Chapter 16

  Phlecius was one of the many river ports on the banks of the Senara. The wide and calm river rolled its waters first across the Daertian plain towards the mountains, then turned steeply westwards into Iolia to flow into the sea. Of course, on such a convenient "waterway" the traffic did not stop day and night - barges with grain and ship's timber were driven downstream, and ships with all kinds of goods from both republics were coming upstream. The chaos that had engulfed the kingdom was too short-lived to stop trade altogether, and the main events were unfolding further east. Armando was confident enough to assume that he could find a ship in the port of Phlecius, ready to take on board a company of very suspicious passengers. Travelling along the river promised to save the squad a few days, and the horses needed rest long ago. Captain Valria listened to the proposal of the now former royal bailiff with a strange grimace on her face, but finally approved it:

  - Good idea, Don. That's what we'll do.

  - What about what you said about ships? - Master Carlon smirked. - You mean, "hanging out in the middle of the sea on a rotting piece of wood"?

  - That's right, in the middle of the sea. There's nothing wrong with ships when you can see the shore from the deck and you can't be swept out to the open ocean by a storm. - The elfess twitched her ears before turning to Armando again: - But maybe I should go. You're a wanted man, Don. You might be recognised and captured.

  - Under present conditions, my description has hardly reached every town in the kingdom, - de Gorazzo shrugged. - And in places like this harbour, the guards are not very diligent. I should go, because I know who to turn to if I can't just charter a ship.

  Armando was being a little deceitful. He had never done any illegal business far from the capital, and he was not personally acquainted with the local smugglers - he only knew how to get in touch with them. It was for the best, though - Messire Snake's friends would be interested in the queen's fugitive murderer. In any case, the elf did not ask him for details. De Gorazzo left alone, as he had planned, only asking master Carlon and Lady Maria to escort him from the camp to the path. On the way, he told the scholarly couple about the ghost's night visit. Straightforwardly he asked:

  - Could there be a sword ghost? I mean, Octavia's sword is probably next to her body right now.

  - The Erdos and their kin from the Cherry Islands would say that a sword ghost is perfectly normal, - the pale girl smiled faintly. - The islanders believe that everything has a soul, even an old carpet-beating stick. But if you look at it scientifically ...

  - Jana has no sword at all, - said master Carlon. - Her whole body, even her clothes, cloak, and armour, are made of a single material, ether. When she fights intangible enemies like demons, it is not steel, but energy and will. The sword is just a convenient form of... focus for her, so to speak. Lady Jana focuses her power in what she imagines to be the sword she's used to in life. So the sword in the ghost's hands is just a visual reflection of that power. A symbol.

  - Then the Queen's sword is also a symbol? - the former bailiff guessed.

  - Right. - The mage scratched his beard. - The blood of kings has sacred powers, Octavia told you herself. The ancient kings and the emperors who succeeded them, even if they weren't mages, could work small miracles, as if they were guides to the will of the gods. By the end of the old empire it was almost forgotten, but... Apparently this is the help the queen promised you. As she left, Octavia shared something with Jana. I think it's a little bit of the sacred power that comes from royal blood.

  - And since the gift was visibly reflected in the form of a sword, and not, say, clothing or anything else, I suppose it would somehow help Yana against etheric enemies. - Maria reached up and unbuttoned the collar of her black jacket. As the sun rose above the horizon, it was getting hotter and hotter. - Indeed, this could be very useful. Of all of us, only Carlon and Jana are able to resist the demonologists' pets.

  The magician and the guard promised to wait until evening for Armando's return, but he entered the city without an escort. As the former bailiff had expected, he had no trouble with the guards. The river port generally lived as if nothing much was going on in the country, except that there were hardly any people or wagons in the streets. But those whom de Gorazzo did notice did not look worried or in a hurry. Before he went to the docks, he stopped at the most crowded tavern and walked around the market square with his ears perked up. Here the desolation was not so keenly felt. Townspeople, newcomers and sailors from the ships crowded around the stalls, exchanging news and talking business. The fragments of conversation that came to Armando's ears were typical of any port, river or sea:

  - Well, not even last night’s storm could wake you. I heard them say we’ve reached kingdom. I’m sure they’ll let us go!

  - I won't give you the stone...

  - You finally arrived, but our records don’t show from where...

  - ...stolen. And so is this alabaster dish. You couldn't have bought it here yourself.

  The latest events in the country were also discussed. In an hour de Gorazzo had learnt enough to begin his main task. Alas, disappointment awaited him on shore. The big Republican galley that was unloading near the wharf was going upstream, the two barges carrying timber were not taking passengers, and besides them there were now only tiny shells in Phlecius, unable to take on board a dozen horses. It was time for a emergency plan. Armando had no trouble finding a tavern in the harbour district by the distinctive smells. Unlike the clean establishment in the market square, it was a one-storey tavern, gaping holes in the boardwalls, and stank in a way that would have killed Captain Valria with her extra-sharp elven senses. Stepping over the crumbling wood that served as the threshold, Don de Gorazzo performed a well-learned ritual. He ordered a strictly defined combination of drinks and snacks from the counter, waited for a chair in the eastern corner of the room to become available, and sat down. Half of what he'd ordered was not only missing from the tavern's storerooms, but couldn't have been - instead, Armando got a mug of the usual local brew and a plate of dried fish. But soon an Erdosian, bald as a cannonball, in loose trousers and a leather sailor's sleeveless coat, came to the table.

  - Would the gentleman mind buying the old riverman a beer? - The stranger asked unceremoniously. He spoke with an Iolian accent instead of Erdos.

  - It all depends on whether the old riverman is willing to keep the gentleman company in conversation. - Armando gestured to the innkeeper to pour another mug. - And it would do well to make this conversation businesslike. You see, I'm travelling, and I don't want to waste time.

  - Travelling on your own? - The Erdosian pushed his plate of fish towards him.

  - On a mission. From a gentleman who loved night birds. - To be on the safe side, Armando referred not to Messire Snake, whose name was closely associated with Daert, but to his "colleague" from another large city, Messire Owl. - I'm delivering something to the south for him.

  - Captain Gianobatto, - the sailor introduced himself, not even extending his hand to shake. Instead, he took one fish from Armando’s plate and sank his teeth into it. - Is it a big load?

  The captains of large ships did not usually scout for customers in taverns themselves, but the strange Erdosian with the Iolian name seemed to be in a bad way. Nevertheless, he assured them that his ship, the “River Nymph”, was capable of taking on a mounted party. Armando left Phlecius in a hurry. Outside the city he travelled thoroughly among the hills, and only when he was sure that no one follows him he returns to his comrades. At the camp the whole party gathered round the fire to hear his report.

  - There's news from the capital too, - Armando added after telling about the deal with the river captain. - Things are not going quite as we expected. The Duke of Veronne has come to Daert and brought Octavia's remains with him. The body was displayed in the palace for all to see. By the way, the bastard now speaks of the queen with all reverence and quashes any talk of her possible imposture. But Marshal de Cotosi did not turn up at the palace. That same night his troops withdrew from the barricades and left the city through the northern gate, taking with them some of the city's militia with their families. When the ducal soldiers set off in pursuit, they found no support from the local peasants - for them, de Veronne's men are foreigners. In some places, they say, the soldiers were even met with pitchforks and axes. They received neither provisions nor clues as to where the Marshal's army had gone. Auguste hastened to crown himself. He declared that the era of the Iderlings, who took the throne names of ancient emperors, was over, and took the crown as Auguste the First.

  - Yes, things don't look like they're going to calm down in the next few days, - Valria nodded. - Where do you think de Cotoci's forces are going?

  - The options are there. - Noticing the elf wrinkling her nose as the wind blew from Armando in her direction, the former bailiff moved closer to the girl. She’s moved away. The loyal Dallan immediately wedged herself between them - though not even she could protect the commander from the tavern odours that permeated de Gorazzo's clothes. - The best thing for them to do was to march south-eastwards in a forced march. Duke Francis de Velonda had publicly announced that he did not recognise Auguste as his king and would not offer him an vassal oath.

  - Velonda is a large duchy, and it's on the border. It has strong castles and large garrisons, - Gotech furrowed his brow. - If the marshal's troops break through there and other discontents with the new king start flocking in, Auguste will be in serious trouble.

  - De Velonda has never been a supporter of Octavia, but he hates Auguste, - Armando confirmed. - He and de Veronne, by the way, are distant relatives. In theory, Don Francis could also claim the crown, but it seems that he preferred to try to get out from under the royal sceptre with his lands.

  - It's all to our advantage, - the elfess concluded, standing up. She put her hands behind her back and walked away from de Gorazzo. - The longer the spiders gnaw at the jar, the less power they have to chase us. I just hope the Empire doesn't decide to take a chance and launch an invasion.

  - Oh, and one more little thing. - Armando covered his eyes with a smile. - People are whispering that Auguste's scouts sent after the Marshal's army were attacked by two dead bears during the night. Killed all the horses in one of the detachments before they were put down. The number of bears, however, increases from narrator to narrator.

  - Dead bears... - Gotech smiled understandingly too. – Looks familiar. There weren't many skilful necromancers in Daert.

  *       *       *

  The Erdosian captain had not arranged to meet them at the piers of Phlecius, but at a river inlet downstream, a place always favoured by smugglers. The squad went there with every conceivable precaution, for even without Armando's hints everyone realised that the riverman could not be trusted at all. Elf and lizard-corporal were the first to arrive, and without being seen by the crew of the “Nymph”, they studied the surroundings and made sure that there was no ambush. During the whole time of loading on board the Charcoal with the rider on his back was flying high in the sky, invisible from the ground, but ready to descend at any sign of alarm. Fortunately, all this proved unnecessary.

  The “River Nymph” was a poorly maintained but really large vessel by river standards. Besides the mast and sails, it boasted ports for oars, eight on each side. The bow of the "Nymph" was decorated with a square platform with a large flat roaster, the stern - a two-tiered turret superstructure. The crew numbered ten, together with the captain. That is - much less than it was required to move on oars. Apparently, the Erdosian had not been able to get a good work for a long time, and some of the crew had simply scattered. The absence of cargo and readiness to move out when it suited the passengers only confirmed this conjecture.

  The horses were at ease at the front of the ship, between the brazier and the mast. The fodder for them was stacked along the sides. The captain gave the lower tier of the superstructure to the passengers, but he himself lived on the upper tier. The lower cabin was cramped and stuffy. It was only possible to stand there with one's head down, and Gotech was almost down on all fours.

  - I'd rather sleep on deck, - admitted master Carlon. - The weather is warm and there should be no rain.

  The golden-haired elven woman's face showed some mental anguish, but the commander of the Bright Heads overcame herself and said with a wry smile:

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  - No. We don't need to show our faces on deck for nothing. There's no chance of anyone seeing us from shore or another ship. We'll sleep here, all of us. And don't go out during the day.

  And so began the second floating voyage of Armando's life. The first time he'd boarded a ship was on his way to Daert to enlist in the royal service - the family estate, now confiscated, was close to one of the small creeks that wound through the flat kingdom. Conditions on that first voyage were much better. But the company was much duller. The four bunks available in the cabin went to the girls and the lizard. Armando took a sailor's hammock, while Gotech had to make a bed on the damp wooden floor. The bottom of the ship seemed to have leaks, for there was always something squelching under the bunks, and a mattress thrown on the floor was soaked with moisture in a matter of hours. Fastening the hammock, de Gorazzo was a little envious of Donna Minerva. Of course, carrying a dragon on a ship was out of the question. So it was agreed with the knight that at night she would follow the "Nymph" stealthily, and in the daytime come down to the ground and rest. After landing at the final point of the route, the party had to give the rider a sign by lighting a coloured fire on the shore.

  The next four days were a real rest for the squad - the unwilling allies slept a lot, diligently reduced the stock of provisions bought in the port, and exchanged stories. Master Carlon built a homemade rod and tried to fish for bread crumbs - to no avail, but the magician enjoyed the process. The ship's crew was quiet, shunning the passengers. The sailors often cast interested glances at the girls, but the glances never went further than that. Still, Captain Valria did not allow her companions to relax. Elfess assigned night watches, told everyone to keep their weapons handy and regularly check the serviceability of their equipment. She was cleaning her rifle, cleaning a small cavalry crossbow with a magazine for five arrows, and polishing her sword.

  - It's called a stress response, - the black-bearded mage confided to Armando. He made sure he was within earshot of Valria, though. - If she hadn't kept herself busy, she would have been seasick long ago.

  - Is it possible to get seasick on the river? - De Gorazzo, who was not well versed in such things, asked incredulously.

  - She can, - the master assured him. - Valria is incredibly talented.

  The elf's vigilance paid off towards the end of the voyage. Before turning to the west, the Senara swelled wide, and its bend looked more like a lake with calm water and many tiny islands. The "River Nymph" approached this section deep in the night - as Armando later decided, Captain Gianobatto had calculated so on purpose. De Gorazzo was on duty after midnight, and it was he who heard the suspicious sounds. First, someone crept to the cabin door and rattled something metal. Rust squeaked. "A padlock," Armando realised, sitting on the floor at the time, with his naked sword in his lap. He feared to lie down in the hammock, for he was sleepy, and there were no chairs in the room. – “Someone had hung it on the door outside." He recollected that he had seen suitable iron shackles on the sash and jamb. Meanwhile something heavy had begun to be moved across the deck. Probably a crate or a barrel of fresh water.

  - Wake up! - De Gorazzo whispered in Gotech's ear, pushing his friend in the shoulder at the same time. - We're in trouble.

  A minute later, the whole group awoke. Outside the heavy cargo stopped creaking, and something massive pushed against the doorframe. There was silence again, broken only by the splashing of the waves against the sides of the ship.

  - My diagnosis is betrayal, - Valria said softly, tipping her hat and loading her crossbow. Sergeant Dallan beside her was hurriedly loading captain’s rifle. - We'll treat by sudden, unplanned piracy. Carlon, can you bring the door down with the siege amulet?

  - Of course. - The mage reached into his travelling bag.

  - Ahem. I would elaborate. - Gotech coughed into his fist. - Master, can you take the door out with the amulet without punching a hole in the deck and setting the ship on fire?

  The imperial mage froze. Pulled his empty hand out of his bag:

  - Um... I'm not sure.

  - Then I'll do it. Prepare for battle. - The black-skinned giant stood up, approached the door, pressed the sash with his palm, as if assessing its strength. He stepped back a little... and lunged forward with a mighty shoulder. The impact seemed to shake the whole ship. Rotten splinters flew. The flimsy sash flew off its hinges, but hit the heavy object behind it. Gotech was not deterred; the giant clutched at the jamb with his hand, leaned down, and pushed the obstacle away, along with the sash that was crumbling before his eyes. Then he hurriedly collapsed to the ground and crawled backwards. Just in time, the bowstrings rattled, and a pair of long arrows flew where his torso had been a moment before. One struck a jamb, the other the back wall of the cabin. The elfess fired back, yanked the lever behind the magazine, fired again. Armando couldn't see where the girl was aiming, but she didn't miss - as confirmed by two painful shrieks. The squad went on the attack, rushing to get out of the cabin that had almost become a trap. Sergeant Dallan and Lady Maria in their steel cuirasses were the first to leave the room, followed by the unarmoured former bailiffs, than the elf, mage and lizard. They met no resistance on deck - the smugglers were either extremely cowardly or extremely clever. The sailors scrambled overboard as soon as they saw the angry passengers. Armando had no time to blink when he discovered that only two dead archers were left on the ship, each of them having been shot in the eye with an arrow by Valria at the beginning of the fight.

  - Scoundrels and cowards - said Lady Maria calmly, simply stating the fact. The pale girl halted at the masthead with her sword drawn. In the moonlight her smooth skin and straight hair seemed milky white, and her armour shimmered ghostly silver. - They didn't even dare to fight.

  - They may be cowards, but I don't think they're fools, - the elfess said. - Maria, make sure the horses are all right. Dallan, follow me.

  The sergeant and captain climbed the ladder to the high bay. Dallan took the rudder the helmsman had left behind, and Velria looked around. Suddenly, swearing in Old Elvish, she pointed her finger:

  - Look! To port, off the island! Can you see it?

  The waning moon shone brightly enough for de Gorazzoo, who had no elven eyesight, to see where the girl was pointing. From one of the forested islets, two river galleys were heading towards the “Nymph”. The miniature ships with square superstructures on their bows seemed to glide through the calm water to the measured stroke of their oars. One of the galleys was a little behind the other.

  - River pirates, - Gotech grinned. - The most convenient place for them...

  - Valria was right, Gianobatto is no fool. - Armando put his sword back in its scabbard - no need for it yet. - He wasn't going to capture us himself. He must have realised something in Phletsius, sent a messenger to his friends on the coast... And it would be good if it was only to them.

  The silver moon was eclipsed for a moment by a black winged shadow. Valria leaned over the railing of the stern and shouted:

  - Carlon, signal! The rest of you, battle stations. Dallan, take the wheel. The current will carry us to the south shore. We'll ground the ship and disembark. We have horses and the pirates are on foot, we'll lose them.

  The black-bearded mage squeezed between the agitated horses with a dexterity unexpected for his size, ran to the blazing brazier on the bow. He poured into it the contents of one of his many pouches. With a soft hissing sound, the flames flared brighter, turning an incredible violet colour. The black silhouette flashed against the moon again - but the former bailiff would have sworn it was smaller now than last time. And could a dragon fly in the same direction twice? It wouldn't have had time to make a circle.....

  De Gorazzo was prevented from realising this fact by a shot that rumbled over the water. A light flashed on the bow of the lagging galley, something whistled over the stern of the Nymph, and fell into the water with a splash.

  - Excellent. They have a gun - Gotech said. Armando could not tell from his voice that he was particularly upset.

  The pirates' gun was not far from the calibre of a salute cannon, but the rotten “Nymph” was no match for a galleon with oak armour.

  - They're marking the stern, - said the mage, who had returned from the brazier. - They want to smash the rudder, I guess.

  - What are we going to do? - The elven woman asked from the stern. Despite the danger, she didn't move a step away from Dallan, who was holding the wheel. - I've only just taken command of my own ship, and I don't want it to be destroyed at once.

  - I've got a trick I learnt in the army, - the mage began. A third cannonball struck the stern, making a hole in the fence of it. The girls at the helm fell to the ground.

  - Valria! - The mage shrieked, rushing to the stairs. They ran up the stairs with Armando.

  - I'm... fine. - The elfess hastily rose to her knees and stood up, pressing her palm to her head. Picked up her hat. - Dallan?

  - It's all right. - Sergeant was already holding the wheel again.

  - There's blood on your face.

  - It's nothing. A chip scratched it.

  The elfess pulled a white handkerchief out of her waistcoat pocket and pressed it to her friend's cheek. She asked irritably:

  - Where is that demon-damned dragon?!

  - We've only got a couple of minutes, hurry up! Help me. - Ignoring her words, master shoved Armando an object that looked like a huge copper nail with a silver mirror replacing the cap. - Stick it into the edge of the platform at this angle.

  The magician showed him, and hurried to the other end of the deck with a similar object in his hands. De Gorazzo diligently complied with the Imperial's instructions and stepped back, leaving the mirror sticking out of the planking. Master Carlon touched each of the objects in turn, muttered something under his breath, waved his hands, and an almost transparent wall grew over the deck. It looked as if someone had suspended a plate of clear glass from the port side by invisible strings.

  - A force shield, - Valria nodded understandingly. - But it's enough for one hit. Two, if the cannonballs are small and rocky.

  - That’s enough, - the mage smiled enigmatically.

  The magic shield flashed blue, reflecting another projectile. Because the transparent wall was tilted at an angle, the cannonball flew backwards and downwards rather than upwards or sideways, burying itself in the water between the sailing ship and the galleys.

  - Change the tilt of the amulets! - Master Carlon commanded. - Half a finger lower and a little to the left!

  - Demons be damned, you've got a great idea! - Gotech, who was watching the magician's manipulations from the deck, exclaimed. As a former siege engineer, he had appreciated the idea before Armando.

  The fifth shot had to wait longer. The galleys were steadily catching up with the sailing ship - it was clear that it would not be able to get ashore and avoid boarding. But the pirate commander, probably, did not give up the idea to deprive the "Nymph" of the rudder, because in the end the cannon rumbled again. But all this time Carlon and Armando had been adjusting the tilt of the force shield, keeping it at a certain angle to the approaching ships. A blue flash... and a projectile bounced off the shield and flew back-right. Straight into the lead, unarmed galley. Even though he understood the mages's plan, de Gorazzo had little faith in its success - but now he could see the result with his own eyes. The cannonball had struck under the galley's bow. A large hole was formed above the waterline, but the ship still swerved. The rowers were out of rhythm.

  And then, at last, Armando heard the sounds he had been waiting for most in these tense moments - the roar of the dragon, the whistle of air cut by the giant wings. The former bailiff threw back his head. Charcoal was swooping down on the pirate ships, obscuring the stars. The sight was marvellous until Valria, who also looked up, exclaimed:

  - There's a second one!

  It was only then that Armando noticed a dark spot above the Charcoal - another dragon, barely visible from the deck, was following Donna Minerva's dragon. It was lagging behind, but it was no doubt chasing the big black one.

  - Carlon! Do something! - The always feminine and elegant elfess bellowed hoarsely. Tearing the loaded rifle from her shoulder, the pointy-eared girl knelt down and rested her cheek against the shiny, polished butt of the gun, aiming at the dragon. Meanwhile, the mage was doing... apparently doing something. Stumbling, he rolled down the stairs and hurried to the bow, fumbling in his belt pouch.

  In the next few seconds, several events happened almost simultaneously. The Charcoal, which had been falling as a stone, spread its wings and flew horizontally over the water. The dragon swept over the armed galleys with incredible speed, clawed at their only mast. The thick, short mast snapped like a straw, but the momentum still rocked the ship. The galley scooped up water with the port oars, and human figures spilled into the river. The gun in the elven woman's hands slammed down, sending a lead bullet towards the second dragon. At the same instant, the mage who hadn't had time to run to the bow swung round and tossed some sort of pouch into the blazing roaster. He shouted:

  - Close your eyes!

  Don de Gorazzo barely had time to follow his advice before the pouch fell into the flames. He covered his face with his palms just in case, but the white flash still stabbed his eyes through his eyelids. Armando pulled his hands, fearing he had missed something important - and rightly so. Despite the specks of light dancing in his eyes, the former bailiff saw a dark mass the size of a good peasant's house fall from the sky into the river. No one had alerted the second dragon and its rider to the flash. Blinded and stunned, they delayed for a moment in coming out of the dive - and paid for it. The surge was titanic. The unknown lizard struck the side of the armed galley, which had levelled itself, and broke off a whole piece of its side, at the same time breaking all the oars on one side with its carcass. Almost immediately he surfaced, floundering like a drowning dog, striking the long-suffering ship with his unnaturally curved wing. The Charcoal, which at the moment of the flash was gaining altitude with its back to the "River Nymph", was not confused. He laid on the wing, made a semicircle and attacked the second pirate ship. The giant lizard simply landed on its bow, clung to the superstructure with its clawed front paws and widen the core hole. The crew made no attempt to stop it; instead, the sailors fled in panic, jumping overboard or rushing to the stern. Armando, blinking, saw in the pearly moonlight a slender white figure run along the ridge of the Charcoal and, arms outstretched, dive into the water.

  - Now at least we know what Donna Minerva was doing while we were fighting here, - said Captain Valria behind de Gorazzo’s back, in a slightly hoarse but familiar calmly mocking voice. - Don Armando, Dallan, look after my weapons.

  - Weapons? - Armando turned round and found that the elf had already thrown off her gloves, waistcoat and blouse, and was now pulling off her high boots. - Captain?

  - I don't know why Donna went in the water, but I think she's looking for something. Or someone. - The girl got rid of her trousers and undershirt, set her right leg back. - Given the number of foreign bodies floating around, she could use some help. Keep heading for the shore. We'll be back on our own.

  - Yes, - Sergeant Dallan nodded gravely. Three steps were all it took for Valria to get up and then she pushed herself off the deck and jumped overboard, the railing that had been knocked down by the fire not blocking her path.

  - A very... busy night we've had, - the former royal bailiff sighed as he gave her a look.

  - Yes, don. Very much so, - he sergeant agreed phlegmatically.

  The armed galley was sinking fast, the surviving starboard oars scraping against the stars. Her dragon-torn counterpart was sinking more slowly from the bow, but there was no doubt that the ship was doomed. Charcoal himself, having left the galley, was circling the battlefield and uttering war cries. On the bow of the “River Nymph”, a small fire was burning from a fryer overturned by the explosion. The tongues of flame, which Lady Maria and Corporal Green were trying to beat down with their cloaks, were of a poisonous purple colour.

  Armando rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, so hard that it hurt. He wanted to sleep so badly...