Toril was in despair. The captain flatly refused to sail any further, saying that he personally was not yet tired of living and that money was certainly a good thing, but he personally had no idea what to do with it on the seabed. At least, none of his acquaintances who had ended up there had ever complained about a lack of money. And anyway, he personally was not his own enemy - to get involved with the Sea King. He got away with it once, the magic Torch helped him out, but the princess would not leave him this Torch when she left. Would she? You see. And the Sea King is an exceptionally vindictive person. So he personally, the captain, already regretted getting involved with this terrible journey, and would not sail further south for anything. However, he willingly took the money to repair the galley, noting that he could have given more, look how the ship was disfigured, it was scary to look at. In parting, he bowed awkwardly, muttering something incomprehensible - either gratitude, or quite the opposite,
- and ran away so quickly, as if he was being chased.
Toril tried to find another ship, but... All the galleys that stood on the shore had long since dried out and rotted, and only a madman could try to launch them even in a calm harbor. And it was ridiculous to even talk about going out to sea on them. She tried to hire a fishing boat, but the owners turned pale and turned away, mumbling something unintelligible as soon as the conversation turned to sailing somewhere. No, no one refused to sell the boat. Please, even now, there will be no delay. But sailing... South... No. No. And don't even ask. Just look at the sea.
It was indeed scary to look at the sea. From the day Toril came to Acanton, it could not calm down. Storms raged incessantly, one after another. Only occasionally did the blue sky peek through the ragged clouds, briefly, for a minute. And then a new cloud would immediately creep up, even blacker and heavier, and it would begin... The waves furiously threw themselves at the stone walls of the old fortress, an incessant roar and rumble filled the air, as if a giant volcano had suddenly woken up and begun to erupt near the city. And the stones of the fortress - even the stones! - were already gradually giving in. Gnawed by the teeth of giant wavers, massive buttresses that had stood for hundreds of years began to crumble. Cracks began to snake in the ancient walls. And as if delighted with their success, the waves attacked the fortress with tripled force, trying to tear it apart piece by piece.
Only the old pier did not give in. The white Charm Stone shone calmly in the greenish water. This glow only became brighter as the storm intensified. The largest, most ferocious wavers tried to stay away from the Charm Stone, as if it burned. And as before, the waves, hitting the pier, scattered harmless sparkling fountains, very high and beautiful, if only there was a brave man who could overcome his fear of the wild power of the storm and go out to admire this picture.
Behind Toril's back they have already begun to whisper that she is a witch, that it was she who brought trouble upon Acanton. After all, nothing like this has ever happened before. And these terrible monsters... After all, they have never been seen in our lands before, the legends do not speak of such horror... It is all her, she... The captain said so... And in general, there, in Tan-Khorez, everyone is a sorcerer and a witch. They say... But quietly, I am whispering this in your ear, someone else will hear... Yes, yes, that is how it was, I give you my word of honor. Absolutely right. And all from their pride. They imagined themselves, as if they could go against the king himself... But I tell you the truth: she must be driven out, driven out, while it is not too late. And it would be better to tie her up and throw her into the sea to the Sea King. We lived in peace and harmony with him, we lived well, and everyone lived, except for these proud men. They don't want to submit, you see... All that is needed is to make peace, well, there you go... Give her up, and everything will calm down, I tell you truly... We'll appease the King, and everything will be fine again. Only we must do it carefully, very carefully, the witch is strong... That's what they said, I heard it myself... No, every single one. No one was saved... And the captain also said...
When the princess left the tavern where she was staying, the street quickly emptied, people shied away from her as if she had the plague. True, not everyone…
Toril remembered these two boys from the first day, when they stood on the pier and stared at a passing galley, battered by wavers. And she didn't like them right away. One was red-haired and thick-lipped, and the other was dark and skinny. Disgusting. They stared at her like at a wild animal. And now they were following her, but why? She wasn't an inhabitant of the city zoo, so they would look at her with such indecent curiosity.
- Who are you? What do you need?
The taller, dark-haired one grinned wickedly.
- Us? Nothing. But what you need in our city is very interesting.
Toril immediately seethed. No one had ever dared to speak to her like that before. Even now, with their heads hunched and their eyes hidden, the townspeople were respectful. And this…
- How dare you?! Do you even know who I am?
Darkie grinned again.
- Of course I know. You are a princess.
- Exactly. And behave accordingly!
Darkie flinched as if he had been struck with a whip.
"But that's in vain," he said quietly, breathlessly. "Very much in vain. I'm afraid you'll never find anyone who would agree to accompany you. And who will help you if you're so arrogant? It seems to me that you'll need companions much sooner than you think. So I wish you luck in your search. Let's go," he pushed the reddish oaf. "It was in vain that we wanted to help. They'll manage without us here."
"No, wait, Chani. You can't do that," the red-haired man mumbled, confused.
"You can," the dark-haired man interrupted him, grabbing him by the sleeve and turning him around forcibly.
- Went.
They walked slowly along the narrow street that ran uphill. Toril looked after them in confusion, barely understanding what was happening. Help? They? But what could they do? On the other hand, wouldn't it be better to agree, there was no choice yet. And then we'll see. But they were so nasty. What to do? Finally, coming to her senses, she took off.
- Wait! Wait!
But the boys paid no attention to the princess. Slipping and stumbling on the wet, uneven cobblestones, Toril caught up with those who were leaving and grabbed the dark-haired man by the sleeve.
"Wait a minute," she said breathlessly.
The dark-haired man turned around.
- What do you want?
Toril blushed again, but having overcome herself, she said with difficulty:
- Forgive me. I didn't mean to offend you.
"Especially after guessing that I want to help you?" the dark-haired man asked sarcastically.
But the red-haired man immediately boomed:
- Well, you can't do that, Chani.
"Dry up!" Chani replied briefly.
"No, I really didn't mean to," Toril said sullenly. "But the interests of the kingdom require… However, I'm not insisting, and if you don't consider it possible to accept my apologies, then…"
Chani bowed ceremoniously.
— We consider. Your apologies, Your Royal Highness, are accepted with full satisfaction. For our part, we consider it necessary to convey to you the assurance of our highest consideration and to express our sincere regret regarding the misunderstandings that have taken place.
He bowed low once more, sweeping the pavement with the feathers of an imaginary hat. Toril's cheek twitched, but the dark man's pompous manner reminded her so vividly of the pompous and important Master of Ceremonies Var-Twang that she couldn't help but laugh.
- You could very well serve as my father's chief ringmaster. As I understand it, your name is Chani?
- Absolutely right. And my brother's name is Khani, - he nudged the red-haired man, who awkwardly shuffled his foot.
- Brother? - Toril didn't believe it. This impudent fellow was definitely laughing at her.
"What, they're not alike?" Chani feigned surprise.
"They are completely different," the princess admitted sincerely.
Indeed, they had nothing in common. Or almost nothing. Chani was tall, slender, even, perhaps, a little thin for his height. Thick black curls, falling to his shoulders, only emphasized the dark complexion of his face. His thin, clear features reminded Toril of the profiles of kings from ancient gold coins. Hani was younger than his brother and shorter, but much broader in the shoulders and, apparently, stronger. A snub nose, red, stiff hair sticking out like a hedgehog... In general, he looked a little like a teddy bear.
"And yet we are brothers," Chani confirmed. "And your name is…"
Toril raised her head proudly, throwing a wave of thick blond hair over her back.
— Her Royal Highness Crown Princess Toril or-Twine or Edelster or Tan-Horez-ed-Kildangan.
Chani shook his head.
- I see you, but where are the others?
"Who?" Toril didn't understand.
- Well, these... Or-Twains and others.
Toril's thin lips pursed in irritation, this was already going beyond all bounds. Her hand twitched to the folds of her cloak, to where the Golden Torch was. However, Chani caught her hand.
- Forgive me, please. It happens to me sometimes. I can't stop, even though I know I shouldn't continue. Sorry.
"No, really," Khani intervened. "He's kind, he just likes to joke."
Toril looked at them from under her brows. Chani spread his hands a little confusedly.
"Okay," she agreed. "Let's go. We need to talk."
When the princess began to tell her story, Chani smiled incredulously, but very soon his smile disappeared. There is nothing to say about Khani - he listened with his mouth open. After all, this was exactly what he dreamed of. Wizards and terrible monsters, mysterious letters and statues of long-dead rulers, evil servants of the Sea King and knights fighting them...
Far to the southwest, where it would take three months and three days to sail, on the very edge of the Sunset Sea, lay the island of Tan-Khorez, the Happy Island, the Sunny Island - the people who lived there had given it many names. Thick green grass covered the low hills, between which the silvery streams of the streams tinkled merrily. Hundreds of fruit trees grew on the hillsides, making the entire island look like one huge blooming garden. Before the lush white blossoms of the apple trees had time to fall, they were replaced by other flowers - and so on all year round. The sun-drenched white sandy beaches beckoned to sailors.
But right there, very close, lay the Forhale Islands, the Black Islands, the Sea King's domain. None of the travelers risked approaching their gloomy rocky shores, eternally covered with the white foam of the furious surf. In fact, they were not islands at all, but just a pile of stones carelessly thrown into the sea. Inhospitable black-gray rocks, in places covered with the same lifeless gray rubble, numerous shallows, dangerous reefs - a real trap for ships.
But the sailors of Tan-Khorez had no equal in the world. Their galleys plied both the ice-bound northern seas and the Midday Ocean, almost boiling under the furious rays of the sun. They moored to unknown islands, discovered unknown lands, paved new routes and everywhere left beacons, shining in the night for lost ships.
The sailors of Tan-Khorez managed to get through to the Black Islands, and they built a lighthouse there. And what's more, they planted trees there so that someday, maybe not right away, maybe in decades, people could settle on the Forheil Islands.
The Sea King had never liked Tan-Khorez, and when he learned of this, he swore to destroy the insolent ones who had encroached on his domain. He decided to sink Tan-Khorez to the bottom. First, the ships disappeared, and then... He decided to solve it, but it didn't work out. The kings of Tan-Khorez were also well-versed in the secret science of magic. The sea seethed and boiled, black waves rose higher than the highest mountains, but the island stood. And the Sea King retreated. But, having retreated, he harbored an even more fierce anger, now not only against Tan-Khorez, but against all people. He began to destroy everything in sight, for he had long harbored a cherished thought to turn the entire planet into a solid sea. The islands of Maardan, Tolentain, Torgeil and many, many others had already disappeared in the seething waves. The sailors did not recognize the places where they had been a year, six months, a month ago. People were dying, but the Sea King was only happy about this.
And now he has reached the mainland. A terrible flood has destroyed the city of Akaites. It seems that it is Akanton's turn. Of course, the fact that the princess was here accelerated the advance of the sea, but only accelerated it, and did not cause it. And in vain did the city magistrate hope to sit it out behind his Charm Stone, which, by the way, came here from Tan-Khorez. And Tan-Khorez himself will have a very bad time if the princess's journey is not crowned with success.
The Sea King is not alone, he is helped by the Mist Master, who reigns far to the north, about whose ice kingdom nothing is known except that it exists. The Sea King has taken possession of the Golden Talisman, the power of which almost no one can resist. He has awakened the ten-winged dragon, which had been sleeping for a thousand years, and now this monster is devastating the land of Tan-Horez. And if the Sea King sees that his wavers cannot cope with Acanton, then the dragon will appear here too. All the magic of Tan-Horez will not be enough to fight the Ten-winged, the magic of good is not able to overcome the creation of black magic, the magic of gold.
In ancient times, which are only told in half-rotten parchments, a mysterious Black Sword, the Sword of Hatred, was forged. Half-forgotten legends say that it is fueled by hatred for the enemy, and no force can resist it. Resistance only increases the force of the blow, which increases the more the owner of the Sword hates his enemy. No weapon, no armor can resist it. Only this sword can defeat the Ten-Winged.
But where to look for this Sword? No one knew. The ships of Tan-Khorez ploughed all the seas and oceans, and the sailors tried to find traces of the Black Sword everywhere. Many brave sailors died in this search - and in vain. Finally, one of the captains brought a tarnished and crumbled from antiquity gold plate on which the history of the Black Sword was carved in Witch Runes. It is not worth telling, for it is a story of blood and death. And it said there that now the Sword is hidden on the mysterious island of Kelatrionazvern, the Island of the Underground Night. This island appears at the moment when the edge of the sun touches the surface of the sea, and disappears when the sun has completely sunk into the sea. The island melts in the night darkness, the Underground Night, mixed with the heavenly, covers it. One can sail away from the Island only at dawn, while the sun rises from the sea. And it is useless to look for the island at another time - the ship will pass by it, but none of the sailors will notice the white cliffs of Kelatrionazvern.
Dozens of ships were sent to search for the island, but none of them returned. The ships left and disappeared without a trace. Finally, a piece of a mast washed up on the shores of Tan-Khorez, to which a half-dead sailor was tied. He told that the destruction of the ships was the work of the Sea King and his servants - three sharks and wavers. Yes, the Sea King did not waste time, he raised reliable assistants for himself.
However, the kings of Tan-Khorez knew another secret of the ancients - somewhere in a hidden harbor, the Golden Galley was waiting for its time. Many thousands of years ago, it was forged by master craftsmen, and it is not subject to the magic of the Sea King, his servants will not be able to stop the flight of the magic ship.
The location of the Golden Galley is a great secret of the rulers of Tan-Khorez, no one but them is privy to it. But the best way to get to the secret harbor is from Acanton. You can go by sea - although there are many sharp rocks and shallows there. You can go by land, through the Misty Mountains, to the mouth of a small, inconspicuous river, where the Golden Galley, always ready to sail, quietly sways in anticipation of the crew. It is worth saying the cherished words - and the snow-white sail with a woven golden solar disk will rise by itself, the long heavy oars will strike the water in unison, and the Galley will sail where it is ordered. The path to the cherished place is dangerous. The Sea King has long been trying to find the Golden Galley, but not in order to sail somewhere himself, he does not know the spell, but only in order to destroy it.