Текст книги "Eric (СИ)"

Автор книги: Марина Шпак

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Lenzburg Castle met them with a vile, small rain. Careful Rudolph immediately ordered to feed the guy, and he drove off somewhere. Apparently, to report the arrival of the "valuable cargo". The further Artem went into his game, the more he began to dislike him. An unpleasant premonition tormented him. Only came to his senses after the injury, as he was dragged into an extremely dangerous adventure, probably dynastic. On the one hand, it was good, because to have a noble lineage in the Middle Ages meant to be a person, not a garbage. On the other hand, the relationship inside those seeds was extremely bloodthirsty – to slaughter his own son because of suspicion of trying to take away the throne was quite normal and ordinary. Well at least, do not stick to him about his Latin – the fact is that the servants in the castle turned to him out of habit in his, on the bird's, and he answered them in Latin. They probably thought that he was conceited or mocking them. It was funny that they recognized him, especially those two gay girls from the kitchen, they already squealed with delight when they saw him. Having eaten, he took a seat on the bench and decided to take a nap. Just did not get to sleep, because he was awakened by a messenger who suggested following him. Artem rubbed his eyes, stretched and yawned, followed the messenger, who led him to the big hall. They waited for him. In addition to Rudolph, there were seven other people, one of whom was sitting on an imposing chair from the far end of the table. The rest were scattered around the room: who was sitting at the table, who was by the fireplace, who was walking along the massive tapestry. Seeing the man who entered Artem, the man, who was seated from the end of the table, rose and with a cheerful face went to embrace him. Later he was introduced as Karl von Lenzburg, the baron of these lands. It is necessary to clarify the fact that the barony was formed quite recently. Uncle Carl's uncle Ulrich IV was the last representative of the count's house in Lenzburg, and, after his death in 1173, he bequeathed his possessions to the Emperor Frederick I Barbarossa, with whom he walked together on the second crusade. However, the castle with the land very quickly passed into the hands of the noble house of Cuburg through the acquisition of the allodial right to flax and the marriage of noble Richinza von Lenzburg, daughter of Ulrich IV, with Count Harman III von Kuburg. Initially, it was decided to use the seneschal to manage new lands, but he did poorly in his work because of uncontrollable and deft larceny. Old Harman was merciful and closed his eyes to it. However, when in 1180 after the death of his father Ulrich von Kubourg received a count of dignity, it was decided immediately to create a vassal barony in order to improve the effectiveness of management in these lands. Yes, and my mother's relatives were sitting on their neck for a long time – it's not a sin for them to work. Therefore, the brothers Charles and Henry were made from knights in the barons of von Lenzburg and received in joint management part of the land of the old county – the castle with the surroundings and the eight villages that are enclave, near the abbey of Munster. One misfortune – once amicable brothers fiercely hated each other and began to struggle for complete control over the ball. What they did not do, but the Count was inexorable – he was amused by their scuffle because of the scrap of what he threw at them. Well, that same Karl von Lenzburg turned out to be his own uncle, and therefore his radiant face did not inspire confidence at all, and Artyom tensed, expecting a dirty trick. Fortunately, the beloved relative tolerated Latin quite tolerantly, so their conversation did not cause any special problems – a quiet sweet talk with the family. Our hero was curious to see in the eyes of the interlocutor an uncovered desire to kill him, who fought with prudence, since such matters need nevertheless to be done more accurately. Therefore, he laughed heartily, squeezing out of himself all the available courtesy, cynicism and sarcasm. After sitting a little in the hall and chatting, they, at the invitation of the baron, with an escort from the faithful companion-Rudolph, went into the depths of the castle. Erica was very uneasy when they began to descend the spiral staircase to some kind of dungeon. But I tried to hold on, because immediately they did not zmordovali, then they will not, that is, they want something else. After descending, they fell into a long corridor, poorly consecrated by smoky torches. It was hot and stuffy, everyone began to sweat profusely. Passing almost to the end, the uncle went to the door and the key that hung on his belt, opened the lock. Inside, on the straw, sat a youthful middle-aged woman. Her green dress was somewhat rustic, but still spoke of the high status of the hostess, since peasant women did not wear such a dress-they could not afford it. The woman's eyes widened at the sight of our hero, she wanted to rush to him and hug him, but Karl hit her with a boot under his breath, so that she fell to the floor and, bending down, began to catch air.

" Here, look, nephew. "This is Berta – your mother. Do you recognize her?

" Uncle, I told you that I lost my memory. "I do not recognize anyone at all. But if she is my mother, then why are you beating her?

"This dirty beast hired assassins to kill your father, and she remained regent in front of you. "

It's stange You said that my brothers and sisters were killed, and I myself miraculously survived.

– It's all because this rubbish found bad performers, and they got carried away too much. They went so far as to even wound her.

"What are you talking about, you dirty pig! " The woman snarled, a little away from the blow.

aboutA bird's voice cracked. Said the uncle joyfully and, not in the least embarrassed, approached her closer, hit his face with his boot, pulled up his skirts and raped. Erica clearly led Rudolph, choosing such a position to neutralize and twist the guy, if he decides to do some rash acts. Yes, and for the reaction he watched, whether he does little to pretend and lies about losing memory. When my uncle finished, corrected the bre and kicked a couple of times to prevent the unhappy foot in the stomach, Artem asked:

– And why is this presentation?

– Heh. Nephew, you must learn how to deal with fallen women. She betrayed her husband, and therefore no longer needs to be respected. She is now a nothing, devoid of everything. Even life. She will be hanged at the gate of the castle, when she begins to disperse from suffering, so that everyone will see what happens to such wives.

" And Rudolf? "He was tense as a predator before a decisive leap.

– Noticed? Well done! Will come of you good. Even if you do not lose memory, it has changed a lot, it pleases. Here, – he turned to his comrade-in-arms, – see what my remarkable nephew is growing.

" Yes, I'm not smart for years. " – And they both laughed. And similar views with a visit to the camera were repeated more than once. He beat her, broke her bones, raped her. With the bones, he acted carefully, so as not to kill or strongly not to ruin by chance, and so he tried to inflict maximum pain on her with minimal damage. And every time these executions were obliged to attend our hero accompanied by Rudolph, who, from that very evening in the tavern, followed him literally on the heels, except that he did not go to sleep in an embrace.

From the hall, Eric went to his room. The next two days he spent in walks around the castle, going to the kitchen and a healthy dream. When he managed to escape from his eyes, he mastered his body, as his physical abilities were unclear for him. He jumped, pressed, pulled, tried to work with heavy objects and so on. This idyllic picture was only occasionally interrupted by campaigns to an unhappy woman, who was waiting for another portion of torture and bullying. The farther it went, the more Eric, it seemed that this most venerable uncle Carl himself ordered his brother with the whole family to remain the sole ruler. Forgive me, but this confusion with the names is completely unbearable, so in the future I will call Artem Eric, especially since all those around him believe so. On the third day, our hero, accompanied by a small retinue, advanced towards the generic vault of the Lenzburgs, which stood next to Halvilli Lake, to bury the relatives killed by hired assassins. Everything went quite calmly. They spent the night in a small tavern at the abbey. There he overheard the conversation of the peasants about what miracles are happening in these glorious lands, as the rumors of Karl's open and unconcealed joy, from the meeting of his living nephew, have already reached the enclave. Did he decide to give up his interests, of which he never made a secret? Business Alas, but there was no special mind to understand why Uncle so carefully met our hero. He was thinking of some combination, in order to wash himself off from fratricide in front of the count. And in this combination, an important role was assigned to Eric. The most obvious will be to write it off at a monastery or send it to a crusade. Itself is voluntary, because he is an intelligent guy and understands what he lacks goodwill. And then assign the rights, according to the will of an accidentally deceased, from some kind of fever or chronic constipation of the nephew, and get the desired flax into a complete and undivided possession. Therefore, all the way back to the castle, our newly crowned hereditary baron thought out ways to escape. In fact it is necessary to run with mind, and that will catch up and will make something terribly unpleasant. And then again catch up Returning to the castle, they made a ritual of visiting poor Bertha, who was once again raped and beaten, and then climbed into the hall for dinner. At the table, Eric spoke about the desire to go to the Holy Land, in order to glorify the memory of his father, that he fell from the hands of scoundrels and all that in the same spirit. This arrangement of the uncle completely satisfied, for his dream is not enough that it was finally implemented, but also implemented in a very clean and neat manner. Therefore, he supported the zeal of his nephew and asked Rudolph to take up the equipment for the guy. The old cunning man behaved so naturally that only the desire to impose on him a group of dozens of armed servants prompted suspicion of a dirty trick. Too hard he imposed them. Probably they will have to interrupt the way of the young baron, of course, during a heroic struggle with the infidels in the Holy Land, that is, in two or three days' journey somewhere in the forest. To give reason for suspicion Eric did not, but because they agreed on the fact that he equip horses, give armor, weapons, armed servants and money for the road, and he, in return, transmits, for the duration of the campaign, his rights to flax beloved uncle.

A week later, in preparation for the march, the young baron asked his uncle to give him a teacher, for training in equestrian combat. Since with his current skills he is more of an equestrian target than a warrior that is going to liberate Jerusalem. Uncle of this idea, of course, was not enthusiastic, but it fits perfectly into his scenario of a loving relative, and the people must remember how he, a caring uncle, prepared the guy, or else they would say that he said he was sending a guy as. So the teachers singled out. It is quite predictable that they turned out to be Rudolph. After two weeks of horseback riding, where they practiced landing and simple parts, they began to leave in full armor and learn how to maneuver, and with arms to wave in a cavalry fight. Of course, not to death. For Eric, this was all again, since in that life he always converged in the cabin only on foot, that on the bugurts, that in the tournaments. The science was good, although it was given away with extensive bruises, but a much rubbed booty, so after two months it became very nice to feel in the saddle. Of course, even to a satisfactory result, he was still very far away, but time was already running out, as his uncle began to strain in the nephew's company, all showing that it would be time for him to fall back to distant lands. The guy at us was clever and understood hints. Began to catch the moment. And now, three days later, my uncle left on business in Baden. It was decided to take immediate advantage of this – he went to Rudolph with the proposal that for the sake of learning, it would be possible for them to go on a campaign for a few days. His proposal was pleasant, and was favorably received. It is decided to advance at dawn. For a campaign in the Holy Land, his uncle used to dispatch 50 denarii to him. As a result, forty denarii he sews into the belt like a nest egg, and spends ten to ensure that his mail was brought to a proper state – that is, large holes were eliminated in it. He left the remaining coins in a leather purse to the waist, in order to show that he takes with him on the road not all. At night, the most difficult thing happened: it was necessary to get into the dungeon to Bertha, in this partisan raid he took only a small knife with him, which he stole in advance in the kitchen. She, of course, is not his mother, but this insidious peasant, who considers himself an uncle of our hero, needs to leave a surprise so that life does not seem to honey. The guards peacefully slept in their komorka, even without putting up a fast, and the door to the dungeon itself was open to allow for a little airing. Approaching the cell door, he quietly scraped it.

– Is there anyone alive? Asked the young baron in Latin.

EricSon. it's you. How did you get here? Answered the alarmed voice of the woman.

"Quietly? ! Shhh! Yes it's me. The guy whispered. "Do not wake the guards. "

" All right, I'll speak quietly "Is that really true? Have you really lost your memory?

– Yes, alas, it's true. I do not even remember the native language, I can only speak Latin. And to find out about what really happened, I could not at once, from the peasants. I'm still trying to pretend that I do not know anything and support the game of my uncle. But that's all – empty chatter, let's talk about the matter – how can I get you out of here? I do not know the dungeon device at all. Are there secret passages?

" Son, do not pull me out. "Do not risk so. Leave. I can not help you at all. This scoundrel has so exhausted me that I will no longer have life. My whole being is torn. One or two more weeks and I will die. What can you say, you saw everything yourself, – her voice became completely sad.

" If I give you a knife, can you use it to take revenge on your uncle? "I am constantly insured in his presence, so I can not even jerk.

"Give me the knife, I'll try to die with honor. "

Eric pushed the knife into the slot under the door and touched the fingers of this exhausted woman to his fingers.

– Go in peace with your son, may the Mother of God guide you. God knows, my father and I did not wish you such a fate, but the ways of our Lord are inscrutable

– Bert. My mother. Come to think again! What are you saying! ? We ourselves are forging our own lives. And if fate destined us to die – we must meet death with weapons in hand and a proud, bold look – let fate be suppressed. I do not even know if Walgal will take you. But go to the end, fight this insidious reptile until the last breath. We are not slaves in order to bow our heads to accept the fate of this weak and frail god – Jesus. If there is no other way, then go to death and accept this last battle as a warrior, even if weak in body, but strong in spirit. And let your enemy be afraid of you, even slain.

Son. Is that you!

– I'm a mother, I am this. In me much has changed after that blow. I already died once and my body was lying dead for 24 hours. I know what I am saying. Forgetting my past life, I remembered the ancient knowledge. We are not slaves of any God there. We – the descendants of ancient and proud warriors, that they cut their lives through the boiling waves of adversity. And you – a woman, going to meet your fate should not humbly wait for the death of someone. Or are you like a slave to endure violence against yourself and humiliation to the laughter of the crowd, not having the pride to fight even without a chance of success? Too much is forgotten, too much is etched out of us. But I say, fight, and let your last battle light the ancient Ass – One, and your hand will be as hard as the mighty hammer of the Torah.

" It hurts to hear this, my son. "But you're right. So right that in my chest everything is compressed from pain and grief. We were humble and cowardly in the face of the enemy, in fear we relied on God's will, not hardness of the hand and fled. For this and paid with their lives. You're right, my son – we all need to fight for every sigh, every moment and I'll fight – for you, for the sake of those who died, for the sake of those who will live. Now go, I need to prepare for death to meet her with dignity.

There was a long-awaited morning. Eric went on a hike, taking with him provisions for four days and with full armor, putting in addition to the sword, a dagger with a crossbow caught from the crypt. Rudolph regarded this as a whim of an inspired neophyte, and only smiled. They moved north not along the road, but along forest paths. The whole day passed fairly calmly. They spent the night on a picturesque edge with a gorgeous view, not a field and a small overgrown duckweed pond. In the morning, having left the parking lot in the field behind the pond, Eric was alert and began to peer into the distance, which extended beyond Rudolph's distant shoulder. He noticed the look and turned to look at what had so alarmed his young companion. Eric did not hesitate, snatched the dagger and slashed it on the girth of his master's saddle. And then, under the weight of a large man, it began to crawl swiftly, Rudolph, waving his hands, yelled, in his whole tinnitus, loudly and ornately swearing. Taking advantage of the satellite's confusion, the young baron rushed on his horse forward at full speed. When he disappeared behind the far turn of the road, Rudolph was already standing on his feet, holding the horse by the bridle, and smiling with a kind smile. He was a good student, smart.

Eric ran at a gallop on his horse for about a quarter of an hour and, only realizing that he was not being pursued, dropped speed and went easy trot. Toward evening, he met a small group of clerics and asked them about the area in which he is and what cities in the district. It turns out that in the daytime passage to the north-west, the border town of Basel was located. I went to him. At night he was able to stop at the tavern of a small town Olten, which stood next to Aarburg, neatly on the other side of the river. The next day I decided to go faster, and by trotting, by noon, I reached my destination. At the gate, surprisingly, they let him through without any problems, they did not even ask who he was or where, and did not take the fees. Apparently its appearance had affected – on horseback, in chain mail, helmet, with a sword and crossbow. So commoners do not go mostly, but noble people do not like it when they are stopped. In Basel, he did not particularly linger, just crashed on the bargain, where he was able to exchange his strange, massive sword of bicentennial aging, which he was barely pulling, because he weighed a half kilogram or so, on a comfortable Hungarian sword, weighing only eight hundred grams, why stale from the seller. And since there was much more in the sword of metal, and buyers for a sword for four years did not appear, the seller also paid Eric two denarii. Asking the price to new armor, our hero very quickly rolled his lips back, so much so that his teeth could be seen. He missed even half of the new mail, not to mention the smart and beautiful scaly and lamellar kits made in the lands of the Slavs and Hungarians. So he went for a couple of days on the market, licking on delicious devices. By the way, like the market, he learned about the most expensive coins in this region and their course. The most frequent guests were four coins, this is a stamp that is minted in Vienna, denarius and a marriageate that are equal to each other and obol. For one brand, 192 denarii or 412 obols are given. Although the rate may fluctuate, as coins may not be local, and therefore by weight and composition are different. It was funny that in the course were almost exclusively silver coins, and the few gold coins from the East that fell into Europe, very quickly went to the treasury and jewelry. About the people in general, almost nothing said, only occasionally smirking inexperience of the youngster and explained that the coins from such a despicable metal takes only a rare mole.

By the end of the second day, he realized that he was wasting his time, and decided to assess the situation, for starters. So – he is Baron Eric von Lenzburg and a legitimate contender for flax vassals to his very influential cousin Count Ullrich Kiburg. The hereditary possessions were an old castle, requiring serious repairs and nine villages of 50-100 inhabitants with the corresponding agricultural lands, eight of which stood far from the castle in a separate enclave. In the courtyard danced 1196, which means that the level of agriculture was absolutely terrible, and these lands gave very little income. What are his chances of capturing his hereditary possession? Honestly speaking – very small, since for the squad he is not an authority, even if Karl dies, Rudolph will take his place, most likely, as he is not only a knight, but also an experienced person. His cousin, although young, but clever, and therefore easily support a new dynasty of barons, especially since the previous one has some rights to his title and can potentially be dangerous. In short – he does not shine in the current situation. Of the property he has only a young mare, a worn aketon, chain mail, breathing heavily on the incense, an old helmet, a saber, a crossbow and a dagger. In total, less than a third of the silver mark is obtained, even with coins taken into account. As they say – for Athos it is too much, and for the Count de la Fere – too little. I will explain – the fact is that it is quite possible to start a good farm with this money and quietly, peacefully living huddled somewhere in the corner and working from dawn to dusk, in order to eat, however, for a nobleman, even such a small as he, this money is clearly is not enough. That is, there is also a nerd, although, as a "starting pistol" will completely come down . . What is his position? He is a strong young guy of 14 years old, who managed to escape from the clutches of a very dodgy predator – his beloved uncle. Now he is actually in a clean field, without a stake, without a court and without prospects. Unless to go as a volunteer to some petty nobleman. The situation is still obtained. So you need to think hard and understand what he wants here – in a new body, a new world and a new status? The first thing that comes to mind – it's good to live, that is, not strongly straining to eat delicious and softly to sleep. To achieve this goal, there are only two ways: the first – to become a trader, the second – to attach to the title of the land and live with them. Of course, being a nobleman at the land is a much more interesting prospect than just speculating with one or another property. To do this, you need to solve three problems. First, find a livelihood. Secondly, to put together a gang around itself, since ambitious loners do not live long. Thirdly, to feed the gang you need to find a permanent source of funding. So, for the first task the solution is simple – you need to steal a little. This is unaesthetic, ugly, immoral and completely non-curse, but was someone in history otherwise able to earn decent money for a short period of time? Robbery, slave trade and extortion are traditional sources of initial capital. The solution of the second problem is much more complicated. There are three problems. The first problem is the personal qualities of the candidates. Aby whom to take no meaning, and good specialists are always on the bill and they can not be caught in free swimming. The second problem is a matter of personal devotion. What will motivate these very gifted people to remain loyal to our hero? Money: This is unlikely, since in this case the devotion will end exactly when the money runs out. Here you need to think. The third problem is the problem of leadership. Having a strong, smart and enterprising people on the team, he might just not wake up one fine morning. Strangely enough, but usually these people also have ambitions and rarely they are small. With the solution of the third task in general, everything is vague and depends on how his life will turn out his life, as well as who and how much he will be able to assemble into a gang. Since it is very dangerous to loot in one territory for a long time, it is necessary to advance on a trip, and not to waste time and energy on unnecessary movements – to move slowly to the place where it will seize the land. The most reasonable in this matter was to go to the lands of the weakening Byzantine Empire, since the famous autocratic clown Alexei III was in charge there. The angel who can not grab a piece of land with only a blind and toothless rickets. Of all the territory that was under the control of this emperor, Tavria was the most tasty piece, that is, the modern Crimea, which has a very successful strategic position, both in the military and in the commercial sense. Yes, and the influence of Alexei there is almost equal to zero. But you can not go directly there, you need to collect resources and troops. For this purpose, Eric compiled a route and outlined, in general terms, work tasks that will need to be addressed in the course of the action. The very first task was to bring his equipment into working order, as it is very difficult to rob people with this garbage. From the next morning, he ordered three dozen crossbow bolts with faceted tips and went to fix the belt for the charging hook and the crossbow, or at the most crucial moment or the bow would break or the trigger would fall apart. By the end of the fifth day, he was ready to leave for Augsburg. And further to Vienna, where, according to rumors, there lived an intelligent master blacksmith, glorious in all the Austrian duchy with his chain mail and helmets. To him, Eric also wanted to go to the apprentice, in order to get used to this difficult matter in contemporary realities. From his thoughts, that he can again engage in a familiar and interesting business, he was completely excited. Of course, this will look very strange – a noble man learns from a simple peasant, but, in principle, this can be attributed to whimsy and courage. I bet I can not. Among the feudal lords will understand, but the opinion of the crowd is not interesting to him. Everything was ready, but it was unreasonable to leave on the night, so I had to spend the night in Basel. The most unexpected and, at the same time, pleasant news was that Bertha, nevertheless, was able to meet her tormentor worthily. Literally on the last day before his departure, rumors began circulating around the market, about how she not only injured his manhood with a knife, but also cut her face and neck well. He survived, although very sick, but it is still not known whether this is good or bad, since the well-known beauty and thunderstorm of women – Baron Karl von Lenzburg – was eventually not only terribly fearful but also empty as a man, having lost the most active part of his body. And this despite the fact that he is not yet married and childless! Berta herself took death from the ax, which she was hacked by the guard who ran to the baron's cries. Eric slept badly, now and then waking up – he was overwhelmed by thoughts. Yes, the Middle Ages proved to be the most natural with all its charms and customs. These are not the times to squeal about human rights with a nasal voice. Only a firm hand and an iron will are valued here, and human life costs only how much when you yourself can not take it away and have to pay a mercenary. All the rest is just the entourage, which for some aesthetics is adorned with all the filth and filth that here blossomed a riotous color under a wide variety of sauces.

In the morning, he jumped neither light nor dawn and conducted the last revision of his property, remembering whether he had prepared everything, whether he had taken everything. With money, he smoothly began to have problems, since after repairing the crossbow, buying new bolts and fitting a smart harness with a hook under him, Erik had only fifteen denarii left. If this goes on, then very soon he will have nothing to eat. But a man with a gun will always feed himself, so that our hero has only to choose food in the teeth. So – in the way. He moved along the road to Reinfelden and further to Brag, it was in dangerous proximity to the castle, but other ways were too far taken away. Toward evening, he overtook a group of travelers. Ten people, all in armor, with clockwork horses with luggage, but the guys are clearly not military. We talked, met, it turned out that among them there was not a single nobleman. Strange and curious. So they rode a dozen miles and a half, until the fork came out from behind the turn, and it turned out that they did not go to Augsburg. Say goodbye and went our way. Eric drove off just a couple of miles from the intersection. After all, it is curious – where and why they go in armor and with weapons. It's huge money! Who and why would they trust their commoners? In general, his doubts did not last long. Unfolding the horse, our hero decided to follow them up to the night, of course – without getting in their eyes. How long, shortly, but after two hours it began to quickly darken, and an hour later the trail sharply took to the forest, where half a mile, on the edge of the forest crackled a fire, glowing bright star in the thick darkness. Fortunately, there was a coppice behind Eric, and his silhouette was hard to see against the backdrop of a black massif, so his appearance was not noticed. Carefully dismounting, the young baron tied his horse to a tree about a mile from the fire, just in the copse. And he, crawling, with weapons, trying not to rattle them, went to spend the night strange travelers. Alas, it was given to him this very hard, well at least the chain mail, tightly stretched on the aketon did not make unnecessary sounds. After spending about two hours on this guerrilla, Eric, still managed to occupy a comfortable position in the shade of a large oak tree, which stood a little further from the forest on a small hillock, about ten meters from the fire. On the part of vacationers, this mound was not visible at all and looked like a solid, blurred black spot. Sitting in the shadows, our hero carefully watched. Ten armed men against one though strong, but a teenager is not a joke. But, finally, they figured out the supper and went to bed. It was noteworthy how uncomfortable they all do. Kind of like experienced guys, but the camp was also broken in a strange, easily defensible place, and the horses were dragged along for a long time. Doubts were fumbling for the soul, and fingers were pulling at the bed of the crossbow, which had already been cocked and loaded, just in case. The decision was prompted by them, leaving only one hour to peck on the log with their faces facing the fire. Then they went carelessly into the arms of a sound and healthy sleep. Now it remains to choose the moment. Immediately to attack it is impossible, it is possible to frighten away dozing prey. It is better to wait for the shift of the sentry, everyone will fall asleep more firmly, and the time for changing the guard will be known. The hour of observation of the snoring men was affecting our freshly burgled robber. He miraculously did not fall asleep and only an active stir at the fire, the dream was swept away. For about five minutes he shook his changer, who was drilling something, kicking and absolutely not wanting to step onto the post. At the same time, the rest of the travelers did not even break the snore's melody, completely unresponsive to the similar noise at their side. Somehow the holy mystery still happened, and now the honorable log warmed his booty with a new character. Fortunately, he was too slow to nod and fight with sleep, and so, settling on his improvised throne, and warmed up, he performed an extremely important act – a tenth sip was introduced into the night choir, which, tearing, sang a hymn to Morpheus on the forest edge. After waiting a couple of minutes, Eric slowly pulled his crossbow to him, squatted, aimed and fired at the sentry's face. The bolt lay gently and gently straight into the eye socket. The light sound of the bowed string remained unnoticed by the others, and the sentry man emitted a grunting sound and lifted his head silently and knocked over the log silently. From the outside it looked as if he had fallen in a dream on his back, and so he fell asleep further. Seconds flowed slowly, as if lazily, and with each growing tension, and fingers painfully dig into the box of the crossbow. A minute passed, but, alas, these strange people did not jump up, but shamelessly and brazenly snored. Our hero did not try to test fate anymore, it's not enough that the bolt will not lie so gently and tingle about some metallic object. So he put down the crossbow and very slowly began to creep up to the travelers, crouching and clutching a knife in his hand. The people at the fire lay in the bag, but either on their sides or on their stomachs. Therefore, not especially inventing, Eric slowly and gently walked from person to person and the chorus slowly lost its force. His knife neatly entered from the back of the head to the base of the skull at such an angle that the blade would go to the side of the brain, where the part that was responsible for breathing and palpitation was struck. Therefore, comrades died almost instantly . . Quiet and neat strokes that did not cause any screams or noise. Only a slight crunch of cartilage served as an indicator of a successful outcome. When he had finished, he sat down near the fire and clasped his knees. The whole body was chilling, and his throat was vomited – it was his first corpses. That's what the place of the night found – the ten corpses and one guy sitting motionless and looking with bulging eyes somewhere into the void. It's easy to say – ten corpses, and even their own hands. Of course, before breaking the level of the hero from the infamous novel Dostoevsky was very far away, but in the soul of this guy was rotten. How much blood has already spilled. First his family, and now these people too. And how much more will be spilled? Is the road to the place under the sun going along such a bloody path? From the trance Eric led a ray of sunlight, which reflected from the helmet, hit him in the eye. A little blinking and examining the clearing, he ran after the crossbow, and then to his horse. Returning to the parking lot, he busily began to deal with the property that he inherited from the accidentally deceased fellow travelers.