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It was disgusting through the narrow eye sockets of the helmet, even the holes (ventilation?) On the metal gnawing didn’t save the situation, but I saw enough to make sure: Haykovo darts in pieces of iron as if in pajamas — quickly, deftly, without touching anything.
No, well, how does a helmet stink! Inevitably, you will rejoice in the ever-memorable edict of King Stephen, so that his gird of dwarves fucked him.
The worst, however, was to come.
The sun began to burn, and my brain slowly boiled hard in an iron bucket.
There was not enough air, the heaviness of the chain mail was pressing on the chest, the body refused to obey, the heavy shield inexorably pulled down, the head lurched either forward or backward.
On the back, chest and forehead ran a trickle of sweat, smarting hot eyes.
In addition to the heat, I began to stir up.
The alarming call of the horn, accompanied by a commanding cry: “To battle!”, Caught me off guard.
The twitching of a startled sniffing when screams were heard and the horses around her suddenly began to move erratically, but I had no idea how to calm the frightened horse.
Through my eye sockets, I noticed a club of dust on the horizon.
Turn the wagon train! – Ike’s voice screamed right beside me.
The tinkling shied away from the commander who was passing by.
While I was turning my head, the carts with the supplies were turned across, obscured by their help from the mysterious club.
Commander, there are wargs! Someone shouted.
Oh, it means that we have fallen straight into the paws of the thunderstorm of steppes — orcs racing on terrible wolves.
So I found myself a cushy job of a concubine.
Fear of sticky fingers squeezed my insides, my fingers went cold, my heart pounded wildly.
In the dust club, riding figures moving in strange jerks became visible.

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A low howl echoed the bloodthirsty shouts in a strange barking dialect (although the last one I could have imagined with a fright, because there was really little that was heard in the helmet)
Archers! “Ike’s imperious voice was certainly not a fantasy, and in some strange way his calmness was transferred to me a little.
The characteristic whistle of a multitude of arrows, which suddenly broke off the string, was accompanied by screams of pain and mournful whining – but the orcs did not slow down, and I could clearly see.
green-skinned savages rushing straight at us, riding wolf-like creatures with barrel-shaped bodies.
The second volley – and the seemingly inevitably flying mob of orcs with hooting changed direction – they clearly wanted to bypass the train and hit from the flank.
When their squad turned, several arrows flew in our direction – apparently the orcs knew how to shoot while sitting astride.
Arrows thumped into the shields that covered everything except me.
I just did not realize that I have a shield, and they can hide behind.
When it dawned on me that if the arrow had hit me, my guts would remain forever to rot in these steppes, I was muddied even more than ever.
In Booooi! – Ike’s familiar voice.
Haardad! – a friendly roar of a few dozen sips.
Fuck you! – a trembling whisper under my visor.
And two waves — a half-brutal orcish and a steel human — faced the clash of weapons, the cries of the wounded, the rattles of the dying.
It was impossible to disassemble something in the flicker of the armed figures, wargs, horses, shields, forgers and axes.
Frightened by the clanks and screams, my obviously non-fighting mare decisively reared, and not having time to stay in the saddle, I inevitably fell backward, only miraculously having managed to pull my feet out of the stirrups.
The earth met my back with a hollow punch and a wild pain in the tailbone and the back of my head.
The tilting rushed off to where it was

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, and I was lying on my back, unable to move, seeing nothing, because the sockets moved somewhere on the forehead.
The noise of the battle seemed blurry, the clang and cries merged together.
I had a feeling that they put me in a bag and unwind, unwind, growing stronger and faster.
I tried to inhale the air with my mouth, and bent over in a gagging spasm, unable to roll over or remove my helmet.
Vomiting filled everything under the visor, not having time to pour out through the vents, stuffing in the nose, eyes, making it difficult to breathe, but I still could not stop, the stomach would eject new and new portions until vomiting began to pour out through the eye sockets. Livejasmin feet.

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