Mikhail Shelkov

Elinor. The Deserted Valley. Book 1


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south lay a straight path, passing between the gray rocks. The danger of falling into the abyss was no longer there. The mighty mountains of the north gradually grew lower and lower until they turned into gently sloping stone elevations. On such roads, it was possible to walk unaccompanied by an illa. Of course, demons could attack. More precisely, within a couple of weeks they would attack at least once. But each Itoshin had to always be ready to repel a sudden attack.

      They walked in silence.

      According to the Code, any soldier on the crossing was obliged to remain silent, and speak only when the situation required it. If the enemy was near, if it was an unknown creature, a beast or a man, or maybe you hurt your foot on a sharp stone – speak then. And if you don’t like that the fog is damp, that it’s cool around, that you want to eat – keep quiet!

      Do’Ayve would prefer to wade through dangerous mountain trails, as they had done over the previous seven days. As throughout all those days, he had been thinking about how to make the right step, how not to fall into the abyss, and how to catch up with the illa.

      On an even path, the only thing left was to remember Shohan. Remember Moon Lake… remember Reyve!

      Do’Ayve thought about her, and it frightened him. And what if the demons? And he suddenly wavered!

      At last, the young man decided to discuss it with E’Do at the next night’s stop, to not postpone such an essential conversation for a long time.

      I wonder what’s going on in the heads of my comrades-in-arms now? We move forward, measuring steps through this dense fog. There is nothing to think about, therefore I remember the past, so I’m floundering between my temptations. What’s E’Do thinking about, I wonder? What do the focused Todo and Ğan-Iolai think about? The hot-tempered Joe and Lado? Could it be that I’m the first warrior who was subjected to such tests? Most likely not! There were others. But they had overcome their passions! For the Code still exists, and we live by the Code!

      4

      They sat by the fire. The image of Reyve did not leave Do’Ayve’s head.

      Why did she attract me so much? What is so special about her?

      Do’Ayve looked closely at the faces of the twin sisters Leerie and Nainuk; both apprentices were still very young. He decided they were beautiful. Both were pretty, with light-golden hair. It was only possible to distinguish them by the hair: Leerie had short hair, and Nainuk had hair below the shoulders. But the sisters didn’t awaken such emotions in Do’Ayve. He simply treated them as his sisters-in-arms, his comrades-in-arms.

      Why Reyve?

      Now Do’Ayve had a look at Biu, a field chronicler. She sat and wrote something down on a sheet of parchment. She noticed Do’Ayve was watching her and looked up.

      “Did something happen? Is everything fine?”

      “Yes!” Do’Ayve came to his senses. “What are you writing about?”

      “About today’s pass.” Biu was a little surprised at the question.

      “But nothing happened today, did it?”

      “We left Lauhan, walked along the path for a long time, fixed a camp… all these are also events. They are important. The history of the people is written just like that.”

      Do’Ayve realized that now he might look stupid and decided to walk around the camping area for a bit.

      Joe whacked his blunt sword across the huge stone. He chopped zealously and frantically.

      Those like Joe cannot live without battles.

      The a’jo’ğan are distinct Itoshinian warriors. The most violent are brought to the battles with demons on chains or in steel cages, and then released. Then a’jo’ğans take out all their wrath, their fury, their anger.

      In Joe, a violent disposition had been noticed since birth. That’s why they had given him such a name. He was destined to be an a’jo’ğan. He could often control himself, but not always. Should one make him angry – he became demonic. Who knew what would happen in six years? Perhaps Joe would also need a cage.

      Well, Lado, too, had a complicated temper, but he was unlikely to become an a’jo’ğan. Lado knew how to restrain himself. Joe did not.

      On the other side, sparks flew from the fire. Todo, appointed to be duty officer, was sharpening swords for himself and the novices.

      All the soldiers sharpened their own swords. Those who didn’t undergo initiation were not allowed to do so on the way. The Code said that competent sharpening was just as important as the strength and speed of a stroke. Those who didn’t know how to sharpen the sword weren’t taken to be soldiers. And if one received the title of a warrior, he was required to take care of his own sword!

      E’Do, for example, never did it in public: either he walked away from the camping place, or waited for everyone to fall asleep, and then would take up the duty. And, it seems, that the time of this covenant rite was now approaching.

      “Curfew!” E’Do commanded. “I’ll go on watch first; once the brume ends, Lado; at dawn, Todo!

      The camp came to life. If E’Do gave an order, it had to be carried out. Five minutes later, everyone was lying on the ground, covered with yauls’ skins.

      E’Do tossed the thorns into the fire and only then noticed Do’Ayve nearby.

      “What about you?” The udoğan was surprised. “I gave the order!”

      “I do not want to,” Do’Ayve replied, crouched by the fire.

      “What do you mean ‘I do not want to’? Today you must sleep! You’ll be on duty tomorrow!”

      “I won’t fall asleep,” Do’Ayve insisted, choosing his words carefully, “I wanted to ask you… to ask for help… advice. I’m distraught in my soul, and I cannot overcome it.”

      “Well, well, well,” E’Do changed his tone. “Distraught is no good! Distraught is death for a warrior, for the warrior who is distraught ceases being a warrior. This feeling overrides the essence of the warrior!” The udoğan quoted lines from the Code, but then turned to his assistant. “Tell me!”

      “I do not know… how should I start? Tell me, what is the most beautiful thing you’ve seen in your life?”

      “Battle, Do’Ayve, battle – this is the most beautiful thing for a warrior!” The answer was rather careless, but seemed sincere.

      “That’s true… but I mean something other than battles. The Imperial Palace? Is it beautiful?”

      Only udoğans were allowed to visit the palace of the ruler of the Empire. Yes, all the guards and caretakers also held a title. Women were treated in the same way, except for the venerable widows who had lost their husbands in battles. They were disposed to cook, clean, and carry out other household chores in the Imperial Palace.

      “It is majestic,” said E’Do, giving his assessment.

      “And the Emperor’s famous gardens? The hall of valor? And… the daughter of the Emperor? Tsvetsho? You are the only man who has seen her, aren’t you?

      E’Do was silent. Do’Ayve even assumed that he wasn’t listening. Or maybe he is thinking? Remembering? But then he saw E’Do’s face turn pale, and a vein twitched in his cheekbone. Suddenly, the udoğan unfastened Hanvet from the belt, removed it from its sheath, picked up a flat stone from the ground and began to sharpen his sword.

      For the first time, E’Do was sharpening his sword in front of him, in front of Do’Ayve!

      The grinding stone slid gently along the sparkling blade, striking golden sparks. It looked fascinating.

      “This is wonderful!” the udoğan finally uttered, nodding at the sword.

      Do’Ayve