The spear carrier of the hill clan was seated between Saul and Anton. Once again he was wrapped in his fur coat, which now smelled of insecticide. He was sitting peacefully, wrinkling his short nose nervously and sniffing. It was five o’clock in the morning, and a pale, icy dawn was breaking. And it was very cold.
Vadim drove the glider at top speed and kept thinking the same thing over and over: “Will we make it or not? If only those poor men had decided not to return to the settlement immediately.” But he understood that they had nowhere else to go. It was their only hope – to try to assuage the Leader of the Guard with a story about their heroic defense of his envoy. That vicious beast would have them killed immediately, Vadim thought bitterly. If we don’t make it in time. He imagined
