About the book: 1987 / In the gray twilight of dawn, the prophet climbed the wall of Sardopolis. The entire plain in front of him was dotted with tents of the besieging army, decorated with the symbol of a winged two-legged dragon - the coat of arms of the warlike king Tsiaxares of the North. In a thin, shrill voice, the prophet spoke: “Trouble, trouble for Sardopolis!” The Gobi Pearl will fall, fall and perish, its glory will be gone forever! The altars will be dishonored, and the streets will be covered in red blood. I see the death of the king, I see the shame of his subjects... Then the prophet took two steps forward and jumped. He collapsed on the raised spears and died. On that day, the gates of Sardopolis fell under the blows of large battle rams, and the people of Tsiaxares burst into the city like a tidal wave, like wolves... There was other grief, but there was also retribution.