CHAPTER 7-THE GATHERING
By the next day, the entire breadth of the oasis was filled with hundreds of stern-faced warriors on horseback. The horses looked as hardy as their masters. All day long, across the sand dunes, wave after wave of cavalry appeared. Charnaiz and Primrose rode beside each other and Kazansky was in front. He looked better on the horse than on the camel. Charnaiz rode on forward, catching up with the major.“Feels different, doesn’t it? Riding on a horse, I mean. At the head of an army,” Charnaiz said to his Russian companion.
“Just not the same as riding in a Red Army UAZ 4wd,” Kazansky replied. “Plus, I’m starting to miss all our chem-war operations against the Whites. Feels like so long since I last saw a man’s mouth foaming as he claws at the ground, dying. And why’d you ask anyway? No one is really ever interested in Krasnorussia except Krasnorussians.”
“I am always curious when I hear about a world where Adrior and Gondwana don’t exist,” replied Charnaiz.
“Oh, and does Russia exist in your world, then?”
“Of course, it does. Only then, where I came from, it was still a rigidly unified state under Vladimir Putin.”
“He’s long dead in our time. Few even remember him. All of us in the Red Army have only one goal now: to eradicate White Russia and once more unify the motherland.”
Charnaiz looked up. “Wars like that can last decades, yet sometimes be finished in months. Sometimes, all it takes is one good visionary leader and a really lucky big break of a battle.”
“Visionary? In your world, I guess that would be you, right?”
Charnaiz smiled. “At first everyone thought that, even me. It took them six long years of war to find out that I wasn’t as perfect as they thought me to be. But then again, I always thought of myself as the only option for victory.”
“Ha! Maybe you’d like to come back with me when all of this is done to Russia. You’d take over Krasnorussia, overrun the Whites, and conquer the rest of the world,” Kazansky said, half-joking.
“I’ve never wanted to rule the world. I already have enough problems in Adrior and Gondwana alone. And I don’t really care much about the rest of the planet, or in this case, the rest of the alternate timelines and dimensions.”
Just then, Valeri came riding up to them on a chestnut-colored roan, which was comparatively small to Charnaiz and Kazansky’s stallions. “Are you ready, my Lords?” she asked. “Aquilifon’s lair is a long way off, and the army is restless for battle.”
“Let’s move, then,” Charnaiz suggested.
Charnaiz felt nothing much during the next few hours. He only focused on the sand ahead. The war-cries of the army behind him and the thundering of the horses’ hooves reminded him of the times he had led countless campaigns in his own world. As for Kazansky, he was trying hard not to doze off in the middle of the ride and topple off his horse. By nightfall, the desert had ended, and large, rocky canyons greeted the greeted the army. “We shall camp here for the night, my Lord,” Valeri said. Charnaiz nodded in agreement. He assisted primrose off her horse, escorted her to a tent being set up, and took a walk across the canyons, scanning the horizon.
Natasha’s mouth had probably been sealed shut forever from not talking for hours. Here she was, at nightfall, with a totally weird stranger in blue state-of-the-art armor. She had been forced to carry Mookie, whom Reynold had trapped in a portable force field. Still, the purple furball continued to spew out shrill curses at the Russian lieutenant, who seemed to have had just enough. She was just about to drop the force field and give Mookie a well-deserved kick, when she was interrupted by Reynold’s rich voice. “Stop.” Someone else is with us. Look up.”
Natasha turned and saw a silhouette of a man crouching on the ledge above them. The shadow then leapt off the ledge, and his face came into full illumination in the moonlight. The man’s hair was golden, and he wore a red cassock. Natasha and Mookie were totally unprepared for what they saw next.
“S-Santi Charny…” gasped Reynold. And he bowed to the golden-haired stranger, so low that his face touched the ground.
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