage in an ancient wall lined with stones, which was completely covered with moss. This wall stretches for tens of kilometers, from the eastern to the western forests of Rohvem. The primitive masonry is not at all high. Two meters, and in some places even lower. They say that once it was three times higher, it just sank into the swampy soil.

– As far as I know, this wall was built for some religious reason. – Riding a horse, the commander of the outpost unhurriedly gallops next to the general’s carriage, sheathed in camouflage. – He, silently, smiled, and thoughtfully stared at the horizon. Before them was an endless field. The green grass was not so damp and tall anymore. The ride has become much easier and faster. The ground is more replaced by stones, with rarely sticking out blades of grass. But there are no ravines or hillocks. Absolutely flat field, on which you can already gallop. The foot of the infantryman stumbled on a snag sticking out of the ground. This is a broken, through and through rotten wooden log, which has been lying here, perhaps, for more than one hundred years. Throwing it aside, the soldier cleared the way for the carriages passing by behind. It must have been some kind of signpost before. There, to the side, a couple of meters away from the log, lay an inconspicuous flat stone heaped on its side. On it, in the Nahmaut language, only three words are carved: «The forest that does not exist.» Without changing the route and speed of movement, the convoy continues to go south. The grass and leaves underfoot are already completely dry. As if it had never rained here in my life. Jumping out of his capsule-shaped iron carriage, Mandelis suddenly stopped the troops. Holding the map firmly in both hands, he peered into one place. His hands shook.

– Who made these routes? – in anger he crumpled the yellow paper and threw it away. Suddenly, he is attacked by a pack of wolves. Two beasts jumped out from under the chariot, and three more rushed from the front. – Take them away! – with screams he climbs back into the carriage. The soldiers reacted quickly, drawing their bows, covering the hungry predators with arrows out of nowhere. One wolf managed to grab the general’s leg before he hid in the cart. He furiously tore at his snakeskin boot, and, continuing to clench his jaws, jerking his head from side to side, with a loud, murderous growl, he tore a piece of flesh from his calf muscle, until as many as five arrows flew into his spine, at the same time. Having stopped the bleeding, the doctors forbade the general to go outside, except when it was necessary to relieve himself. Observing this from the side, the commander of the camp outpost was no less shocked. How the soldiers in front could overlook the approaching predators. As many as six horsemen and two carts go ahead of the general. Nevertheless, the general decided to continue the movement of the troops straight ahead, which is not surprising in the trailer. Before getting on the horse, the outpost commander picked up the crumpled map from the ground and carefully straightened it, trying not to break it. This is a reliable map compiled by experts from Vayelon, including himself. Rohvem Valley on a scaled-down scale. He quickly found his bearings and, frowning, began muttering to himself. In the same place, between the western and southern forest belt, a continuous deciduous forest was designated, which was named as «the cemetery of the army of General Mandelis.» Maybe it was signed by some soldier with a bad sense of humor. Having saddled the horse, the commander continued to move next to the cart. Dry leaves rustled more and more under the wheels and horses. The sounds got louder, but they got smaller. Every creak of the wagon is heard, every step, and even breathing can be heard. The sounds of an owl and a toucan knocking on wood. The sounds of snorting donkeys. Stop. Where, in an open field, the sounds of a knocking toucan? owls? leaves under your feet? The commander got goose bumps all over his body when he realized this.

«The Forest of the Dead,» burst out of his mouth. – He exists. My heart was pounding wildly. The painful general was no longer so concerned about their problems. He moaned quietly in his carriage, thinking more about his leg. Masod, an ordinary horseman, rode on horseback in front of everyone. At one point, his animal just stopped, stubbornly unwilling to continue moving.

– But! Let’s go! – sitting on horseback, he kicks in the sides of the stubborn stallion. Nearby horses and mules stopped at the same place. They reared up on their hind hooves, circled in place, but in no way, did not go forward. Unable to bear it, Masod jumped off the mule, and stroked his face, trying to calm him down. «He’s afraid of something,» he began to look around the soldiers warily. – Here, just what? – looking in front of him, he noticed bones on the ground. A bunch of bones. The bones of animals, people, they were everywhere. Walking a little forward on his own, the soldier grimaced and instinctively gripped his blade tightly. The fetid smell of decomposition hit him sharply in the nose. Vomiting involuntarily escaped. During his life, he has seen a lot of rot, on the battlefields, but such rottenness, he has never felt before. «I know why the horses stopped,» he turned to his companions. But, they were not. The entire column was gone! Frightened, as if from an electric shock, he jumped back, bulging his bloodshot eyes. Bin Magur?! Halley! – in a panic he calls out the names of his friends. Where a column of seven thousand Vayelon warriors should have been, stood a couple of burnt trees that had just emerged. Their black, charred branches froze in frightening silence. Looking closely, he realized that these rare trees stood everywhere, to the very horizon. For the most part, these were some chopped off trunks. Without a single branch, tall, black, burnt from roots to tops. This is what a forest looks like after a fire. White bones clatter under his feet. Removing the blade from the casing, he desperately cut down the only branch of the tree nearest to him. The earth shook. It was like a tree felt his blow. There were terrible groans. These are the sounds of howling people and roaring animals, replaced by distant laughter, strange muffled rumble and creak. Throwing away his weapon, he clutched his head. It seemed to him that it was happening inside his head, and now it will simply explode. There were even more dry leaves under my feet. They, like a yellow blanket, completely covered the surface of the earth. A thick fog was approaching from all directions, from afar. It’s like a snow storm enclosed in a ring, windless and silent, densely enveloping the entire horizon. – It must be a dream? – Sadly sour face, Masod froze standing still. But no. All the horror was waiting for him ahead. Walking around a small area in a circle, the young warrior completely faded. Seeing that the terrain was completely repeated, he grabbed his face with his hands, desperately collapsing to the ground.

That is why it is impossible to get out of here. On this day, the foggy, endless forest happily took into its arms, the souls of twenty-five detachments, the southern corps of General Mandalis. The Forest of the Dead has been known for its anomaly since antiquity. Many elders tried to find out what was happening there with people and animals. But this remains a mystery. Some say that two hundred years ago, Selim Svurt himself, the king of Shelber, who fled to Rohvem from the curse of his lands, got lost here. To find a way out, he decided to burn the forest, and accidentally burned down himself, sending damage to the once beautiful, fertile lands. But, the soul did not leave his body, and even being a burned corpse, with the help of unprecedented strength, he got out of the forest. Now, those who have died there also come to life and wander in search of a way out. But, no one else found a way out. Because, as it does not exist, as there is no forest itself. This point of view is vehemently denied by the priests of the temple of Selim. They even execute those who spread it. Others believe that this is a portal to another dimension that appeared in this place by accident. The curse of the Rohvem Valley is the main problem of the residents living here. The problem is that the boundaries of the dead forest are constantly expanding. About five kilometers a month, having swallowed entire villages of the Nahmaut, Sumerian and Sabarian tribes over the decades.

He is ready to ascend to the throne. His hands, in smart plate, steel gloves, with mosaic, colored inserts on the outside, are trying to pull out the fasteners on the back of his head, holding this eerie stone mask. Shiny fingers, with pointed humps on each phalanx, cannot find the shutter mechanism. The same carriage stopped at the same place, in front of the steps of the main palace. Only, this time, she was met by the entire royal delegation. Having failed to press the latch, he tore out a thin, iron pin from his skull and threw off this helmet-shackles, which is an obligatory attribute of the governors leaving for foreign lands. With a low bow, the doors were opened for him, and he went out into the square surrounded by people. To the music of the singing choir, the leaders and elders left his path in trepidation. As he climbed the steps, his long, cloak of thin, interconnected, differently shaped gold plates slowly developed in the wind. A tall man, with curly black hair combed back, stopped in front of the entrance and turned around. His face was as pale as a toadstool, and his blue veins were shining through. Brown eyes and a neat flat nose. Today Aprod Rift is awaited as a savior. And he arrived at the last moment, with serious intentions.

– Fimirel’s army is approaching, – the disappointed king Ormon approached him. – Our defense will not withstand the attack of even a handful of sabars. Hurry, my friend. Now, the fate of fifty thousand people is in your hands.

– You have fifty thousand people, and there is no one to fight? – Aprod was surprised.

«They are not warriors. Neither I nor the council of elders will allow you to engage civilians in this battle. We have two thousand soldiers led by General Beleba. We must commit a heroic deed, hold out until the arrival of seventeen detachments of the southern army, about twice as many as us. They will just attack from the rear. «This means that we will have six thousand soldiers at our disposal. It’s not all that bad, «Rift smiled. «Fimirel’s army is not that large, but it is more capable. When will the southern army arrive?

На страницу:
4 из 8