Novel 3. The Last Autumn
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Аннотация:
A small group of mercenaries, at the cost of heavy losses, managed to close the portal that connected the world of sword and magic with the world of tanks and jet aircraft. However, this did not solve the problem - a huge amount of destructive alien weapons, including dozens of atomic bombs, fell into the hands of the ambitious King Auguste the First. Auguste, who took the throne after the murder of the legitimate queen, is ready to unleash a war with the entire world, having a good chance of success. At the same time, the remnants of the alien expedition, cut off from their homeland, weave their own intrigues, trying to become an independent force. The surviving mercenaries can only rush ahead of the front of the approaching storm in the hope of returning home before the thunder strikes.
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The last autumn
Part one. Escape as an art
Chapter 1
It was a rainy night, and that was the only thing that could be called good luck. The wind blew the clouds across the sky, and the moon and stars peeked out from behind them every now and then. The rain did not fall in a continuous wall, but came in frequent gusts of drizzle. It looked as if someone up above had occasionally drawn water into a giant bucket and then spat it out through a fine sieve. The river, which stretched in a dark ribbon ahead, was stirring. The noise of the waves could be heard, and the ferry at the wharf swayed noticeably, occasionally bumping its side against the thick coils of rope protecting the boarded wharf. Near the wharf, an oil lamp was burning under the horse shed, and the cloaked figure of the watchman was visible in the light. And this was already a failure. The windows of the ferryman's hut were still lit, so that someone was awake inside.
- Well, Captain, what is the plan? - whispered Don Armando de Gorazzo, formerly the royal bailiff and now a wanted criminal in Daert. - There are guards on the ferry after all. And you said...
- I told you it would be great if the ferry wasn't guarded at night, - Valria, a young elven mercenary who was in Coalition lands illegally, interrupted him. - If they are guarded, I'll think of something.
- Think of it faster... - Armando almost added "the demons take you", but bit his tongue. After his own encounter with demons, the don was wary of mentioning them in vain. With a sniffle, he pulled his cloak tighter. The bush in which he and the captain were hiding offered little protection from the wind. A fine drizzle clung to the branches and leaves, only to splash in his face at the worst possible moment.
- Hm..., - the elf was silent for a long moment, looking towards the dock. De Gorazzo could see the hood on her head twitching as she moved her long ears thoughtfully. He felt the cold or nerves start to chill him, and the don suggested:
- Why don't you shoot him with a crossbow? The wind will cover the pop of the shot, they won't hear it in the house. You'll hit him from here, won't you? In the neck or the eye so he doesn't even scream?
- I can, - Valria nodded slowly, not turning her head. - Don, it's not a soldier. It's not an enemy at all. It's just a guard. He makes sure no iron parts are stolen from the ferry or anything. It's a bit much to kill him.
- The fate of the squad is at stake, - reminded the former bailiff.
- I know. - The captain jerked her shoulder irritably. - To be honest, I was counting on you, Armando. That's why I brought you along instead of the corporal. It's hard to explain to a lizardman that a sentry can't get his throat cut this time.
- And you yourself?
- And I'm a delicate and graceful elven lady, though you can't see it under the cloak. But remember, before I wore the cloak, we travelled together for a couple of months? And you could memorise my appearance? Do you think I could knock out a big man with a fist to the head?
- Mhm... - there was nothing to do. Don de Gorazzo made an honest appraisal of the prospects. - The canopy is fenced on three sides with poles. And well lit. With the watchman inside, there's no way to get close to him without making a lot of noise. And the weather's such that he won't even come out of there to take a leak, I'll give him that. If we could lure him out a dozen paces into the dark...
- That... can be arranged, - Valria said. - I'll try to lure him over to those bushes by the road. - She pointed a finger. - Would that work?
- Yes. If his back or even his side to them, I'll get him. - The ex-bailiff took from his inner jacket pocket a round stone on a short rope, a primitive bludgeon. - I'd learnt to handle one of these things in the line of duty.
- Then I was not mistaken in you, Don. - The captain looked Armando in the face for the first time and smiled. - Let's move out.
It took a good hour and a half to move stealthily from one bush to another. The watchman had time to change, though it had no effect on anything. The ferryman's sons, equally stout and bearded, took turns guarding the wharf. At last the windows of the house were out, the first watchman having evidently gone to bed. In her new hiding place, Valria unbuckled her weapon harness and carefully placed her sword and crossbow on the ground. She placed the quiver beside it. She threw back the hood of her cloak, took off her hat and covered the weapons with it.
- You'll get wet, - whispered De Gorazzo.
- That's what I need, - she said calmly. She threw her head back and lowered her eyelids, exposing her face to the rain. The drizzle had just intensified, turning to large drops. In a minute, the elf's wavy blonde hair was soaking wet, sticking to her forehead and temples. The captain twisted it with her fingers, making a mess of it, and pulled out a couple of long strands so that they fell over her face. She winked at Armando:
- I'm off. I'm counting on you, Don.
Soon a thin silhouette appeared on the road leading to the ferry station. The tall but frail girl walked slowly, staggering and shuddering, her arm outstretched in front of her like a blind woman. Her unbuttoned cloak was tangled behind her back, hanging down like a rag, unable to protect her from the rain. The girl's white blouse, green waistcoat and grey trousers were soaked with water, and her long leather gloves and high brown boots glistened with it. The watchman walking under the awning did not immediately notice the night visitor. She had to draw attention to herself with a hoarse shriek of joy, not loud enough to be heard in the house.
- Mis... ter! - The girl waved her hand and stumbled on a flat spot. Her voice was joyful, but strained with fatigue. - Help!
It was only now that the sentry was awake. When he saw the stranger at last, he took the lamp off the hook and came out from under the shelter. He hesitated, looking at the strange visitor. She took a couple more steps and stumbled again. Exhausted, she collapsed on the ground, awkwardly stretching out her legs. She cried out pitifully:
- Please!
The girl raised and lowered her long, pointed ears several times. That probably convinced the watchman - hardly anyone in these parts could have imagined robber elves. Any backwoods peasant knew that long-eared elves were famous for haggling and cheating at cards. If they robbed, it was in times immemorial and only in the vicinity of their native principalities. So the sentry abandoned caution and ran up to the stranger. He asked excitedly:
- Madam, what's the matter with you? And who are you?
- I... I... fell off my horse... wolves... or wild dogs... chased... - The girl covered her face with her wet gloved hands. Her shoulders shook convulsively, her ears pressed against her head. - They chased the horse... And I ran back... I ran... as fast as I could....
- Wait a minute, I remember you! - the watchman slapped himself on the forehead. - You crossed in the evening! You had a white horse, a beautiful one.
- Yes, Snowflake... - the girl finally couldn't stand it any longer and started crying, her whole body shuddering. - Snowflake!..
- Well, well! - The kind-hearted man leaned over to the guest and held out his hand. - Maybe she escaped from the wolves. You shouldn't have stayed the night. My father offered to stay. And there were other people with you, where...?
The bludgeon whistled through the air and clattered into the back of the guard's head. Of course, Valria didn't choose the place to fall by chance - she sat down on the ground right opposite the thick bush in which de Gorazzo hide. And the watchman who had come up stood with his back to the ambush - it couldn't have been better. The elfess had done her part of the plan perfectly. It was Armando who messed up. Afraid of crushing the ferryman's son's skull, the don threw his bludgeon half-heartedly. It should have been enough, but the watchman was wearing a hat under his hood. The blow to the back of his head only made the man stagger. He dropped the lantern, groaned, and turned round in surprise. He opened his mouth to scream... but didn't have time. Valria leapt onto the guard's back, hanging on him, clutching his throat with her forearm. She wheezed, no longer acting:
- Help!
When the sentry came to his senses, he had no trouble unclasping the girl's fingers and shook her off, only to receive a second blow of bludgeon. The sentry collapsed beside Valria. Armando threw the rope of the bludgeon around his neck and tightened it. The elven girl clutched at guards arms, preventing him from struggling. The ferryman's son twitched weaker and weaker, and finally fell silent. Don hurriedly removed the improvised noose. He touched guards neck. Nodded to the girl:
- Alive.
- Thank the Creator. - The pelf wiped the water from her face, wrinkled, wet, and soaked in mud. Large drops fell from the pointed tips of her ears. The rain was getting heavier. - It would have been a shame... But in any case, there was one more person who hated elves today.
- Put your coat on. You'll catch cold, - Armando advised, bending down to pick up the lantern. It was a miracle it didn't break and spill oil.
- It's too late, - the captain grinned wryly. De Gorazzo noticed that the girl was shivering. The trembling in her voice was unmistakable. - We'll go back to ours - Dallan will keep me warm. For now, we'll continue as planned.
The two of them dragged the unconscious watchman under the shed, laid him on the straw, and tied him up with the rope they had prepared. His mouth was gagged with a rag gag. Valria took a large silver coin from her waistcoat pocket and slipped it into the man's pocket. Having calculated something in her mind, she added another coin, a medium one. Than grinned at Armando's disapproving look:
- The Free Company has its own rules, Don.
Armando did most of the work, using an axe, a small drill, and other tools from his camping kit. Valria stood guard on the wharf with a crossbow in her hands. The rain had died out and the sky in the east was beginning to brighten when the all was done. De Gorazzo and the captain left the crossing as stealthily as they had appeared. The bound watchman was mooing under the shed, trying to spit out his gag, and near the quay the ferry was sinking slowly with its bottom broken in several places.
Armando and Valria watched the commotion at the crossing in the morning from the top of the wooded hill at the foot of which they hid the horses. Or rather, it was the sharp-eyed elven woman who was watching. Don could only make out some vague stirring around the wharf. But his eyesight was enough to see a cavalcade of black dots appearing on the other shore. The dots merged into a single blur at the water's edge, stood for a moment, then moved in a chain along the shore, downstream.
- They? - The former royal bailiff asked.
- They are, - the captain confirmed. The girl had partially cleaned herself up, even changed her blouse into a dry one, but her voice still sounded hoarse. - Fifteen riders, the same ones. Carrying two dogs on their saddles. We moved on to the next crossing. Just as I thought - down the river. We've won a day and a half or two, and then maybe they'll lose the trail.
- We'd better not lose the trail ourselves... -Don grinned.
- We won't, - Valria assured him with a touch of smugness. She pulled up her long gloves with the wide cuffs, kneaded her thin fingers through the thick leather. - They have only dogs, but we have me. I'm better. And besides, I've got a posse travelling on my orders. We'll catch up with them after lunch. Better before. I want porridge or soup, hot. Carlon will probably make porridge.
Without wasting any more time, they walked down the hill to the horses and climbed into the saddles. The elven woman trotted her well-groomed, white-breasted Snowflake, and De Gorazzo followed, leading the two winding horses. The border river and the Kingdom of Daert were behind them. The pair of riders were travelling deep into the Erdo Republic.
Chapter 2
The raid on the crossing took place on the fourth night of their escape. Armando did not remember the first two days well. He seemed to ride in the general formation, ate at rests, slept at overnight stays... But he did it mechanically, without thinking. His thoughts were covered with a dense fog, which was sometimes broken by bright but short flashes of pain and despair. It seems that the first night the former royal bailiff had cried, pulling the blanket over his head and biting his fist. The memory of it seemed dim and shaky, as if the matter had been years ago. Destroying the portal to a world where technology had surpassed magic had cost the composite squad dearly. But especially cost Armando himself. Big Gotech, oldest and most loyal friend, his fianc"e Minerva, her dragon - all those with whom he had started his journey were left behind in the blasted mountain fortress. Even the Lady Jana, the silent ghost girl to whom de Gorazzo had managed to become imperceptibly attached, was gone, having paid her comrades one last debt. Now he was all alone - and alone in his grief. The Imperial mercenaries were friendly to the don, but still, after all the hardships they had endured together, they were strangers. In the mess of emotions that possessed Armando, a blind, unjust anger against them reared its head, but the don suppressed it with an effort of will. The Imperials had not dragged him into this war. On the contrary, they had come to his aid when Armando was already up to his neck in a confrontation with outsiders.
On the morning of the third day de Gorazzo awoke with a terrible headache. His heart ached and the back of his head throbbed, but the fog had receded. In his cleared mind there was one distinct thought: "It's not over yet". The aliens and their accomplices who had taken power in Daert had not disappeared after the portal had closed. Queen Octavia's murderer now sat on her throne, feeling victorious, and somewhere hiding from her former fellow judges was Donna Vittoria, the best girl in the world. Armando could feel sorry for himself all he wanted - but in a way that didn't stop him from carrying out the queen's last command. To live. To fight. To stop the outsiders. And no one but the Imperials would help him do that. Rubbing his eyes forcefully with the palms of his hands, the former royal bailiff rose from his bed and went to the campfire to help prepare breakfast. For the first time since the battle. He was in dire need of something useful to do. The change in de Gorazzo had not gone unnoticed. Master Carlon, the black-bearded imperial mage, had offered the Don a sip of wine before the meal with a wry grin, and Captain Valria had joked about his odour and stubble. It was then that Armando realised that this was the first jest he had ever heard from the ever mocking elf. For two twenty-four hours the captain had kept her wit in check, speaking to the don in an exceptionally tactful manner. It is scary to think what torment she was experiencing. In gratitude, the don smiled, promising to go to the barber if possible.
On the road, the Lady Mary, tall, thin and albino-looking because of her snow-white skin and blond hair, approached Armando. The guardswoman leaned towards Armando, holding the reins with one hand and placing the other on the saddlebows, and asked:
- How are you feeling, don?
- Better, - replied de Gorazzo.
- I'm about... physical well-being.
- I have a headache. And my heart is aching, - the don admitted after a brief hesitation. Lady Maria, open, sincere, and good-natured, was the only Imperial for whom Armando had any sympathy. Except for the ghost of her sister Jana, of course. Maria was also really good at medicine.
- That's fine. - The lady nodded gravely. - I'll brew something for you tonight. Drink it before you go to bed, okay? It'll make you feel better.
- Would I wake up in the middle of the night if something happened? - De Gorazzo grinned sadly.
- Don't worry, you'll wake up. - The girl's answering smile seemed faint, inexpressive, but Armando still thought that Maria was very beautiful. And that the blue Guard uniform should suit her better than the black mercenary jacket. That was a good sign. If his thoughts were beginning to revolve around women, then Don de Gorazzo was becoming the same old self. As a warm-up, Armando tried to imagine the pale lady in a dress. Or one undershirt. Or no undershirt. It worked quite well...
The day's journey was shorter than usual. Captain Valria ordered to make camp as soon as the sun touched the horizon. Gathering her companions around the fire, the elfess seated them in a circle, then stood to her full height and walked back and forth. Coughing into her fist, she said:
- We all did a good job back at the fortress. I'm not the only one, as usual - everyone did a good job.
Master Carlon gave a deliberately loud snort. The sharp-eared girl ignored him just as defiantly. She put her hands behind her back and continued:
- The operation against the aliens was paid for in advance by the Duchy of Elvart's treasury, and the "Bright Heads" Company is entitled to additional rewards for success. But Lady Maria, for example, is not a member of the company. Maybe she'll be honoured separately, I don't know. The Duchess didn't say. Anyway, I've decided to honour the squad myself.
- Will you pay double your wages? - the magician suggested.
- No way! - The elfess lifted her chin. - Money is boring. It comes and goes. We need something memorable. First, I wanted to promote everyone. Make Dallan a company lieutenant, Green a sergeant, the rest corporals. Make Maria an honorary sergeant, no pay, but no obligation.
- But? - The mage squinted.
- But that would be having to memorise new addresses! - The captain shrugged. - I'm used to Dallan being a sergeant and Green being a corporal. I'm going to get confused in combat. No, I've got a better idea.
She knelt down in front of the plump saddlebag that was her seat, unzipped the flap. She took out a cloth bundle, unfolded it. Smiling ear to ear, she said:
- Here you go.
- What is it, Lady Valria? - Maria asked with polite curiosity.
On a shabby rag were several light discs the size of the palm of my hand. Each disc had an eyelet through which a scarlet thread was threaded. It looked as if the discs were meant to be worn around the neck.
- They are medals for saving the world, - Valria explained, still smiling. - One for each of them. This one, the biggest one, is mine. The others are the same. Take whichever one looks at whom.
- Are they... wooden? - Master Carlon took one of the medals, held it up to his eyes.
- Yeah. But see how each one has a notch in the centre? You could put a diamond or other gem in there and make the medal really precious. I've also included the option of a gold wire pattern around the edge.
- So you made them yourself? - Armando asked incredulously. He, too, took the medal from the rag and examined it properly in the scarlet sunset light. The smooth wooden roundel was covered with surprisingly fine carvings. The centre of the medal was an image of crossed swords, and the edge was covered with an intricate vegetal ornament that resembled intertwined vines of grapes. On the reverse side was a stylised image of a smiling face wearing a hat and with a long elf ears. De Gorazzo shuddered, involuntarily thinking of Vittoria. Well, no, the captain couldn't have known her way of signing, it was just a coincidence. Besides, the face was carved on all the medals.
- No, I bought it at the shop on the way. - Valria twitched her ears irritably. - Of course I did. I've been working two nights in secret while everyone else was sleeping instead of sleeping myself.
- I didn't know you could... create things, - master Carlon said with a strange intonation, clearly unable to take his eyes off the wood in his palm. - Excellent work, especially if you just carved it with a knife.
- My father is a woodcarver, and not one of the worst. - The girl's voice had a familiar note of smugness in it. She squinted her eyes and lowered her ears like a satisfied cat. - I spent the first fifty years of my life with him. It's the elf's custom - a child lives with one parent for half a century, half a century with the other, learns the professions of both. Then he chooses one or learns a third. I chose my mum's way, but my hands remember.
- I just can't get used to the idea that you have a creative side to you, - the mage grinned, tucking the medal into his pocket. The rest of the squad took the roundels apart as well. Sergeant Dallan put one around the neck of Corporal Green, who didn't seem to understand what was going on. - I thought you only knew how to break things.
- Well, I like to break more, - contrary to the usual, did not take offence at the magician's teasing Valria. - Well, the solemn part is over. Now let's have a quick dinner and I'll be on my way.
- Where to? - the mage frowned.
- Get back. I want to make sure we're not being followed. I'll check the direction to the alien base on the plain first. We're dangerously close to it, and the outsiders know about the attack. I have no idea what their search capabilities are. But I suspect it's extensive. Then I'll look from the gorge. It's unlikely the fortress garrison will be able to reach us now, but it's a long shot...
- You've been on a scouting trip by yourself recently, - the silent Dallan suddenly intervened in the conversation. The sergeant walked over to the elf, taking her hand. - No more. I'm with you.
- I'm sorry, but I'm still the captain. - Valria said the words very softly, almost affectionately. - No one in the squadron has my experience, not even Carlon. Any companion would just be a nuisance. Just... if anything, save me again. Deal?
The sergeant pressed her lips tightly together, but said nothing. Letting go of Valria's palm, she nodded.
- You're in charge. - The elf looked at the black-bearded mage. - Move west as usual, I'll catch up with you during the day. If I'm delayed, don't wait. When you reach the river on the Erdo border, cross it at once.
But the captain did not have to catch up with the troop. The girl burst into the camp at dawn, driving her Snowflake at a gallop. She dismounted in front of the campfire and threw the reins to Maria, who was standing on the watch. She put her palms to her lips and bellowed, panting:
- Wake up! Alert!
Armando stumbled out of the tent without jacket or boots, clutching his sword in hand. He turned his head round, his mind stiff from sleep. The only other people around were company members, equally agitated and half-dressed, except for the guards.
- There's an armed detachment a few hours away, - the elf said, still catching her breath. She spoke in chopped-up sentences, gulping for air. - I saw their camp. A dozen and a half men. And dogs. Went round in a circle, checked the tracks. They're coming from the direction of the alien base. Not exactly behind us, but in the same direction. I couldn't get a close look at the camp, the dogs got in the way.
- Do you think the dogs picked up the trail on the way out of the gorge? - The mage standing next to Armando was hurriedly fastening the hooks of his jacket.
- I don't think so, - the pointy-eared girl shook her head. - Putting dogs after someone isn't as easy as people think. And anyway, I've peppered our tracks. It's just logical to assume we'll be heading for the river crossings, so that's where they're going. Maybe there are other units on other routes. I didn't expect them to react so quickly, or I would have checked sooner.
- Why would they come after us? - De Gorazzo lowered his grandfather's sword, unsure of what to do with it - the scabbard had been left in the tent. - Just to avenge the portal?
- A lot of why. - Master Carlon looked at the Don as if he were an idiot. - To interrogate - who we are, how we found out about the portal, who we're cooperating with, who sent us... The outsiders don't know yet that the Empire has unearthed part of their plans.
- Yes, that's right. - Armando squeezed his eyes shut and patted his cheek. The herbal infusion Lady Maria had brewed for him before bed had been very strong - despite girls promises, the don was still not fully awake. - I'm sorry.
- It was important to get to the river first. - The golden-haired elf took a deep breath, finally calming her breathing. Her ears perked up. - We have a half-day head start, tops. I've seen packhorses in the camp, and they can keep up the pace as well as we can. Once we cross, we'll slow down. We'll clean up our tracks there, too. Not before. Now, we leave at once. Don't worry about camouflage. Speed comes first.
They turned camp and trotted at a trot, occasionally cantering. Valria let Snowflake rest on the spare horse. The elfess herself kept looking up, searching the sky for something. Armando thought that the captain was afraid of alien flying machines, like the one Charcoal had died fighting. It soon became clear that he was only partly guessing.
- Maria, have you read a lot of books, have you read any about animals? - Valria asked out of the blue, turning to the pale girl riding beside her.
- Of course. - The white-skinned lady looked at the elf with slight surprise. - Both about real and mythical beasts....
- Then tell me, are there any birds that can soar all day without moving their wings?
- Yeah. Northern albatrosses, for example. They nest on islands and all along the coast.
- Anything else?
- Well... - the girl guard covered her eyes, remembering. - A desert condor. It lives far beyond the southern steppes.
- Are there any around here? - the captain continued to inquire.
- No. I don't think so.
- And I couldn't remember any too. - Velria pulled on the reins and dismounted. She took out her rifle from the leather case behind her saddle, added powder to the shelf in two movements, lit the wick from her waistband. She raised the gun, took aim as if at the clouds...
- Bang, - the gun rumbled, spitting out a plume of flame and a column of white powder smoke. Elf lowered the weapon, waved her palm in front of her face to disperse the smoke. She grinned:
- Gotcha.
Only now did Armando see the black dot falling. It flickered against the cloudy sky and disappeared from sight, touching the ground far to his right. Valria jabbed her finger at it:
- Come on, let's take a closer look.
- What about the rush? - Master Carlon asked the captain.
- It's important, - the girl didn't explain anything. But her tone was so serious that the mage refrained from asking any more questions. The group changed course. Ten minutes later they saw Valria's "prey". The big brown bird was lying on its belly with its right wing stretched out to its full length. The left wing was only a stumpy stump, probably torn off by a rifle bullet close to the torso. It took Armando a few moments to realise that the bird was not real. The dark plumage had been painted over the smooth matt body, the beak was a crude imitation, and a piece of metal frame protruded from the wing stump.
- Did you know? - Sergeant Dallan asked briefly as the squad stopped at a respectful distance from the bird.
- No. - Valria slowly shook her chin. - I was just thinking back at the fortress - aliens have flying machines. Our necromancers use reanimated birds for scouting, so maybe the aliens have a mechanical analogue? I've been watching the sky all the way, and yesterday I spotted a strange bird. It flew a few times in the distance, and today it circled above us all day. It never flapped its wings once. So I thought I'd take the sin out of it...
- It looks like a kite, - said master Carlon. - In the south, they were flown by wealthy families on festive occasions. In the form of birds, dragons, ...
- It's a spy, - the elf interrupted him. - It didn't attack us, so it was watching us. Yesterday it flew over the plain, and today spotted our squad and tailed us. Now its masters know what crossing we have chosen. It's too late to change plans, other ferries and bridges are too far away. All we can do is pick up the pace.
- Shall we examine the trophy? - Lady Maria suggested it. - Perhaps I'll realise something...
- Screw it. - Valria slapped herself on the thigh. - Stay away. Maybe it's exploding...
Changing horses, the party reached the ferry crossing before sunset, and there was no one waiting for the fugitives. They must have been ahead of the pursuit. The group crossed the river, glancing warily at the darkening sky, and rode away from the shore in the fading twilight. It was then that Valria declared that she and Armando must return. Because she had a plan to maximise the head start by delaying their pursuers across the river. Maister Carlon and Sergeant Dallan looked at each other and sighed heavily. But they didn't argue or ask for details.
Left alone with de Gorazzo, the elfess winked at him, playfully inquiring:
- Don, are you good with a carpenter's drill...?
Chapter 3
The cloaked figure waved at them from the edge of a small grove, and Valria, who was travelling first, raised her palm in greeting. A couple of minutes later, the former royal bailiff and the elven woman rode into the company's camp, tucked among the trees. A cauldron hung over the fire in a freshly dug pit, but the water was not yet boiling. Corporal Green took the reins from them, hissing contentedly from beneath his deep hood. He was always glad when he saw Valria after a separation, even a short one. It was as if he feared that the girl would one day run away. In fact, as de Gorazzo had noticed, the lizard-man was almost more attached to his captain than the green-eyed Dallan.
- I love you, too. - The elfess patted the lizard on the shoulder and, smiling, walked past. Asked: - What's for dinner?
- Water, salt, and a handful of grits, - said master Carlon, sitting by the fire. - The salt will run out soon, by the way. By the look of your ears, everything went smoothly, didn't it?
- Don Armando had a real talent for knocking people out and drilling holes in ship's bottoms. - The girl took off her hat and lowered her long, floppy ears. - I've always been able to see the hidden perspectives in people. I think we've got a day's head start, if not more.
- That's good. - The mage looked into the pot, held his palm over the water. - Because we need to slow down and replenish our supplies. The horses won't get far on grass alone.
- You don't have to teach me, you educated barbarian, - Valria stopped smiling. She lowered herself to the ground beside the mage and gestured for Armando to sit down. - We'll walk until sunset, spend the night in the field once. We'll spend the next night in town. We'll have beds and meat, stalls and fodder for the horses. Everyone will be happy.
- Why the next one? - Bubbles appeared on the surface of the water, and the mage pulled a bag of cereal from his saddlebag. - I looked on the map, and there's a large village about three hours away. Not on the road, but there's bound to be an inn there. Or a vacant barn at least.
- No, we're not going to the nearest village. - The captain unbuttoned her short blue cloak, folded it skilfully. She lay on her back with her long legs stretched out toward the fire, tucking the roll under the back of her head. - We mustn't even be seen there. If anyone asks, the villagers will honestly say that they haven't seen any travellers, and they don't know where we've gone. We'll go round the village in an arc and go straight to a bigger town, where there are more people. And from there - to the sea.
- All right. You've got the city mapped out, right?
- Miroslavl. I don't know anything about it except its name, but it's far enough from the border. - Valria put her hat on her face and spread her arms out to the sides. - You tell me when the food's ready, I'll give my eyes a rest. They're tired and watery.
- She's asleep, - the mage said after a short silence. - Eh, youth...
- She hasn't slept for two nights, - Armando said in a low voice. - I'd forgotten. She seemed so energetic.
- Two nights without sleep is nothing to a child. - Master Carlon grinned as he poured the rest of the grits into the bubbling pot. - But let her nap for an hour or two.
- A child? - de Gorazzo didn't understand. But the mage only hummed in response, concentrating on cooking.
It was past noon. The sun hung high over the grove, its warm rays piercing through the lush summer foliage, covering the ground in an intricate pattern of spots of light. Corporal Green returned to the edge of the forest to keep watch. Lady Maria was brushing her nester horse, occasionally stroking it affectionately with the palm of her hand on its side. Armando thought he should do the same, but Dallan approached the fire. The sergeant leaned over Valria, shook her head. She sat down beside elf, put a hand on her thigh, and asked quietly:
- Have you been to the Republic before, Don Armando?
- No, but I know a lot about it, - De Gorazzo said in her tone. - Republics are commerce, and commerce is always crime. The royal bailiffs have had a lot of dealings with both Erdo and Iolia. Even without visiting them personally. Smuggling, coin counterfeiting, contract killings, espionage...
- Mainland Erdo is said to be very different from island Erdo.
- That's right, - Armando nodded. - The Republic was founded by refugees from the Cherry Islands across the ocean. A few clans lost the civil war and fled to the sea because there was nowhere else to go. They reached the continent just as the First Empire was collapsing and the new powers had not yet formed.
- I know that, Don.
- Of course you do. Everybody does. But the point is that the refugees first settled on the coastal islands. - De Gorazzo raised his palm, showing that he was not to be interrupted any further. - The islands were inhabited by fishermen and pirates, whom the refugees simply slaughtered. That's why the islands of the Republic are now inhabited mostly by the direct descendants of those overseas clans. But the strip of land on the continent was not settled by the Erdosians, but subjugated. These lands have been inhabited by the Virians since pre-Imperial times. A very skilful people, but very fond of fighting with each other. The First Empire pacified them for a while, but when it collapsed, everything went back to the way it was. Every Virian city went to war with its neighbours. The Erdosians made themselves at home and in half a century took over as much land as they could, given the small number of their troops. And some of the cities they subdued not by force, but by word, playing on the ambitions and enmity of the rulers.
- I see. - The sergeant shifted her eyebrows a little, drummed her fingers on Valria's thigh. She, without waking up, jerked her leg. - So there are Virians on the continent...
- Yes, - Armando confirmed. - They are forbidden to settle on the islands of the Republic. Islanders are allowed to move to the continent, but there aren't many who want to. In general, continental Erdo is the same as Daert, without the exoticism. The only real Erdosians there are in garrisons and trading houses. Except that the local nobles, called boyars, like to take Erdosian names while keeping Virian surnames. For example, the Republic's ambassador to the kingdom is Boyar Korobeinikov Musashi. Or the governor of one of the prefectures, Prince Kenji Voronin.
- I'll admit, surnames sound as weird as first names.
- Yeah, you're from... Elvart. - Armando corrected himself at the last moment, almost saying "from the Empire". - But there are Virians in Iolia and Daert... We're used to it.
- Do you know the Erdos language?
- Mostly swear words - Don admitted with a chuckle.
- Ha. Knowledge at the level of a graduate of a military magic school, - master Carlon chuckled softly, sitting with his back to them. The mage was stirring the company's future meal with a long wooden spoon. - I, too...
- Does the Lady Maria know Erdos? - De Gorazzo asked in turn.
- Of course. - The sergeant looked over her shoulder at the girl guard. She had finished grooming the horse and was now washing her hands with water from a flask. - Maria knows everything.
It was said with the unwavering confidence with which a small child speaks of his mother. Armando had never wondered how long the mercenaries had known the pale lady, but given the relationship between her and master Carlon... Yes, it was foolish to think that Maria was merely formally representing her duchess to the company.
- In any case, there should be no problem, - assured the don. - Erdosians mostly know literary Daertian, they are traders and sailors. Even on the islands we'll explain ourselves somehow.
- Thank you, Armando. - The corners of Dallan's lips lifted faintly. De Gorazzo had never seen anything more like a smile in her performance yet. He tried to smile back, feeling a strange chill in his chest. He remembered - the last time the sergeant had called him simply by his first name there, in the mountain grove where the survivors of the storming of the fortress had gathered.
- It was nothing. - Don swallowed, feeling the ice ball under his heart melt away as quickly as it had appeared. Just a second of weakness. It would pass. He had already recovered. Already in control.
- I'll... I'll ask you more later, okay? About... - Dallan hesitated, clearly not immediately thinking of what she wanted to ask. - About the island Erdo.
- Of course. - Looking into the girl's dark green eyes, Armando thought that she already knew everything he had just told her. The difference between the two parts of the Republic, and the names of the boyars. It was just... Dallan trying to support him. To the best of her ability. Awkwardly and clumsily, but sincerely trying to distract him, to keep him busy, to stop him from feeling lonely. And Valria's been doing the same thing recently. The sergeant could drill a hole in the ferry as well as a noble don. But the elf had taken Armando, who she did not know well, rather than a close companion.
- I'm glad to help, - the former bailiff added sincerely. Dallan nodded at him and lay down on the grass. She rested her head on her friend's chest and closed her eyes. Valria shuddered, waking up. She pushed her hat off her face and asked in a sleepy voice:
- Porridge?
- Given the concentration of grits in the cauldron, it's more like soup, - master Carlon said without turning round. - It will be soon. Sleep now.
- I'll fall asleep and you'll eat it all. - Nevertheless, the captain took the advice and put her hat back in its place. She put one arm round Dallan's shoulders. - Look, sly ones, I'm on my guard. I've got a fine ear, I'll hear a slurp....
Chapter 4
The mainland of Erdo was famous for its ship timber, which provided wood for the Republic's shipyards and for city building. Oak timber was used to build houses, churches, fortresses, anything. Armando had heard that even the smallest Virian towns were always surrounded by solid wooden walls and ramparts. The violent history of the Virians had contributed to this. Miroslavl, however, stood out from the crowd - it had no wall at all. The only hint of fortifications was the log tower of the outpost near the trade route.
- If the city doesn't have walls, you can just go around them and seep through the streets, - Captain Valria grumbled as the squad took their place in the queue for the outpost. - What's the point?
- It's more for merchants, - de Gorazzo explained. - You can't haul a cargo through the alleys. It's more like a toll for using the road through the city. But they charge everyone who enters, because why not?
- If there were fewer of us... - the elf yawned, covering her mouth elegantly with the palm of her hand. But she didn't continue. She was already counting out the coins to the guard, and with her trademark smile, which could melt the heart of even a dragon that hadn't been fed for a month, she asked:
- Tell me, sir, why doesn't the town have any fortifications? It looks quite rich and ancient.
- This is our history, madam. - The guard grinned back. Judging by his unadorned armour, he was a simple sergeant, and he didn't deserve to be addressed as "sir". - Miroslavl had revolted many times against the Viceroys. Five times it was burnt to the ground, but it was built again, the place was convenient. On the sixth time they removed the wall and forbade to have fortifications for the future. And the people were brought from other cities, and the former Miroslavians, who were not cut, were settled on the outskirts. There are garrison barracks closer to the centre, and they are fortified properly. If anything happens, the inhabitants will take shelter there too. Whoever has time.
- Thank you, sir, - the elf smiled even more broadly. - Very interesting. Do you know if trade is good in the city? Or do merchants only pass by?
- That's right! - The soldier answer. - There's a bazaar right in the centre. There's a big inn nearby, and stables... They sell everything from gingerbread to steel.
The inn by the marketplace was indeed a substantial one, with a stone ground floor and a wooden second floor, a high roof with a carved ridge, and its own stables. The group left the horses in the care of the stableman, paid in advance for the two common rooms on the upper floor, and gathered in the dining hall for a council. It was a late hour, so there were no extra ears in the hall.
- We'll have to split up, - the captain said, leaning back in her chair. - Carlon and Maria will go to the market to buy supplies and raw materials for their magical endeavours.
- I'm run out of supply, - the black-bearded mage nodded. - You won't find ready-made amulets here, I'm sure. But I can make some of them myself. If only I had the materials.
- Dallan and I will look for a horse trader, - she continued. - I wanted to give the horses a night's rest, but they're too tired. We'll just keep Snowflake and the war stallions. We'll trade the packhorses for fresh ones. Anything will do, it's not far to the harbour, and we won't take them over the sea anyway. As long as they don't limp.
- Good idea, - de Gorazzo agreed. There were only two warhorses in the squad, the sergeant's horse and the raven-haired giant given to Gotech by the queen. Armando use it now.
- And you, Don, will stay with the corporal to look after the rooms, - the knife-eared girl turned to him. - I know those innkeepers. They'll rent the bedrooms to someone else while we're running around town and pretend it's the first time they've seen us.
- With your permission, I'd like to go into town, too, - the former royal bailiff shook his head. - I want to hear what people are talking about. It's been a long time since we've had news.
- Our scholarly couple will listen to the gossip at the market, - the elf promised him. - You'd better get some rest while you can.
- Still... I might learn something useful. I have a thought.
- Don Armando, you shouldn't bother the guards. - Valria glanced at the innkeeper's counter. He was out of sight, but she lowered her voice anyway. - You're a famous person now, you might say.
- Ha. Don't overestimate the cohesion of the Coalition. - De Gorazzo snorted. - We're not in the kingdom anymore, and the republican guards don't care who they're looking for in Daert. Of course, if I go to the patrol myself, identify myself, and tell them what I've done...
- Eh... okay. - The captain has her arms folded across her chest. - Then Dallan will stay at the inn. I'll take Green with me. I don't want to leave him alone in a crowded place. Go, Don. But come back in the light and without company, all right?
The temptation to just wander the market and the streets was great. Armando was tired of life in the fields, and the very sight of the city buildings, the cramped lanes, the people in ordinary, non-road clothes, warmed his heart. But de Gorazzo did not succumb to weakness. He bought a warm flatbread and a couple of green apples from the stall and went straight to the outpost, the one with the log tower. He did not go near the tower, but chose a good place at the back of one of the alleys. The entrance to the town was barely visible from there, but Armando did not need much. He could see the guards levying taxes, but he was invisible, just what he needed. He leaned his shoulder against the wall of a warehouse and chewed on a flatbread until it cooled. He was going to be on watch for a long time, and probably for nothing. It would be good if it was wasted....
Three and a half hours later de Gorazzo almost ran into the inn, holding his hat. He saw Sergeant Dallan at one of the tables and hurried to her.
- Armando. - The green-eyed girl nodded to the don, taking up the clay jug. Two large mugs and an empty saucer of nibbled chicken bones stood in front of her. - Is everything all right?
- No. - De Gorazzo took the mug the sergeant held out and sipped from it. He almost choked when he discovered that the mug was not wine or beer, but apple cider. An autumn drink - in summer? - Where are the others? Back already?
- Yes. - If Armando's worried look bothered the girl, it didn't show on her face. The sergeant poured cider for herself and took a sip. - They're resting upstairs. I'm on guard duty. Waiting for you, too.
- Then let's go quickly. I have something to tell everyone.
They found the squad in one of the rooms they had rented. Master Carlon and Lady Maria were sitting on the spacious bed, side by side, Valria occupied the only stool, and Corporal Green had his feet tucked under him on the floor. When Armando and Dallan entered, Maria was just telling:
- ...Thus, three castles surrendered without a fight, in exchange for the promise of a royal pardon. But the other two refused. King Auguste did not storm them, but besieged them with small forces and moved on. One of the rebellious barons ...
- Welcome back, Don. - The elfess interrupted her with a gesture, turning to the new arrivals. - We're sharing the spoils here. Master and the lady have overheard many curious things at the market, though their ears are small and round. And did you learn the important things you wanted to know?
- Yes. - Armando leaned against the doorjamb, unable to find a place to sit, and took a breath. He swallowed, thinking he should have brought the jug of cider with him - his throat was completely dry. - I watched the guards at the city outpost. The eastern one, the one we'd come through.
- And? - arched a golden eyebrow at the captain.
- Half an hour ago, a rider with a reserve horse rode up to the outpost. Alone. He spoke to the chief of the guard about something. He summoned a soldier from the tower, apparently resting after the last shift. Questioned him in front of the rider. Then let him go. The rider gave the chief of the guard money. But he didn't enter the city. He got on the horse and drove it back.
- Aha... - Valria stretched out, becoming serious in a flash.
- Searching along possible routes. - Master Carlon frowned. - They sent a man to each village along the way, set a point and time for a general gathering... Our company is hard to forget. - For some reason the mage glanced judgementally at the elf. She twitched her ears in response and grinned wryly:
- Yeah, forget us? Impossible. Thank you for your vigilance, Don Armando. I'll think of a special medal for you. With a wide-open eye. With a jewel in place of the pupil. But from now on, share such thoughts in advance. You are not in the desert, but among comrades.
- I... just wasn't sure myself. - De Gorazzo bit his lip. - I suppose we're getting off now?
- No, why? - The elf tilted her head to her shoulder. - There was time to run. We can do better. I've got a plan brewing right now...
- Who would doubt it? - the black-bearded mage squinted.
Valria unhooked a coin purse from her belt, tossed it to Lady Maria:
- Order a nice dinner for the whole group. Take your pick of what you want, don't be shy. We weren't exactly starving on the road, so we shouldn't burst a gut. I'll have some baked ribs or just some roast meat. Take them quietly up to the rooms and pack them up without anyone seeing. Pack your things beforehand, too. But in the common room, act like you're in no hurry. Try to take your naps one at a time.
- I take it you won't be at dinner? - The mage specified.
- I don't know, I might make it back in time. - The elf stood up, pulling on her gloves. - You're coming with me now, by the way.
- Where to?
- Into the darkest alleys of this town. We're also going to pay a second visit to the horse trader. We'll have to tell him there's been a slight change of plans...
...Perhaps it was because Miroslavl was built of wood that it had no street lamps - even over the doors of shops and drinking establishments at dusk there were no oil lamps like in white-stone Daert. When the moon was obscured by clouds, the only source of light in the city were the windows of the houses, which glimmered cosily yellow. But as midnight approached, they too were extinguished. The town was sleeping peacefully when the clatter of horses' hooves sounded over the main street. The riders, wrapped in black cloaks, whirled past dwellings, past merchant warehouses, empty stalls and closed shops. They passed the deserted marketplace and found themselves in front of an inn. Some of the cavalry rode round the building, closing the ring. Five of them dismounted. Three of them took out from under their cloaks short, intricately shaped rifles, the weapons of aliens from another world. They were the first to enter the inn through the main entrance. The two remaining men, swords drawn, followed them. Soon one of the strangers ran outside and took aim at the first floor windows. With a commanding gesture, he sent four men into the inn. A minute later, a blinding white flash erupted in the windows of the dormitories, even through the murky bull's bubble that replaced the glass. A muffled rumble echoed through the market quarter.
- It's familiar, - Valria whispered, pressing her ears to her temples. - A bomb that doesn't kill, but stuns with light and sound. I've seen it work a couple of times... at closer range. Aliens throw it into a room before the assault begins, usually.
The elf and the former bailiff were watching from the roof of the grain barn across the street from the inn. The captain had noticed it during the afternoon reconnaissance. The barn towered over the neighbouring buildings, and it was unguarded as it was now empty.
- Well, are you satisfied? Can we go now? - Armando asked.
- Yeah. It was worth the risk. - Valria moved a little way down the planks, rolled over onto her back. De Gorazzo followed the elf's example. The slope of the roof now kept them safely out of sight of the inn. - So there were three aliens. Alien fighters, at least. But I don't think they'd drag some peaceful healer or clerk to do such a thing. The others are locals.
- Our goal seems to be to get away from them," - Don said. - Then it doesn't matter how many men there are, or what they're armed with.
- The commander knows what's important and what's not, don. - The captain wagged her finger at Armando. - Just because we want to avoid a fight doesn't mean we will.
- Do you have a plan? - De Gorazzo suggested, and he couldn't help but laugh.
- It will be, - the girl assured him. - In the meantime, we'd better get on our feet.
The hardest part was getting the horses out of the inn's stables - in front of everyone, but without anyone noticing. Valria's deal with the horse trader had helped. The elfess herself had suggested using her as a cover, though master Carlon had worked out the details. In the evening, the fugitives brought new horses to the stables and led the old ones away, loudly discussing the exchange. On the way, Snowflake and the war stallions were separated from the small herd and hidden in the yard of a pottery shop on the outskirts, the owner of which had received a few coins in advance. The rest of the horses were safely exchanged for new ones with additional payment - the fact was that the animals brought to the inn were only "rented" by Valria for a day. They were to return to their stalls in the morning, but the fresh horses were left to wait for the night outside the city, under the reliable guard of Green. As soon as the last passers-by had disappeared from the streets of the town, the party left their rooms without any noise. One by one, the fugitives slipped through the dining hall without waking the innkeeper. Each knew his task. Valria and Armando went to settle the roof of the barn, Sergeant Dallan to retrieve Snowflake, and mage and Lady Maria to relieve the corporal. The innkeeper and lodgers of the establishment could not now, even with a knife at their throats, tell where and when the newcomers had gone. To reconstruct the picture of the escape, the pursuers had to scour the whole town and interrogate a lot of people ...
- You seem to like working with me, Captain, - said de Gorazzo, as they descended the ladder from the roof of the barn.
- You're just new to the company, - the elf answered him, gripping the small crossbow more comfortably. - It's like a mother paying more attention to her youngest child. Hold on to my cloak, don. Let's run. You humans can see in the dark like chickens....
The winding streets that Valria had been studying all day took them to a vacant lot where Dallan was waiting with the horses. The sergeant tossed Snowflake's reins to them without asking any questions, and got into the saddle of her stallion. Led by the captain, the trio left Miroslavl in a hurry to catch up with the other half of the troop. Carlon, Maria and Green had been travelling away from the city for several hours already, and not straight to the sea...
Chapter 5
- There is a proverb that says a fugitive has a thousand right roads, but a pursuer has only one. It doesn't work if the pursuers know where the fugitive wants to go. So there are only two ways for both us and the pursuit, - Captain Valria said grimly as the party crossed a shallow stream, travelling along its bed first. The elf forbade wasting time on more cunning ways to confuse the trail. - Like a coin toss. Let's assume that our tireless friends have already guessed that we plan to board the ship. If that's the case, there's a one in two chance they're still after us.
There were only two harbour towns within a reasonable distance from Miroslavl - the rich trading town of Irnitsk, the terminus of several trade routes, and the modest fishing town of Varlahan. The latter lay on the shore of a quiet bay, a little place where smugglers' ships occasionally visited, ready to accept any cargo without any questions asked. It was most logical for the fleeing free company to head there. That was probably the reason why Valria had chosen Irnitsk. Although, quite possibly, the captain simply feared that there would be no smugglers in the bay, and the fishing shells would not be able to transport her adored Snowflake across the sea. Don Armando strongly suspected that for the elfess, the life of a horse and the lives of fellow humans were on roughly the same bar. High enough, as he could ascertain, but still....
They spent the last night on their way to the sea in the ruins of a round white stone pavilion, where not only one of the walls but also part of the domed roof was still intact. The light-coloured stones had been chipped by the rains, the tiled floor had been broken by the roots of a nearby oak tree, but the ruins looked remarkably beautiful, as if they had been built here for decoration. Beneath the surviving wall stood a pagan idol on a square pedestal with its head smashed off and its arms broken off. It was no longer possible to recognise which god it represented. The torso of the statue was entangled with a thorny vine. At its feet were cobblestones, covered with the lingering traces of fire - someone had camped here before, more than once or twice.
- A portal station of the Old Empire, - explained master Carlon, while the tall Lady Maria, standing on tiptoe, was chopping a dry oak branch for the fire with an axe. - The great road must have passed somewhere nearby. Portals weren't built inside towns or on highways. A burst of raw magic in the event of a malfunction could cover a large area. - The mage looked around, as if trying to imagine what the pavilion had looked like centuries ago. - Once there had been stables for the postal service and a garrison standing here - a squad of legionnaires, a group of mages who maintained the archway. The portals were used mostly by government officials, primarily couriers and servants of the law. But private citizens were allowed in for a large sum of money.
- I saw a working station near Gartond, - Captain Valria said. Leaving her horse outside the circle of collapsed walls, she approached the statue and touched the green shoots of the vine with her fingers. Plucked a leaf. - A building just like this one, only not ruined. And with the Creator's Symbol in place of the statue.
- A few portal stations survived in the lands of the Eastern Empire. - Lady Maria tossed a felled branch into the fire, shaking the woody debris out of her hair. - No new ones are being built - technically possible, but too expensive.
- Here in the west, the portals were destroyed deliberately. - Armando decided to flaunt his modest knowledge, which he had learnt not from books, but from chattering over a drink. However, Vittoria, who had a scholarly title, mostly told him clever things over a glass of wine, so these conversations could be considered private lessons. - When the Ancient Daert shattered, no one wanted a door to their neighbouring usurper's domain, even if they couldn't get an army through it. Portal arches were broken, their blocks with glyphs were smashed to dust with hammers, drowned in the sea, buried in the ground....
- Carlon, do you feel magic here? - The captain asked, lowering her voice for some reason. She clutched the torn leaf in her fist.
- No. - The black-bearded maestro waggled his chin in denial. - For so many centuries there was nothing left. Even the stones forgot...
The night was quiet, but Armando could not sleep. The detachment settled down for the night without tents, and, lying under a warm blanket, the former royal bailiff looked at the stars, then at the dying fire, listened to the even breathing of the sleeping people and the quiet steps of the sentry walking around the camp. It was not excitement that prevented him from sleeping. On the contrary, he felt more relaxed than ever before. And that... was wrong. As he said good night to the Imperials, Armando caught himself thinking of them as comrades. Not temporary travelling companions or useful allies. Comrades, exactly. Friends. As long as his true friends, Gotech and Minerva, had been with de Gorazzo, he had kept himself apart from everyone else. Now... It was a weakness, perhaps. A man cannot survive so much adversity without support. He needs friends, loved ones, someone to lean on. Sympathy from strangers is always seen as an empty formality, like condolences at a stranger's funeral. And Armando, barely recovered from the shock, involuntarily began to look for people who could take the place of lost loved ones. The Imperials were kind to him. There was a logic to it, as in almost any action that a man takes unknowingly, but still Don de Gorazo felt ashamed. Driven by guilt, he tossed and turned in his bed as the disc of the moon crept across the velvet of the sky over the ruins. When Lady Maria came on guard, Armando wanted to get up and ask her to brew some sleepy potion, but he changed his mind out of sheer childish stubbornness. So after breakfast he climbed into the saddle, sleepy, exhausted, and with swollen, red eyes. As it happened, Valria, who had slept well for the first time in three days, was talking non-stop and exuberant, which made the don's sympathy for her fade....
Irnitsk, unlike Miroslavl, was fortified properly - an earthen rampart studded with sharp stakes, an oak wall with covered galleries, stone gate towers, and a moat full of water. The defence against bombardments was mediocre, but the city could not fear any dashing raid from the land side. There were four gates in the wall, and the group passed through the busiest, squeezing between two merchant wagons. Just in time - soon the street was crowded with soldiers marching in columns. Real Erdosians, not Virians in Republican armour - stocky, round-faced, dark-eyed. They stretched from the harbour to the gate across the city, humming a rhythmic song in Erdosian.
The fugitives instead took a table in a tavern and left their horses at the stable. Armando, Carlon and Valria, as the most enterprising, headed for the harbour separately. Before parting, the elfess said to Don de Gorazzo, "This time, try to find someone... law-abiding. In moderation, of course. No criminal types." The story with the river pirates was still vivid in the former bailiff's mind, so he nodded silently. But he decided to begin not with the wharf, but with the taverns of the harbour. He chose, however, relatively decent ones, where the sailors of merchant sailing ships, not bandits, were supposed to drink their wages. Alas, he was disappointed. There were a lot of ships going to the Republic Islands, but they all left in three or four days, at least. This was no good - if the chase had not lost track of them, the group had barely a day's head start. One suspicious-looking skipper agreed to go to sea "even today", but demanded a huge sum in gold, and in advance, and another sailor, who called himself the first mate of the merchant holk, promised to talk to his captain. Both options did not look encouraging. Finally, the former bailiff reached a tavern in the middle of nowhere, the signboard of which was decorated with the image of a mouse or a rat clutching a gold coin. The tavern differed from in that it was one storey long, like a northern raider's house. The boarded-up building stretched from south to north, though the main room was rather cramped. "Maybe there's a warehouse and living quarters behind the partition?" - Armando surmised, approaching the innkeeper's counter. There were hardly any customers at the square tables, but there was a muffled noise coming from the wall behind the counter.
- Good day, - De Gorazzo said, not even trying to force a smile out of himself.
- Do you want a drink or...? - The innkeeper paused meaningfully, looking at his guest. He seemed to be expecting him to finish the broken phrase. Instead, Don de Gorazzo, driven mad by two hours of conversations with very slippery personalities, laid out the purpose of his visit - he needed a ship to the islands, preferably to the capital's Etaido. A big one, to take not only men but also three horses, with a decent captain who would not change course and throw overboard the contents of the hold at the sight of a patrol galleys. And to leave today.
- No one bigger than a fishing boat goes to sea today, that's for sure. - The innkeeper answered phlegmatically, resting his elbow on the bar. - Otherwise... I think you should have a chat with the "Elena's" navigator. I don't think you'll find anything better. And she's leaving before anyone else, either tomorrow or the day after.
- Where can I find him? - Armando laid a couple of coins in front of the owner of the place.
- Her. Here. At the hippodrome.- The innkeeper pointed his thumb behind his back.
- Her? - The don asked incredulously. - And what kind of hippodrome is this?
- Er, you'll see. - His interlocutor grinned a yellow-toothed grin. - Go through that door. You'll recognise the navigator at once, don't doubt it.
Armando went through the door behind the counter and found himself in a long hall, packed with people. After a few seconds, however, he realised that there were not so many people, but that the whole middle of the rectangular room was taken up by a huge low table, with people crowded along the walls. The room was well lit by the trapdoors in the ceiling, and Don de Gorazzo could easily see that the thick table top was covered by a tightly stretched fine net. Suddenly something dark, small, swift flashed beneath the netting. "That's not a table! - realised the ex-bailiff. - It's a labyrinth!" Now everything fell into place. The tavern with the rat on the sign served as a rat race. Don had heard of such entertainment many times, and even knew the details, though he had never seen a rat race with his own eyes - in Daert people preferred cards and dice. Rats were launched at one end and baited at the other. Bets were placed as at a regular horse race. A good labyrinth cost a decent amount of money and was partially disassemblable. Only the outer walls remained permanent, the partitions inside were sometimes moved, confusing the route.
- The race was almost over. - The don was approached by a bald man, apparently acting as a steward. - But there will be two more. "Domestic". Will you place a bet?
"Domestic" was the name given to races where players were allowed to use their own rats - Armando remembered that. He shook his head:
- I'm looking for a man here. "Elena's" navigator.
- Ah. - The steward pointed his finger. - There it is.