The expedition was moving slowly through the forest. Although all four men were mounted, the hunter led them directly into the woods, far from any roads. They were advancing with a deliberate pace, maneuvering around trees, wading through bushes. Dead silence followed the travellers. Ymdaton was not in a talkative mood, much more willing to hear the surroundings, detect a possible attack early.

“So tell me, why would you choose to live off hunting in a place where a lone trip to the forest is a death sentence,” broke the silence Paltisumas.

Zvenmir turned his head and glanced back at the crewman. His expression was anything but approval. After a moment he looked forward again and stroked the back of his cat which sat in the saddle in front of him. Crewslayer thought that the gatherer was going to ignore the question completely, but after some time he talked.

“Wealthier men acquire weirder tastes. Some want a wild fruit or a game meat to adorn their feast, some want a coat made of a pelt of a mighty beast, some seek rare curative plants, just as Dragomir does. Whatever grows or runs among the trees will be requested. And since my clients are mostly rich, they pay well.”

“How do you spend all this gold while living in the ditch at the edge of the wood?” grinned Viroglyad.

“That is none of your concern,” replied the hunter without any aggression in the voice.

Soon the greenness became so thick that it was impossible to proceed any further. Upon seeing this, Zvenmir dismounted and unsheathed his weapon. It was a one headed axe without any decoration. Not saying anything, he began cutting down the vegetation. Ymdaton left the saddle too. He glanced at Paltisumas and Viroglyad who were looking confused with their hammer and sword.

“Our people are not that different, I guess,” muttered Crewslayer with a smile and joined the hunter in his task. It took quarter of a day before they left the thicket. Sun was already low , the party decided to camp where they stood and continue at morning.

The next day of travel was pretty much the same until the treeline began to thin. Shortly after they stepped out of the wood and into the clear space. Ymdaton’s first impression was that they arrived at a glade, but it soon became apparent that the empty patch of the land was relatively narrow, while its length stretched as far as the eye could see.

“It’s a principal road!,” Paltisumas voiced Crewslayer’s thoughts.

“No man lives this far to the east. Who built it? And where does it lead?” wondered Viroglyad.

“I know no more than you,” said the hunter who found puzzled gazes of three warriors locked on him, “I never travelled to the end of this path, and neither will we. It is too dangerous to walk in the open for so long. The forest will notice. Trust me, it is not the most wonderful thing that you will see on this journey.”

Zvenmir did not bother to explain his last words and no one seemed eager to ask. They traveled by the road for three days. While sun was in the sky they rode without rest, during the nights they camped in groves at road’s edges. At the third day Ymdaton began to think that he saw some massive shapes ahead on the horizon, mountains perhaps. He did not have the opportunity to verify his theory, because the hunter soon led the party back into the forest.

Crewslayer who was still alert, ready to hear sounds of an ambush, started noticing a monotonous noise in the background. It was almost unnoticeable at first, but became louder as they moved forth. In two days the forest suddenly gave way to the flat bank of brownish-red sand. The river of similar colour flew before them.

“The river of blood,” exhaled Ymdaton amazedly, “I thought this to be but a fairytale.”

“You know this story, despite being an outlander,” said Viroglyad with a surprised voice, not turning his eyes from the crimson current.

“Quite real, it is,” uttered Zvenmir, being the only one visibly unmoved by the sight, “and here is your prize,” he pointed his arm to the left.

There by the shore stood trees which bore green leaves still, while the rest of the forest was already red and golden. Men dismounted and headed for the plants, unsheathing knives.

“Fill your bags quickly and never lose a sight of others, if you want to return,” told them the gatherer.

Ymdaton carved the trunk, gathering pieces of bark into a leather bag. He did not have an utility knife, so he used his trusty sidearm: a dagger with a triangle shaped blade. Time to time he cast glances at his comrades. Soon the bag was full and the warrior walked close to the water, waiting for others. Paltisumas joined him almost instantly, then the hunter. There was no sign of Viroglyad though.

“I will go find him,” finally said Paltisumas. Zvenmir stayed him with hand, then pointed at his cat. The animal was close by, its fur standing on end, back arched, ears turned back. It growled and hissed at the treeline. Suddenly it burst into the action, running into the nearest bushes.

“Spoosh sees something there,” whispered the hunter. It was the first time that Ymdaton heard a note of alarm in his voice.

“Then we go and fight it,” told him Crewslayer, taking out his blade.

“No we don’t,” Zvenmir glared at him, “Your friend is already dead, do you want to join him? Trust the man who walks these lands regularly. I know you have defeated a lord of the green. But here, in the east, lords of lords reside. In open combat we will surely perish.”

The hunter’s rant sounded more like he was pleading Ymdaton not to make a stupid decision. While kinani warriors were deciding on the course of action, the hunter quickly cut three sticks of reed, which grew at the edge of water.

“Put these into the mouth and submerge into the river. Stems are empty inside, so if only a small part of it stays above the surface, you can breath through it. Be there until I drag you out,” said he, giving two of them to crewmen.

“Are you insane? It is autumn already, the water is pretty cold. We will freeze to death before we can count to hundred,” replied Ymdaton.

“Here in the open we will die before counting to ten,” upon saying this, Zvenmir himself submerged first.

Crewslayer considered tossing the reed away and going after his drevlyani trainee. But then he recalled clearly his first encounter in Odwitchni. He remembered the forest devil rising from the dead to get him, while he was already celebrating the victory. Ymdaton sighed and followed Zvenmir. Paltisumas had no choice but to do the same.

Indeed, the simple water plant allowed him to breath through his mouth easily. Other than this, there was nothing to be happy about. The river stole the heat out of him rather quickly, soon he started to shake with cold. The current was constantly trying to drag him forth. He dug his finger into the river bed in order to stay in place. He saw and heard nothing from the surface. Whatever hunted them could have stood right above him and Ymdaton would not have noticed.

After what felt like a whole day a shadow appeared above him and Crewslayer felt a hand at his shoulder. With a single strong move he was sent to his feet.