Chasers of the Wind by Alexey Pehov Page A

would at least be forewarned and not find out about it when their enemies were already standing over them.
    All that remained were the windows. He studied them quickly. They were small. Luk wouldn’t be able to crawl through them, but for someone thin enough it would be easy. There were no decent boards, no nails, and no hammer here. The only thing he could do was hope that all their enemies were big and fat.
    “What happened at the Gates?”
    The sound of Ga-Nor’s voice ringing out caused Luk to flinch.
    “Screw a toad! You’ll drive me to my death!”
    “Then you’ll rest with Ug.”
    “You can rest with Ug all you like, but I intend to live,” grumbled Luk as he checked his drying clothes and sat down by the fire. “Do you have anything to eat? I haven’t eaten in over twenty-four hours.”
    The northerner rummaged in the bag that he’d taken from the saddle of the Nabatorian horse. He extracted sugar, an onion, a small hunk of cheese, and a quarter of rye bread from it.
    “I trust you’re capable of eating and talking at the same time?” asked Ga-Nor as he sliced the onion with his dagger.
    His companion nodded and told his story as he ate. The Son of the Snow Leopard listened attentively. Everything was far worse than he thought. The Damned were involved in this business! Rubeola’s name used to terrify him as a child. And it probably wasn’t just her. How many of them were there? Six or eight? The Damned would be far more trouble than all the others. If, of course, Luk wasn’t lying, as was his habit. But he was clearly not lying.
    Nabator had been wanting to conquer the south of the Empire for centuries. And now that long-awaited event was coming to pass.
    “Surely someone else must have escaped.”
    “Maybe,” replied Luk listlessly. A blind man could see that he didn’t really believe it. “Rek and I managed to get out because we ran from the walls along the southern stairwell. It’s not far from there to the fifth portal. I just don’t think that anyone followed us. A swarm of Nabatorians fell on them. And Morts, too. We barely got through.”
    “Did the Walker really die?”
    “Yeah,” said the soldier mournfully. “The Damned hit the wall so hard that…”
    He didn’t finish, and he didn’t really need to. A heavy silence fell. Both men watched the flames of the fire and thought their own thoughts.
    Luk considered himself lucky. Ga-Nor was an excellent tracker and not a bad swordsman. The chances of living were far better with him than if he were alone. If the northerner hadn’t come to his rescue, he would already be dead.
    “Ga-Nor? What now?”
    The Son of the Snow Leopard answered reluctantly, “We will have to get through on our own. Going to El’nichi Ford makes no sense. I’m sure they’ve already taken it. I think that Nabator will head for Okni and Gash-Shaku. That would deprive Al’sgara of support. And it will give them the opportunity to gather up their forces to strike at the heart of the Empire. As soon as we leave the foothills, we need to head west.”
    “I need to go to Al’sgara,” Luk declared suddenly. “The Walker begged me to report about the Damned.”
    “I’m sure they already know.”
    “And if not?”
    “Then they’ll know in a day or two. At any rate, you’ll be too late.”
    “I promised.”
    Ga-Nor looked at the obstinately pursed lips of his companion with astonishment. He hadn’t expected it—that a gambler would keep his word.
    “If you won’t go with me, I’ll go by myself.”
    “There’s forest all around. And beyond that the Blazgian Swamp begins. You’ll die.”
    “If we keep going west, we’ll get to Dog Green. There’s a road there that goes to Al’sgara.”
    “Do you really think that the Nabatorians haven’t blocked it off?” scoffed the northerner.
    “It’s worth the risk. Are you coming with me?”
    “Let’s talk about it tomorrow. Right now I need to sleep. I’m very tired.”
    “I’ll keep watch,”