Immortalls. Princess Swan from the Golden Mountain

“And these are from us,” and Aragan brought his own gifts, a breastplate made of whalebone, pearls from the Dvina, “and this is a precious item, most valuable for any sorcerer,” and the sorcerer of Gandvik placed a bone knife with intricate carving among the gifts, “this is for Mika. It is crafted from the tooth of the Indrik Beast.”

“Your gift is very dear to us,” Rann genuinely thanked, bowing to Aragan, “we have another request,” and he sighed, “send word to Alatyr that we are coming. I do not understand the will of the gods — there was no summer, nor winter. And the bones do not fall right. Mika divined, but Ella did not answer her.”

“That’s bad news,” Aragan replied, his face darkening, shaking his head. “Go to the island,” he walked to a chest in the upper room, rummaged through it, and pulled out… — You will approach the harbor of Alatyr, raise this sign on a pole, they will understand and come ashore, meet you.

“Thank you, you don’t leave us without help, old friend,” Rann said, “and when the ailment attacked, and now.

“And you do not forget how many times barley was sent to Gandvik when it was difficult for us,” Aragan replied, “Good luck to you!”

— We need her, we really need her, “Rann replied, picking up gifts and moving away.

Back the Magi and his student walked quickly, without looking back, passed by two women with children, surprised by the rare guests here, especially at this time of year.

Goude and his revellers sat on the dock, near the vessel, waiting for them.

— We are ready, Rann, breathless from a quick walk, shouted to the feeder, adjusting the stray boot on his left leg.

“We fall off,” he shouted to Vatage, “get into the boat,” said the Magi and the student.

Lodya, like a black giant fish, slipped into the water, driven by the consonant blows of the oars’ blades on the water. The wind was fair, and Nimes saw how cheerful the unsmiling Gaud, holding the steering oar, was.

“Right, the sky itself helps you,” the feeder said.

— If so… — only whispered Magi.

And it is true that the Gulf of Ob passed in just three days, and ended up in the strait, where the huge Alatyr Ostrov was already visible, glistening with its icy peak. While they were walking by sea, they did not moor for the night, they were afraid of sharp rocks, and cunning currents under water and were in a hurry, they were afraid of the oncoming, north wind.

Rann stood on the bow of the vessel, unable to contain his impatience, seeing the ground approaching.

— Mentor, do we raise the pole with a sign? — shouted to Him, taking out the cherished bale.

— Well done, I reminded, — answered the magician, and unexpectedly quickly climbing over the benches, was next to the student.

His hands shook with impatience, and the frozen fingers could not cope with the knots of the rope tightening the bale.

“Come on,” Rann gasped, trusting Nim’s work.

The young man, holding the rope with the fingers of both hands, blushing from the onslaught, was able to loosen the knot, and finally pulled out the red cloth. He quickly inserted the crossbar into the holes of the red fabric, and raised the pole. A bright banner poured over the boat, visible from afar. The banner swayed in the wind, held by the strong hands of the novice, while the ship was approaching the coveted harbor, Rann had already seen a hut on the shore, a refuge for guests of the island.

Rowing only two merriers from each side, and four sailors jumped into the sea, holding on to the skin, Nimes felt the keel touch the bottom of the sea. Already eight waddlers supported the boat, pulling it ashore. Neame and Rann also stepped into the water, touching the pebble bottom with the soles of their boots. The novice never let go of the red banner, and walked to the shore, carefully moving towards the surf. Rann followed him, leaning heavily on a staff that went deep into the bottom at every step. Under the boat, the sailors put logs, and its wet sides were blown by the local inhospitable wind.

— Ould! — the feeder shouted to one of the sailors, — take something, but look at the stove in the hut. It would be necessary to flood.

“All right, Goude.

Vatazhnik nodded to one of the squad, and both quickly went to the hut. He stood there, holding a banner, the cloth of which fluttered in the wind. Finally, they saw six people wrapped in dark raincoats. Rann looked at them without looking up, and his eyes looked into the distance rather than up close.

— Already close… — whispered Rann, feverishly thought whether the Pryakhi themselves would come, or the novices would be sent.

Ahead, “as was customary,” was the unflappable Mara, with a bronze staff decorated with a pommel in the form of a tree. Three Chosen Ones, pupils and novices, Three of the Seven, followed her. Behind all were three Pryakh, or Harit, who called it. Everyone wore dark gray felt raincoats on top of ordinary dresses, Pryakh had such raincoats black. Everyone covered their heads folds of raincoats, tightened with cords. The place was not hot, and such an outfit was quite good for the northern island.

Nimes stood in front of everyone, trying not to stare too much at the inhabitants of the sacred place, and then Rann stepped forward, bowed low, and waved his hand. The sailors carried out lari and bales with gifts, and three bags of grain were placed next to them.

— I’m called early, — the messenger spoke with a high syllable, — I brought gifts as a sign of honor, because I was sent to ask you, breaking your unity, I would like to ask for mercy, what to do, and how should we be?

Mara already looked without rigor, turned to the Spices, and looked again at the Stiag. Three black figures, more like the trunks of old trees, suddenly nodded barely noticeably, and came forward. The novices put them folding chairs, and moved seven steps back.

“What are you asking for, Rann?” said the Tutor.

— I ask you to spread the bones, we need to know the will of the gods. It is not clear what is being done with the Earth Circle. There was no summer, winter too, and spring is like winter… And there is no warmth, and there is no cold identity, — he spread his arms, — Mika wondered, — he added, and in response Mara smiled and nodded, remembering the novice, — the bones did not speak to her, — he finished quite quietly.

Mara got up, went to the magi, looked intently into his eyes, frowned and lowered her head.

— Right you say that bad thing… — and she turned to the students — leave us.

Mara approached the Pryahs, they surrounded her and listened for a long time, finally, three of them approached Rann, at once throwing the cloaks from their heads, exposing unexpectedly young faces.

— Are you ready… — beginnings alone

— Find out that…

— What do Gemini want to say? — finished the third.

Rann could only nod his head, and took up his staff even more firmly. Mara brought a low table and a cherished leather bag, a little thundering at every step.

One of Pryakh rolled up her sleeves, exposing heavy twisted gold bracelets on her hands, shook the bag several times, then another approached her, opening the bag, and the third began to stretch the bones and lay them out on the table. Rann’s heart was ready to jump out of his rib cage, pounding often, often as he saw a woman’s hand folding the fate of his people. First three, then three, and three more. Only nine, no more, and no less, all that the gods could tell them.

— Listen, Magi:

And the sun went away, hiding in clouds,

And the cold could not come forgetting,

The sixth between you, lives proud.

Rann only exchanged glances with Nim, not understanding, feverishly remembering all those living around, in their city and villages of Ouma.

— I can’t understand, Pryakhi. How do you find her if she doesn’t want to show up? After all, it is impossible not to recognize her — and he, remembering all the legends, touched his face, lips — how can she hide among people?

“She will reveal herself,” all three spoke in one voice, “Ella will help. but be careful if it’s good, no one will tell you.

“Thank you for your help,” the magician bowed low.

— Wait here for two days, — said Pryakhi, we will send the sacred Fire with you, in two days the Festival of the Spring Equinox.

“It’s an honor for us.

Pryakhi and Mara left the shore, and in the distance they were met by Novices. Rann and Nimes returned to Vataga, came to a warmed hut. The vatazhniki flooded the bathhouse, and six went to wash off the mud and cold of the long trip, others were waiting for their turn. Rann, Nimes, Goud and two other sailors came to the already hot steam room, sat on the benches, and felt the long-awaited warmth.

“Feeder, the Messenger with the sacred fire will sail with us to the mainland,” Rann said, “we will be able to go to sea only in two days.”

— All right. A great honor to bring the Holy Fire to Gandwick, — answered Gaud, pouring hot water, — a good bath here… ‘the feeder added, smiling rather.

— All right… — agreed Rann, — and there is a fuel stone here.. — he said, turning the embers into the hearth with a poker. — Apparently, they brought from Grumant.

— Probably, where else? Found nowhere else. — added Gaud.

He sat and kept quiet. He had not yet passed the art, and could not contradict the Teacher.

The next day passed unnoticed, it was impossible to walk far, Nim walked next to the hut, and looked at the cold waves hitting the shore, turned over the stones on the shore with the toe of his boot.

— Do you want to walk further, Nimes, — asked Rann, grinning, and nodding towards the mountain, the monastery of the Chosen, — or maybe get into the Tract of Virgins?

— That is, this is not a fable, about the Virgins of the Island?

— No, thirty Virgin Islands, this is not a legend. The best archers, — answered Rann, — Nim, look, Mara comes to us with a novice.

And exactly, the Mentor herself was approaching with the student, and a dog ran after them.

“Hello Rann,” Mara said first, “and Nim to you.” The spinners decided that Nimes would pass the art here. Do you want to pass the test, Apprentice?

“Teacher?” Nim turned to the Magi, and he nodded his head back, agreeing with Mara’s words.

— Yes, of course — the young man blushed with joy — what should I take with me?

“Let’s go,” the woman replied.

***

Watazhniki prepared the boat for sailing, this time standing firmly near the pier, with a loaded scarb. The fire in the hut was extinguished, saving the shelter for other guests. Rann stood next to the feeder, looking at the cherished path, waiting for the Holy Fire and his novice, and now, possibly, also became initiated into the sacraments by the magi. So, the procession appeared. Ahead was Mara, followed by the six Chosen, and behind them they carried a stretcher with sacred fire enclosed in a clay vessel braided with a vine. One of the porters was Nîmes. unusually proud of this honor, a tall girl carried the load with him, judging by the outfit, one of the Chosen Ones.