Day after day we moved west, skirting the city in a wide arc. We had to walk on open, flat terrain, away from the beaten path, which significantly lengthened our journey.

When we stopped for the night, we took the necessary precautions to avoid tiring night watches. We drew circles around the campsite and the lammul camp and cast protective spells.

My friends, believing in the power of the protective circle, no longer dared to mock me and withdrew their ridicule.

Sometimes, waking up in the middle of the night, we heard an inexplicable rustling and the light scratching of tiny claws. But neither the creaking nor the scratching could be a real cause for alarm. Who knows what creatures decided to show interest in new neighbors - especially when a fire burns brightly in the darkness and human voices are heard. Curiosity, as we know, is inherent in all living things.

As we moved through Orkvalia, we noticed countless herds of wild pigs, goats, and sheep around us. They seemed completely indifferent to our presence, continuing to peacefully nibble on the grass or doze in the sun's rays as if our appearance meant nothing to them.

This landscape, animated by the life of wild animals, evoked a feeling of comfort but also alarm: such a calm place could hide threats.

Sometimes our path was blocked by a forest, densely overgrown with young growth and dotted with massive fallen trunks. Each such obstacle was like a challenge - it had to be overcome with caution because in the dense thickets both insidious predators and poisonous plants that could kill instantly could hide.

We did not know what awaited us behind each tree, and this uncertainty gave our movements a tense, almost ominous shade.

However, open areas of land were no safer. There, giant elephant-like animals roamed freely, their powerful, clumsy movements inspiring awe. One false step from them would have been enough to crush us like insects.

But no less attention was attracted by the herds of black buffalo, whose looks were filled with unwavering determination. It seemed that they were ready to protect their young from any threat, defending their territory with horns and hooves.

We hid, realizing that any mistake, any sudden movement could upset the fragile balance and turn into disaster.

These moments were especially tense: the herds of buffalo looked at us attentively, and we, in turn, froze, watching them.

And yet, fortunately, common sense and peaceful intentions prevailed on both sides, and eventually we slowly dispersed, carefully moving away from each other.

Traveling through Orkvalia, we experienced real pleasure from the surrounding beauty.

For Alex, it was the embodiment of happiness: nature generously gave travelers bright colors, rich flora, and a completely incomprehensible world.

Our group moved forward, crossing sparkling blue rivers, red lakes that seemed to reflect the sunset sky and endless fields of white flowers swaying like snow waves.

Overhanging bushes, like giant tents, sheltered us from the tropical sun and were so large that they could have sheltered not only us but also the lammuls for the night.

Then we entered other forests - groves of fruit trees strewn with juicy fruits reminiscent of peaches - as if nature itself invited us to feast. The lammuls eagerly nibbled the grass and trampled the meadows covered with yellow sour berries. Our fruit table was filled with oblong fruits resembling bananas, and this unexpected variety brought lightness and joy to our daily menu.

This whole picturesque landscape was crowned by brightly colored birds - caracoru, soaring in the air like animated rainbows. Their iridescent trills filled the air with sweet music that sounded like an intoxicating spell.

It was as if we had been transported to paradise, surrounded by the beauty and harmony of nature.

Our movement alarmed the inhabitants of the forest. With a light jump, long-eared hares, agile goats, graceful deer, and brown-eyed roe deer quickly rushed to the side, as if sensing our approach. These peaceful animals, not experiencing obvious fear, ran to a safe distance and, as if assessing the situation, stopped to watch us from afar. Having ensured that we were not a threat, they began to nibble on the grass again or lay down in the thickets, continuing their usual rhythm of life.

However, the forest hid not only peaceful herbivores. A menacing picture replaced the peaceful landscape when we found ourselves in the wilder thickets.

A low, warning growl came from the tall grasses. The predators, emerging from their nightly hibernation, showed their sharp fangs and ferocious nature.

The wary gaze of the fanged animals made it clear that we had violated someone else's territory.

In front of these evil guardians of the forest, we had to find a compromise: we turned off the direct path, leaving the predators behind, and continued moving, carefully listening to every sound around.

On our way, we increasingly came across neatly plowed meadows, cleared by man, like islands of well-groomedness in the wild forest.

Sometimes we found fields, green and alive, or well-groomed apiaries, hidden under the thick branches of trees. These places attracted our lammuls, forcing them to turn off the route and lengthen our path while they wandered and nibbled grass.

After a long journey, we made halts. Here we fished in cool streams, hunted in the forests, and carefully washed clothes faded from the sunlight and covered with road dust. These stops became a real salvation for us.

Ena rode ahead, adding colors and a special atmosphere to the journey. Each of us, including even the reserved Pete and the cautious Bruno, succumbed to her charm.

She looked unusual, but at the same time irresistible: her short haircut gave her a boyish charm, and her tailored trousers and vest with bright red fur trim looked bold and modern.

Ena communicated freely with each of us: sometimes she would lift our spirits with a casual smile, sometimes she would have heart-to-heart conversations, and sometimes she would flirt with a light, almost weightless playfulness. In her communication with me, however, there was a certain detachment, as if we were just acquaintances who had crossed paths by chance.

I assumed that the reason for Ena's coldness was Bruno, her obvious favorite. He did not hide his sympathy for her, hinting in conversations at a stronger connection than just friendship.

He once confessed that after the White Mountains, he wanted to start a family, and this frankness irritated me. Why did this handsome, open guy suddenly decide to make her smile differently? What was wrong with me?

I wanted Ena to look at me differently at least once, to answer without icy reserve, or to smile as she did for others.

Take Aglon, for example, Ena felt at ease with him, and their friendly bond was obvious to everyone. They grew up in the same village, knew each other since childhood, and shared much in common. And although their friendly conversations and quiet jokes looked completely innocent, looking at them, it was easy to imagine that they could be brother and sister.

Bruno was alone with Ena many times, having leisurely, thoughtful conversations, as if trying to get to her heart. Sometimes, they rode side by side. But either indecision or natural restraint prevented him from becoming something more for her. From time to time it seemed to me that, despite his efforts, Bruno had not yet found the key to her soul.

There was another one in our group who did not lose hope of winning Ena's favor.

Basil brought her bouquets of wildflowers, wove wreaths, and carved primitive decorations from wood in the form of hearts or flowers. But, alas, the girl perceived his courtship with complete indifference. As if an annoying fly did not give her peace and she could brush it off with her hand.

Defeats did not stop Basil; with each new gift, he hoped that the wall between them would finally collapse.

And Pete continued to act as a guide. At night he studied the stars, during the day he navigated by trees and the wind. Sometimes he would suddenly stop, making a sign to wait, and we would silently watch him, waiting for his signal to move.

After five days of travel, we suddenly came to a large village, where everything around seemed to wake up at our appearance.

There was no point in hiding - everyone already wanted some peace, and a night in a hut could not compare with the warmth of a village overnight stay.

Bruno suggested that in these parts they had not yet heard of our escape, since the village was quite far from the city. Perhaps we could rest peacefully and gain strength without attracting attention.

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But as soon as we crossed the village border, we were immediately surrounded by a group of armed men. In front of everyone stood a strong man with a tenacious gaze that scanned each of us. It was Gont, one of my opponents in the recent tournament. His eyes flashed with a recognizable predatory light as if he was anticipating something that remained unsaid.

I recognized Gaunt and immediately wanted to hide behind the backs of my comrades.

But he noticed me. A momentary irritation flashed in his eyes, like a flash in a dark tunnel where the resentment for his defeat at the tournament had not yet died down.

He knew who I was, and I saw his face harden as he spoke a few words to his warriors. His men watched us silently, ready for a signal, for any threat that their commander might make.

But I did not intend to kindle the fire of conflict. After all, what happened at the tournament was in the past. In my travels, I often met men who lost to me in swordsmanship. They forgot their grudges and became friends with me.

They forgot their grudges and befriended me. Take Bruno, for example.

I tried to remain calm despite the growing tension. Gaunt looked at me, and there was hostility in his eyes.

"What do you want here?" he asked, his voice cold and demanding.

I answered with a slight respect, hidden behind a polite smile, trying to avoid aggression in my tone.

"I apologize for defeating you in the tournament. It was simply a competition, a chance to show off my skills. You were not the only one who lost the battle. If you had not lost to me, you probably would have lost to someone else." I said, and his eyes instantly narrowed.

"Are you going to invite me in? Or are we going to apologize on the street?"

Silence hung in the air, and I felt like all our steps and words were weighed in slow motion, preventing Gaunt from deciding on his next move.

Gaunt made a gesture with his hand, and his warriors, visibly relaxed, began to help my companions saddle the lammuls and lead them to the stables.

We followed them to the central square, where the houses of the village elder, the blacksmith, the cooper, and the healer stood. Among these houses, there was one small parlor, usually empty, for travelers rarely came here.

The village, located far from the main roads, did not attract frequent guests.

"Come to me," Gaunt suggested, still sullen and focused, unable to hide his wariness. - "No one has lived here for a long time, and the yard is dirty and unkempt. I would not invite you here if I did not need it."

"I am not angry with you," he continued, turning to me, and in his voice, there was no longer that cold challenge that I had heard before. — "The fight was fair, and you won according to the rules. I realized my mistake and accepted defeat. You were more skilled than me. Winning the tournament would have earned me a named flag, which would have allowed me to gather more warriors than I have now. We live far from large settlements, and if trouble happens, my forces may not be enough."

His confession sounded sincere, but I could not shake the feeling that there was a hidden threat in his words. Gaunt would have been glad to win, but now he perceived me not as a rival, but as someone who interfered with his plans.

We were in his domain, and he remained the commander here.

Gaunt again reminded himself of his goal - to expand his forces and protect those for whom he was responsible.

"What could happen? There has never been an open war in Orkvalia, except for a few skirmishes with bandits. The rulers of the neighboring lands are content with their territories and do not seek expansion. Animals avoid proximity to human settlements. When we went to your village, nothing threatened us. So what are you afraid of?"

"You see..." - he leaned towards my ear, looking around - "I am anxious. I always expect some kind of disaster. The people in the village laugh at me. I can't explain it to them, but when I go to bed, I dream of fire, burning houses, dead people, and above them - animal masks. Will you laugh too?"

He looked at me, but I could not smile.

His words sounded like an echo of what I had heard from Mitch, Pete's father, and Nix. An invisible threat was approaching Orqualia, but no one knew where it would strike from.

"It's nice to know that you're preparing for war," I said to Gonta, smiling, but the tone of my voice was serious.

"Your village, though far from the city, can always send a messenger for help if something happens. We'll discuss this later, but for now, invite me into your home and show me how you live."

Gonta's home pleasantly surprised me with its warmth and comfort. There was no luxury in it, but a homely atmosphere reigned. We were met by his wife, a beautiful, pretty woman who was genuinely happy to have unexpected guests.

Ena wasted no time helping the hostess quickly set the table. Gonta showed Aglon how to heat the bath. While the others were exploring the village, Gaunt took me aside and spoke quietly, almost in a whisper:

"I am glad to see you safe and sound. Gregor tried to convince me to prick you with a poisoned thorn before the competition. He wanted you to be immobile. But I refused - I do not like such games. Gregor got angry and promised to do me a lot of harm if I told you about it. I saw how hard it was for you in the fight, and I was worried when you were carried away. So where are you going? What can I do for you?"

It is amazing how the world works. Gaunt greeted us unkindly, but upon closer inspection, I noticed that there was concern and even warmth hidden in his words.

After all the travelers happily washed themselves with hot water, we finally sat down at the table.

A little girl, Gaunt's youngest daughter, sat down next to me. In my search for gifts, I found not only something for her but also for her older sister, as well as for the hostess herself.

Our attention was immediately drawn to the table, laden with hot home-cooked dishes, from which it was impossible to tear ourselves away.

I caught Ena's gaze directed at the children of Gont, cheerfully chatting about their small childish concerns.

There was something hidden in this look - as if white envy, expressed by the desire to have the same lively, playful "birds", black-eyed and mischievous, a house filled with noise and laughter, and a man capable of supporting and understanding in difficult times.

During dinner, there was little conversation at the table. Everyone mainly admired the taste of the food, and there was no conversation because the cozy atmosphere itself was conducive to silence.

In the end, the atmosphere in the house was so drowsy the travelers that everyone wanted to sleep. The squires thanked the hostess and left the room, but no one dared to sleep in the house.

Even as we moved north, the nights grew hotter, and all the expedition members preferred to camp out under the stars.

I stayed in the house with Gaunt for a long time.

We continued to talk, and I told him about the purpose of our journey, asking what he knew about the Valley of Dreams in the White Mountains. That was where our path led, and it was Pete who was supposed to lead us there.

"What brings you so far?" Gaunt asked, his face expressing concern. - "As far as I know, it is not safe in those parts. The tribes there are wild, they do not understand our language. They say that they eat their own as dessert."

I laughed. There were many legends about such places, and this was no exception.

"Well, you know, history knows more amazing things," I answered, trying to hide my doubt. — "I think a few shots won't be hard to scare off such characters. Or maybe we'll be something like gods to them. In that case, maybe they won't even dare touch us."

For the first time, Gaunt smiled. I offered him:

"Would you like to come with us? You'll find out where the truth is and where the lie is."

Gaunt grinned, but the refusal was swift and decisive:

"I would walk with you. I like you. But I can't leave the village for long. There's too much work. We need to get the harvest in before the rains come. And I won't give you any men, don't ask. Every warrior counts. Idleness relaxes, and we're on the border of Orkvalia. There are several villages ahead, but they're small and weak, they won't be able to put up any serious resistance."

He paused for a moment, and then added with some hope in his voice:

"Would you show me that trick you used to knock me off the platform? I tried to repeat it on my guys, but I got it worse than they did."

I smiled.

Training had always been something natural for me. I never had to draw my sword during the entire journey, but Gaunt was right: idleness relaxes. And I wasn't against honing my skills, and perhaps helping him next time.

We found a secluded spot, a platform hidden from prying eyes. Gaunt had set up several Orkvalia lamps to create suitable lighting for training. The lamps softly illuminated the space, and against the backdrop of the night sky, we stood like two masters ready for action.

Before starting the technique, I explained in detail how to place my foot correctly, and where the center of gravity should be. Gaunt turned out to be an attentive student. After only the fifth time, he understood how to turn to let the opponent pass him by and knock him down. Something was amazing about it - he deftly learned new moves, and his strength and determination gave him confidence in his actions.

Rubbing his bruised areas, Gaunt insisted on continuing the training.

Now it was my turn. He began to use the technique on me, and, landing on the ground, I felt like I was learning again, improving again. Each new blow was for both of us a step towards perfection, and each fall was just an incentive to do everything better next time.

The training lasted about two hours. We were bruised and battered but happy and went to bed as friends.

But before parting for the night, Gaunt spoke to me, not hiding the anxiety that possessed him.

"Maybe you will stay in our village? Unsettled, disturbing times are coming. Here, in the village, you will be safer than outside it. It seems to me that the supposed danger is located right there, in the north, in the White Mountains."

I shook my head:

"Thank you for the offer. I think we will not perish. I am afraid that if we stay here, we will become easy prey for the lions of Asir. But what worries you?"

Gaunt looked anxiously to the side as if trying to see something beyond the horizon. The dark veil of night, spreading beyond the distant hills, seemed to hide the answer to his painful question.

"The old men say, and I feel it myself, that around us, in the dark hollows, in the damp caves, there is an unknown evil hiding. It is harmless for now as if waiting for the right moment to come forward. All this is... strange. I cannot help but feel the anxiety in the air."

I was silent, listening to his words. Something in his voice was too sincere, too serious to simply brush it off. Perhaps there was truth in his words that was difficult to admit even to myself.

"If that is so, why don't you go out with your warriors, and strike first?" I asked, feeling how Gaunt's anxiety was transmitted to me. It is good that only I can hear these words.

Gaunt looked at me with an expression as if I had just asked the most absurd question.

"Can you cut the air? Damage flowing water? Hold loose sand in your hands? If we knew where it was hiding, what it looked like…" his voice became quiet, almost doomed

.

"Sorry, Gaunt, but in this case I am also powerless. I would be glad to help you, but I do not know how."

"Well…" he answered dryly, making it clear that the conversation was over. - "Good hunting and safe return. If you are in our area, drop by, we will be glad to receive you."

Having said goodbye, Gaunt turned and left without looking back.

I looked at his back, mentally apologizing for my refusal, although I knew that in this situation no one could offer a solution.

In the morning, the rested and sleepy company set off again.

Before leaving, Basil and Nikos walked along the houses early in the morning. They returned angry and empty-handed. Surprisingly, there was no gold in Gonta's village. Of course, there was, but not in a transportable form. My friends did not dare to rob the village.

Gonta's village lay among fields glistening with a rich harvest.

Alex tried the grains, rubbing them between his fingers, and collecting seeds for propagation. The swaying ears of wheat pleased the eye, and the singing of unfamiliar field birds pleased the ear.

And if we traveled through the city of Forbant with some internal tension caused by the primitive novelty, now we paid more attention to the surrounding nature, noticing little things.