Chapter 15

  Four days had passed since the battle in the Black Brooks Valley. The Imperial party, joined by Armando and Minerva, had been travelling in maddening zigzags, keeping off the roads and settlements, but never straying far from the unfortunate battlefield. The first nights the fugitives spent without fire, hiding either in a deep ravine or in a forest thicket. It was only at the last stop that Captain Valria allowed them to make a full camp. When Armando came out of his tent early in the morning, he saw that the fire in the deep pit was already burning, giving off almost no smoke, and the bearded master Carlon was putting a pot of water on it.

  - Good morning, noble don, - the mage said, noticing the bailiff out of the corner of his eye.

  - Good morning, - mumbled de Gorazzo, who had not yet fully recovered from his strange dream. The young official sat down on a cloth near the fire and rubbed his temples with vigour. He took a breath of air in his chest and told the imperial mage everything that had happened to him that night. The black-bearded mage curved his lips in disbelief, but eventually became interested:

  - It sounds very interesting, but I don't know enough to understand it. I'm a practitioner, not a university archmage or a churchman. But I know someone who can help us, Don.

  A quarter of an hour later Lady Maria, who was tending the horses, returned, and the bailiff repeated his story to her. The white-skinned girl listened to Armando with much less scepticism. She even asked to repeat the beginning of the conversation. Finally, after thinking over the story, she smiled her faint, inexpressive smile:

  - You're in good company, Don Armando. There are half a dozen cases like yours mentioned in historical books and scholarly works. Of these, four are confirmed and unquestionable. In all cases, the deceased monarchs appeared in dreams to their close relatives. Usually to their heirs. That is, emperors, kings, princes, dukes.

  - I am absolutely certain that my family has never been related to the royal family in any way, - Armando announced glumly, peering into the kettle, which was already bubbling with liquid porridge. The squad was running low on provisions.

  - You can never be sure of such things, - the imperial mage said with a quiet chuckle, pushing the bailiff away from the pot with a wooden spoon. - But I think it's really not the blood, but the oath. Octavia's closest living relative is Duke Auguste. I have no doubt that the queen would be more than happy to appear to him in a dream, but not to have a peaceful conversation.

  - More often than not, the spirits of the dead used the right of last conversation to inform their loved ones of important information that they had not had time to pass on during their lifetime, - Lady Maria continued. - For example, Julius the Third, who ruled before the collapse of the old empire, died without leaving a legitimate offspring, and appeared to his niece to tell her that in the south of the country lives his bastard, of whom no one but Julius himself knew. True, all this eventually led only to civil war, and the poor young bastard boy was crucified...

  - But the queen didn't tell me anything important. - Armando mentally ran through the unusual conversation in his head. Unlike a normal dream, it was not forgotten after waking up - the bailiff remembered every detail. - So, the conversation itself was not the promised help... There was something else.

  - Let's just trust Octavia, - Master Carlon suggested. He scooped up the porridge, sniffed it, and poured it back into the cauldron without tasting it. - The queen said we would soon see for ourselves, and I suppose we will. There's no need to guess at nothing. It's enough that we've seen that your conversation, Don, was in fact possible. You did not dream it out of upset feelings.

  They had no time to eat breakfast before a corporal on duty in the top of a tall tree gave a loud hiss to announce the return of the scouts. Captain Valria and her trusty sergeant had left the previous day, just after setting up camp. The elven woman wanted to not only look around the area, but also to ask someone about news. There was, of course, the danger of being recognised - after all, the sharp-eared girl had been a prisoner at once, and her descriptions could be spread across the spy networks of outsiders. On the other hand, a young elven lady travelling in the company of a bodyguard did not attract much attention - young elves often went on long journeys to indulge their curiosity. So the captain found the risk acceptable. And this time she was not mistaken - the scouts returned at a quiet trot, without a chase on their tails. And in the company of an unexpected companion.

  It was impossible not to recognise the black-skinned giant riding a huge horse beside the girls, and Armando decided to himself that the day was off to a good start. As soon as the three rode into the camp, Gotech immediately dismounted to embrace Minerva, who ran up to him. Valria, who jumped down easily, looked at them with a good-natured smile and told her comrades:

  - The headman of a village that Dallan and I were passing through wanted to hire us to kill a monster. He said that after the battle an ogre with black skin and iron claws had settled in the forest behind the village. He frightened children and women when they went for berries, and there were no men left in the village, the baron had taken them all to the army. Somehow we realised at once what kind of ogre he was. We took a sack of potatoes, a bunch of vegetables and went to the forest. After the beast.

  - What were you doing in this forest? - Armando asked his friend, holding back a laugh.

  - Hiding, of course. - The giant pulled away from Minerva, grinning broadly. - I was swept up in the battle, carried with the cavalry all the way to the rebel camp. I joined the royal soldiers there, and when I learnt that the queen had been killed, I fled in disguise. I knew you'd be looking for me, but I thought Lady Yana would find me first, at night. And then I heard someone singing in Elvish at the edge of the forest... By the way, Armando. It's not true, is it, that you're killed the queen?

  - I do what? - De Gorazzo interrogated, instantly losing all his good humour.

  - Now, wait a minute! - Captain Valria raised a hand in a long brown glove. - I smell food. Then I've timed it right, and you haven't eaten the last of your porridge without me and Dallan. I order you all to breakfast. We'll talk over the meal.

  It was too late to cook the captain's potatoes, but the fugitives diversified their meagre breakfast by adding some fresh vegetables to the liquid porridge. Playing with her spoon like a child, Valria began to tell her story:

  - We visited three villages where there were people at all, and talked to some people on the road. The news is bleak, especially for our friends in the kingdom. Grand Duke Auguste has accused Don Armando and Gotech of the Queen's murder. Of course, you were acting in collusion with imperial spies.

  - Surprisingly enough, he was right here, - de Gorazzo said with a chuckle. The young man wasn't surprised; it was the kind of move one would have expected from the duke in the first place.

  - Auguste had quickly pardoned the surviving barons and was rushing to the capital with his entire army. - The elfess stopped fooling around and began to eat. - Things are bad there. There is talk of fighting in the streets. The archmage has been killed, Marshal de Cotoci was attempted but only wounded. The Marshal tried to declare a state of siege in the capital, but half the garrison turned out to support the Duke of Veronne. Clashes began, Auguste's personal troops entered the city. Octavia's supporters were squeezed in the northern quarters. They were supported by some of the townspeople - the Queen was still loved by the people, but the Duke was not. Blood is flowing. I understand that in Daert they are not completely sure that Octavia is dead, there are rumours that the Duke wounded and captured her. So the resistance to him will last for a while, hardly long. The Loyalists simply have no one to fight for, Octavia has no heirs to raise those to the banner, after all. In the country at large, it's the same. Some castles have locked their gates, some towns have followed suit. Trouble, but brief. Once Auguste arrives in Daert and takes the crown, things will settle down quickly. Most likely.

  Sergeant Dallan tugged at the captain's sleeve, nodding at Armando:

  - Tell him.

  - About what? - The bailiff was wary.

  - Yes..., - the elfess turned dark, dropping the tips of her ears to her shoulders. - Don Armando, the Duke's supporters accused the court necromancer of murdering the royal archmage. Donna Vittoria, your acquaintance.

  - Those bastards! - De Gorazzo burst out. He had hoped to the last that Vittoria's participation in the Queen's affairs would remain unknown to the traitors.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  - When Auguste's soldiers broke into her mansion in the capital, there was no one there but the necroconstructs, - the long-eared girl hurried to reassure Armando. - Apparently, the donna was warned, or she managed to escape in time. They're looking for her now, just like they're looking for you, Don.

  - Captain, forgive me, I must leave you, - said de Gorazzo firmly. The bailiff tried to jump up, but Gotech stretched out a mighty heavy hand, laid it on his friend's shoulder, and forced him to stay where he was. He said judiciously:

  - Don't be daft. If she didn't cover her tracks well, she'll be caught and killed before you get to Daert. If she covers her tracks well, you won't find her yourself. Vittoria's smart, she's got lots of money and great connections. The last thing she needs right now is you getting in the way.

  - And we didn't bring the forest beast with us for nothing; it gives excellent advice. You will heed them, Don, - said the captain, and was promptly given a hard slap by her sergeant. - Ouch! Okay, I apologise. That was really rude. But you know what the best part is?

  The elfess took half of a peeled carrot and waved it:

  - They talk about killer bailiffs, they talk about a treasonous necromancer, they even talk about imperial spies, though without specifics. Not a word is said about the dragon knight who rescued the assassins from the battlefield.

  - Nothing surprising, really, - Donna Minerva shook her head. She always ate with the party, though she spent the rest of her time with Charcoal. - If Duke Auguste accused me of anything, he would be forced to either declare war on my family or demand that my family obey the law and help him capture me. The family could easily refuse, and the Duke's authority would be shaken. He hasn't even been crowned yet. And dragon knight clans stick together if someone from the highest authority opposes them. They can bicker amongst themselves all they want, but they've always been united against kings without hesitation.

  - It's tough out here in the west. - The elfess finished her carrot and tossed the stump into an empty porridge bowl. - All those clans and dukes who can disobey the supreme authority...

  - What are we going to do now? - Armando interrupted her.

  - Yes, it's an important question, - the captain agreed, pushing the dishes away. - Time is very short - we must act before the chaos settles in the country. If that happens, we'll be caught by the throat. We could, of course, go after Auguste right now and try to take him out before he's crowned. It would be a good blow to the conspirators, but the whole problem remains. The Duke is not the only strong ally of the outsiders. And we can hardly survive such an event. The other option is retreat. We have important information to pass on to the Empire. We have prepared escape routes. Every month in several ports of the Coalition stop merchant ships from the East, whose captains have secret instructions - to take our group on board and at any cost to bring home if necessary. Naturally, we will take our new friends with us, provided they wish to do so. "Bright Heads” don't abandon allies, and I don't care if anyone in the Empire doesn't like it.

  - I can already sense from your tone that there is a third option, - Master Carlon squinted.

  - Yes, - the elf answered simply. - From the interrogation of the prisoner and the analysis of the captured papers translated by Maria, we now know where the portal linking our world with the world of strangers is located. It is an old mountain fortress at the junction of three borders - Iolia, the kingdom and the continental possessions of the Republic of Erdo. Destroying the portal, if discovered, was one of our squad's missions. So let us fulfil it.

  - A fortress..., - the black-bearded mage said slowly, as if tasting the word. - With a garrison. In the very rear of a hostile state. Where a whole crowd of mages should be working.....

  - Demonologists, - the elven woman clarified. - Five to ten people. They were still studying the portal.

  - It's beautiful.

  - Consider the good points. The prisoner told me that the ruined old fortress around the portal had not been rebuilt for secrecy purposes, and that there were no outsiders in its garrison.

  - I haven't heard the last of that, - the mage said. - Why not?

  - They have some kind of pact. The outsiders control the portal from their end, the Order from theirs. The outsiders have their own base in the lowlands, a few hours' ride from the fortress. And mind you, we don't need to take the fortress by storm and slaughter the garrison, just get to the portal somehow. - The golden-haired elf smiled such a charming smile that Armando swallowed involuntarily. - I'm sure I'll work something out on the spot. I just need to see the target with my own eyes.

  - So your plan is to get to the fortress, get inside, destroy the portal...

  - And then retreat to Erdo, move to the island part of the Republic. A ship will pick us up from there. There's a port in Erdo where they'll be waiting.

  - It sounds... not suicidal, - the master said thoughtfully, stroking his thick beard. - I mean, the plan basically takes into account that we might not even die. That doesn't sound like you, long-ears.

  - The closer one gets to old age, the more cautious one becomes, - Velria snorted. - Years go by, you know... getting older. But there is one more thing I would like to clarify. Will the noble Don Bailiffs and the beautiful Donna Knight join us? I have no intention of forcibly keeping them in the troop, but I'm afraid travelling with us and then fleeing to the Empire is the safest way for them. However, if the dons have their own ideas...

  Armando glanced at Gotech and Minerva. After waiting for their nods, he answered for all of them:

  - We don't have our own ideas. Not yet, anyway.

  - Aren't you afraid you'll be called traitors already? - The mage raised his eyebrows. - You may have to act against the interests of the kingdom.

  - I am not a great patriot, - Armando smirked. - I liked Queen Octavia, and for her sake I was ready to do deeds, but for the sake of the country itself... If acting against the interests of the kingdom means acting in the interests of the whole world, and therefore of myself, why not?

  - You said it - I heard it. - The elfess turned to Lady Maria. - I need paper and something to write on. You have some, don't you?

  - Yes, Lady Valria. But why?

  - Draw up contracts, of course, - the captain shrugged. - I have three recruits in my company.....

  ...The next night, Donna Minerva stayed in camp for the first time, sharing a tent with Gotech. In general, the whole group was in pairs before going to bed - the knight with the giant, the captain with the sergeant, master Carlon with Lady Maria. The lizard-corporal did not recognise tents, making his own bed of grass like a giant bird's nest. When all but the sentries had gone to bed, Armando mentally labelled the camp a "den of debauchery" and proudly retired to his bachelor dwelling. He fidgeted on the hard bed for a long time, tormented by doubts and thoughts about tomorrow, turning from side to side, trying to pull the crumpled blanket over his head and legs, until he felt that the tent was sharply and intensely cold. As he sat up, Don saw two yellow lights in front of him. In a panic, he found the pouch with the magic stone and shook it out onto his palm. The golden glow dispelled the darkness, and Armando found that he was no longer alone. Lady Jana was sitting on the ground beside the cot, her feet tucked under her in soft boots in the steppe manner. In her lap she held the scabbard of her long sword. The ghost seemed to have already recovered from the wounds she had received in the fight with the demons - the white glowing scars were gone, the lady's body was not translucent. She looked almost tangible. Meeting eyes with the bailiff, the girl touched her chest with the palm of her hand and tilted her head. Armando already knew that this was her usual way of apologising for sudden appearances, so, clearing his throat, he said:

  - It's all right. Did you want something?

  The dead guard straightened up and looked him in the face again. De Gorazzo swallowed. The lady's yellow lynx eyes must have been cold and frightening when she was alive, and when she became a ghost... On the other hand, there was no hint of threat in her posture or expression.

  - Um... - Armando hesitated. What the ghost wanted from him, the young man did not understand. For a minute or two he and the lady just stared at each other. De Gorazzo thought - what was Jana doing when she was out of sight? He used to think that she was going somewhere in the realm of souls, but now he realised how silly that was. Ghosts don't bounce back and forth between worlds, they're bound to the lands of the living. That's what they are. So the Guardswoman just waits all day long for the moment when she's needed? Can she sleep? All his life, since childhood, Armando had been afraid of the dead - even more than the living. Perhaps his mother and her creepy family tales were to blame, or some forgotten childhood experience. But his closeness to Vittoria and his recent conversation with the queen's spirit had eased that fear. Looking at the swarthy beauty, whose body had probably long ago been scattered to ashes in the tomb of the Elvart dukes, Armando felt a sharp pity for her. Not even that - respect, mixed with sympathy. After all, Jana had condemned herself to such an existence voluntarily, for the sake of the woman she wished to serve in death. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers. With a wry grin, he suggested:

  - Lady, I've just had an idea... You must be bored in the evenings, right? Your sister, Maria, has a saddlebag full of books. I know she's read them all long ago. I'm sure it's not just scholarly works and reference books. Let me ask her for something interesting in the morning. Come back next night and I'll read aloud to you while I'm asleep. Would you like that?

  Yellow cat eyes gleamed as Lady Yana broke out into a smile. She nodded slowly. She took the scabbard from her lap and placed it on the ground beside Armando's bed. Silently she patted the weapon with the palm of her hand. De Gorazzo looked at it, and only now noticed that the sword was not the one that always hung on the ghost's belt. Lady Jana used a very simple knight's blade without any ornamentation. The weapon she had placed in front of her now looked completely different, with a gilded guard inlaid with scarlet jewels, a black leather hilt, and a similarly coloured scabbard bound with gilded rings.

  - It's... it's Octavia's sword! - Armando exhaled. There was no doubt about it - it was the sword the queen had used to fend off the assassins on the day of the first assassination attempt, the sword she had leaned on with her last strength after being shot three times in the chest....

  The Lady Guardian nodded once more, picked up the ghost blade, stood up, and walked quickly out of the tent - right through the wall. The piercing cold that accompanied the ghost's appearances began to recede. The young man suppressed the first impulse to rush outside and wake master Carlon or Lady Maria. The matter was quite bearable until morning. Hiding the glowing pebble, he pulled the blanket up to his chin and whispered into the void:

  - Vittoria told me that in ancient times necromancers were priests who could speak to the souls of the dead, not magicians like her. When I see Vittoria again, I'll tell her that of the two of us, I'm the real necromancer now....