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.
