Бирюшев Руслан Рустамович : другие произведения.

Novel 1. Mercenary Company "Bright Heads". Full novel

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  • Аннотация:
    The Daertian Empire collapsed centuries ago, but there is no peace in the ancient lands. Fragments of the vanished state continue to fight for power. There is always work for mercenaries in the borderlands, but the "Bright Heads" Mercenary Company is an unusual unit. It has only three members, and the tasks it performs are specific. Track down the monster, catch the criminal, protect an important person from an assassination attempt. One day fate brings the company face to face with a dangerous enemy - an alien from a world without magic, turned assassin. He is armed with incredible skills and technological marvels, and in his presence magic is useless. And most importantly - behind his back there are serious shadow forces...


   Novel 1. Mercenary Company "Bright Heads".
   Prologue. The man who killed the past
   When someone needed to describe Odisyotl, the word "gray" was quite enough. Not in the sense that the city was unremarkable - it is the largest port of the northern archipelago, after all - but in the most literal sense. Under an eternally gray sky full of clouds, buildings of gray stone rose, roads covered with gray asphalt stretched, gray waves of the bay beat against gray concrete piers. When it started to rain, slanting gray streams whipping from the clouds were added to all this. The only exception was, oddly enough, cars. Perhaps it was an unconscious protest - but the people of Odisjotle were very fond of brightly colored cars. Ruby red, light green, ultramarine cars filled the main highways during rush hours, which made them look like colorful ribbons, traditionally used to wrap holiday gifts. The black police car looked out of place among them, like a piece of coal thrown into a pile of gems.
   Sigi Hoffmainen, as Chief Inspector, was at the wheel. Leafing through the papers given to him just before his departure, he entrusted his young partner.
   - Have you read everything? - Sigi asked without taking his eyes off the road. Despite the working siren, not all drivers hurried to give way, so the inspector had to be on the alert. He did not want to throw work to his colleagues from the highway patrol.
   - Yeah, - growled partner, Leif Bjarnison. The guy got his inspector's badge quite recently, and so far he took his job very seriously. Now he shuffled the sheets he had already read in order to take them up again.
   - So, we have an elf-foreigner's corpse on our liner and in our port. Any other details?
   - Not much, - Leif sighed. - The deceased is someone called Hoelmar Victor Aurelison, a storyteller by profession. Do you know anything about it?
   - I've never heard of it, - Hoffmainen shook his chin. - But judging by the fact that the corpse in the first-class cabin is rather profitable job. What's more?
   - Patrol arrived first, examined the crime scene. They said on the phone that it looked like a suicide.
   - Yes, the opinion of the guys in caps is very valuable to us, - the chief inspector snorted, changing lanes to the left. Turning off the siren, he turned to the port.
   The ocean liner "Crown of Ice" towered over the dock like a black-and-white rock. Such can be seen in the fjords - when the snow covers the entire upper half of the rock, but cannot stay on the smooth stones closer to the water. The bow of the ship was decorated with a "slingshot" of flagpoles - on one the native banner of the kingdom was languidly flying, on the other, the striped flag of the People's Democratic Republic was also reluctantly, as if lazily splashing. The liner ran between Odisjotl and Elvart on a weekly basis, and taking to consideration the strained relationship between the two countries, such a gesture of courtesy was practically necessary. Right on the pier was a black patrol car, decorated with a scarlet flasher and a white "Police" lettering along the side. Ludrian workers were dragging some boxes past it. There were many of these small, thin lizard people in the city, but it was almost impossible to see them outside the port. That's why Leif stared at them with interest, but his older comrade with dislike. Two decades ago, Inspector Hoffmainen managed to take part in the Second East Ludrian War as a light infantry sergeant, so for him the sight of upright bipedal lizards has awoken not the most pleasant memories of humid forests filled with traps and hostile natives.
   - Sir. - The patrolman, who was on duty at the passenger ladder, threw up his hand to the visor. Sigi simply nodded to him, and the policeman, without further ado, led the inspectors to the correct deck. In front of the cabin door where the murder (or suicide) took place, another uniformed officer was on guard. For some reason, a ship's steward hovered next to him - very sad and dejected.
   - Is he a witness or else? - Siggi nodded at the steward.
   - Yes, sir, - the patrolman replied. - Found the body.
   - Any other of them?
   - No, sir. We interviewed neighbors from other cabins - no one heard or saw anything.
   - This is not enough. Fine, let's see.
   The dead man lay face down in the middle of the living room. Leif, of course, had seen elves before. In photographs and drawings. And it cannot be said that now he had a chance to see a living elf for the first time - since Mr. Aurelison was, without a doubt, dead. The Chief Inspector didn't put on gloves, he just squatted down beside the body and examined it. An ancient dagger stuck in the elf's chest. The dead man's right hand was still clutching the handle resting on the floor.
   - Yes...- drawled Hoffmainen, straightening up. - He could well have thrown himself at the knife. But with the same success he could be stabbed and laid in this position. Leif, what else do you see interesting here?
   There were enough interesting things. Directly in front of the deceased a gilded frame on a stand stood - and it was empty. Some kind of fringe ran along its inner edge - probably, a canvas was cut out of the frame. Nearby on the floor was a silver ice bucket, which contained soot. With the same soot on the white wall of the cabin, someone brought out a few incomprehensible words.
   - Is that... elvish? - Leif suggested timidly.
   - Yes, it is, - his senior partner confirmed.
   - Do you read Elvish?
   - Of course not, - Sigi snorted. - Who learns Elvish these days, apart from elves themselves? Any elf knows several human languages.
   - Experts will arrive soon, but they are just coroners... - the young inspector said slowly. Rubbing his chin, he examined the mysterious black letters. - At the city university, someone should know the language. At the Department of Linguistics or History. We should give them a call...
   - It's worth calling, but not to the university. - Hoffmainen suddenly grinned wryly. - Let's go to the office...
   When he got to the phone, the chief inspector dialed a number that, judging by the length, was an ordinary city number, not from the emergency services. He listened to beeps for a long time, then said into the phone:
   - Hey, are you sober now? Are you? Well, tell me, what was the name of the god of rain and wind among the Ludrians? Well? No, not like this. On the letter "K". Eight syllables. Yes, right. Now I believe you. Yes, I'm exactly piece of that. I need help. There is nothing wrong, just a piece of advice. No, not by phone. Will you come? In the port, the "Crown of Ice" liner. Meet me at the ramp. Yes, investigation. Yes, they will pay. Police Department. Okay, I'll pay. Yes, my salary is enough. Good, I'm waiting.
   Hanging up the phone, he explained to his partner:
   - An old friend of mine. We came across after the army. While we wait, let's check if there is a person among the passengers who could know Elvish.
   They didn't have to wait long. Three quarters of an hour later, a dark blue sports car stopped at the barrier blocking the entrance to the port, once expensive and fashionable, but now turned into a well-groomed, but obviously worn-out wreck. Such machines with chopped hull contours were popular about thirty years ago. The watchman left the guardhouse, looked in the window from the driver's side, listened to something. Shaking his head, he raised the striped beam. The car drove inside, braked near the pier. The door clicked open. And Leif caught his breath for a moment. An elf got out of the car. Elf woman. The most real and, unlike Mr. Aurelison, alive. Inspector Bjarnison had heard before that elven women were almost always unbelievably beautiful, but he thought it was a tale. Like the fact that all northerners have beards. However, Sigi's friend fully confirmed this tale. By human standards, for Leif she was somewhere in mid thirties or so. The elf was dressed in a white blouse with a red tie, a blue formal suit with a tight skirt above the knee, tight black stockings and dark red shoes with a small but noticeable heel. She carried a small purse over her shoulder, thin-rimmed oval glasses on her nose, and black leather gloves on her hands. The lapel of the jacket was decorated with a gold brooch in the shape of a vine. The woman's wavy blond hair fell freely on her back, only at the temples the strands were gathered into thin braids that covered her head like a wreath, connecting into one at the back of her head.
   - Good afternoon, gentlemen, - she said in a high, melodious voice as she approached the policemen.
   - And you too. - Sigi smiled. In a month of joint service, Leif had not yet seen his senior comrade smile like that - sincerely and openly. - Meet this partner of mine, Leif Bjarnison.
   - Detective Valria Anna Valthritdotir. - The woman smiled too - an incredibly charming soft smile - and held out her hand to the inspector. - The official consultant of the city police. Nice to meet you.
   Leif returned the handshake and... shuddered, meeting the detective's eyes. For a second it seemed to him that the elf had completely white eyes. Like covered with cataractas, even without pupils. But almost immediately he noticed that the pupils were still in place, and they were surrounded by faded violet halos - as if the iris had faded in the sun.
   - What a cute boy. - Still smiling, Valria turned to the Chief Inspector. - That's rare in the police. You spoil them quickly. For half a year they lose their sparkle in their eyes, start smoking and drinking no worse than me.
   - Fru Walthritdotir, I'm not a...
   - I don't care how old you are, boy, - the elf interrupted Leif, waving her hand. - I'm older anyway. Don't be offended. Better show me what's happened here.
   On the way to the cabin, Sigi quickly told the elf everything that he knew, and that the police could find out on the spot. The deceased was seen at breakfast. He left there alone. He communicated with several people, one of whom could know Elvish - he turned out to be a professor of Elvart University, Hans Ebenrare, a historian.
   - First suspect, - Sigi immediately pointed out.
   - Is anything valuable missing from the cabin? - the woman asked.
   - We don't know. There is still no inventory.
   In the first-class cabin, the detective took only a brief glance at the body of her fellow elf, then immediately strode to the wall with the inscription, clattering her sharp heels. She folded her arms across her chest and stared at the crooked and lopsided black letters for a long time. Finally, she said softly, without turning around:
   - Where is this professor?
   - Twenty-fifth cabin, two doors from here, - said Sigi. None of the passengers were allowed ashore.
   The long pointed ears of the elf, peeking out from the lush golden mane of hair, lowered, pressed to the head. Without saying anything else, the detective quickly walked out into the corridor. The police rushed after her. Reaching the door with the copper number "25", the woman knocked on it with bent fingers.
   - Who is there? Police? - asked a wary voice from behind the sash.
   Valria took a step back, resting her shoulder blades against the wall of the corridor. Taking a deep breath, she rushed forward and slammed her shoulder into the door. The thin sash gave way - with a crunch the tongue of the lock flew out of the groove, the door swung open inward, hitting the person standing behind it. The detective stormed into the hallway, where an elderly, overweight man was writhing on the floor, groaning and holding his face.
   - Gotcha, you bastard! - the woman pressed her knee into the stomach of the lying man, grabbed his shoulders with her hands. At the same time, the detective's narrow skirt was indecently pulled up. - Where did you hide it?
   - I do not understand what are you talking about! - murmured the owner of the cabin. - How dare you... Oh!
   Valria leaned over sharply and bit the man's ear. She growled hoarsely:
   - You killed an elf, you piece of shit. But what's worse, you killed the storyteller, a part of our past. I want to rip your throat out, you round-eared mayfly shit, and I still haven't done it just because of these two officers waiting in the hallway. But if you carry on being silent, they will close the door and leave for a smoke. Do you understand, mayfly?
   - In... in... in the bedroom... hid among his papers! the scientist stammered. - A big black tube...
   - That's much better, - the elf said calming down with amazing speed, in a completely even voice. She stood up, dusted off her knees, pulled up her gloves. Nodded to the cops:
   - Continue on your own.
   Soon Professor Ebenrare came down the gangplank in handcuffs, escorted by a couple of patrolmen. The inspector and the elf watched this from the upper deck.
   - You really... don't like humans that much, do you? - Leif glanced sideways at the woman. She pulled out a metal cigarette case from the inner pocket of her jacket, took out a simple cigarette from there, lit a lighter from the lighter brought by Sigi. She suddenly laughed.
   - Of course not, Inspector. I like humans. Seriously, I spent my whole life among you, you are closer to me than my elf relatives.
   - And then what...
   - Just quoted a few of our racists from a thousand years ago. About round ears and "mayfly" - they came up with this.
   - So you played. - The young policeman let out a sigh of relief.
   - A little. Still, this bastard thought that some picture is worth more than the life of its owner. He deserved a thrashing. And he really killed the storyteller.
   - Are storytellers important to elves?
   - Yes. They are... something between chroniclers, skalds and antiquarians, who keep the past of our people. And we have nothing but the past left.
   - How did you understand that it was time to take the pirate by the beard? - Sigi hid the lighter. - What was the inscription on there?
   - An attempt to portray a suicide note. - The detective leaned against the bulwark and shrugged. - Like, tired of life, he decided to burn the last find and commit suicide. In general, it sounds stupid, but ... it was also written ...
   - With mistakes? - Leif suggested.
   - Perfectly correct. - Valria shook her head, exhaling a puff of tobacco smoke. - Only using expressions from two different dialects. The principalities of the elves are closed little worlds, where the language has changed a little bit for the centuries of isolation. In the inscription on the wall, "fire" was written in one dialect and "death" in another. A native speaker would never write like that. Linguist too. But someone who knows the ancient language superficially... for example, a historian...
   The patrol car with the arrested man had already left a long time ago, but they were still standing near the gangway, looking at the port, listening to the whistles of steamers and the cries of seagulls.
   - Why are your eyes white? - Leif suddenly asked, realizing that a couple more minutes, and he would not be able to muster up the courage for this question.
   - Because I'm very old. - The detective looked at the inspector with a good-natured grin. - Have you ever heard how elves grow old, young man? I will not become gray and wrinkled with age, but my eyes are fading little by little. Grey, if you like. When they completely fade, I will fall asleep and not wake up. This is elven old age...
   - What is your...
   - You're talking to a woman, young man. - The elf narrowed her eyes slightly, but a soft smile still played on her lips. - A lot of. In that picture that the professor stole - do you remember what was depicted?
   - Yes. - Leif shuddered, remembering the black and red stains on the canvas.
   - I saw it myself. Do you want to listen to the tales of the old elf? About the last knight-queen of the continent and about the first queen-sorceress? About the fire in the sky and the death of dragons?
   - Of course I want, Fru Veltritdotir!
   - Well then, hand over the report - and take me to the Ludrian restaurant. - The elf flicked her cigarette overboard. - At your expense, of course, Inspector. Otherwise, I won't expect such a thing from your senior colleague... A drink and a portion of fried pork in sweet and sour sauce is on you, and a whole evening of entertaining stories is on me...
  
  
   Part 1. No-man's land.
   Chapter 1
   Master Carlon woke up from the fact that someone persistently poked a finger into his left cheek. For a full minute, the retired warmage tried to ignore the jabs, wincing in his sleep and twitching his nose. Until he emerged from a slumber enough to remember that he had fallen asleep alone, in a room locked from the inside... Startled, the master opened his eyes and saw in front of him a young woman's face of amazing beauty - fair skin, high cheekbones, a neat nose, large violet-colored eyes, all this framed by lush golden hair, scattered over her shoulders. Long and pointed elven ears peeked out from under her hair. The spectacle would be simply amazing if Carlon did not know who was in front of him.
   - You! - The magician jerked to the side and predictably slammed his shoulder into the wall. - Oh, damn...
   - Good morning, Carlon, - the girl said cheerfully to him and moved away from the bed. She sat down on the only chair in the room, crossed her legs. The magician got out of the blanket and sat up too. Pulling up his underpants, he stared gloomily at the uninvited guest, muttered:
   - Valria. How did you get here? I locked myself up for the night.
   Just in case, he glanced at the window, covered with cheap, cloudy glass. The window was closed.
   - I got a spare key from the innkeeper. - The golden-haired elf shrugged her shoulders with a charming smile. - Next time, rent a room with a bolt.
   - I'll learn this. - The master paused, looking expectantly at his interlocutor. She, still smiling, began to straighten her cuffs. The guest was dressed simply and elegantly - a white blouse with a turn-down collar, gray trousers, a green vest with gilded buttons and small shoulder pads made of fine embossed leather, high boots covering the knees in front. The costume perfectly suited the tall and slender elfess, only it was already noticeably worn, especially the boots and vest.
   - Well? - finally, Carlon could not stand it. - What happened this time? You're out of enchanted arrows again, and the shop refuses to trade with you, right? Or has the amulet on the hat run out? Something so important that you stumbled into the living room in dirty boots?
   - My boots are cleaner than you. - The girl snorted. - A round-eared barbarian who takes a bath once a month has no right to talk to me about cleanliness.
   - The round-eared barbarian studied for ten years as a military magician, and during these ten years of study he read more books than you did in your hundred years of life ... - Carlon, against his will, began to get inflamed - as always when talking with Valria. He did not care that the interlocutor was decades older than him - she looked like a twenty-year-old girl and behaved according to her appearance.
   - Yeah, that's enough! - The elf unexpectedly forced a smile off her face and threw up her hands in conciliation. - Sorry, I don't have much time, so I'll get down to business. I want to hire you for one task. Need magical support and advice. Silver payment.
   - I refuse. - Carlon finally remembered that he was sitting on the bed almost naked, and bent over his shirt.
   - You don't need money? - Valria arched a golden eyebrow.
   - No. I just got back to the city yesterday. - The magician put his hands into the sleeves, fussed with bone buttons. - I spent a week shaking on a cart at the tail of a merchant caravan, collecting all the dust on myself. We walked through the Dead Line, twice we had to drive away some kind of rubbish. I want to eat, sleep and have fun.
   The elf got up, stepped towards the table, fished Carlon's skinny purse out of the traveling bag lying on it, and opened it.
   - Hey! - the magician was indignant. - Hands off!
   - Not much. - The girl poured three silver coins and a handful of copper coins into her palm. - If you do not throw out the item "have fun" from your plans, then it will last for a week, at most.
   Carlon did not admit that he had a couple more coins hidden in secluded places - Valria herself knew that he is not a fool. Instead, the master asked:
   - What can you offer?
   - The task is for three days, no longer. - The girl poured the coins back into the magician's purse, turned to him. - Payment has not yet been settled, but my forecasts are half a gold crown per person, plus military booty is possible.
   - Oh ... - The magician rubbed the back of his head. - Okay. When and where is the meeting with the employer?
   - He's already downstairs, Dallan entertaining him.
   - Crap! - Carlon let out a few savory curses, not at all embarrassed by the presence of a girl. Hastily putting on his shoes, he splashed cold water in his face from a basin in the corner of the room, in the absence of a mirror he simply felt his beard and mustache - they did not seem to have grown much since the last haircut.
   - Well, you are growing a belly, a learned person, - the elf who was watching him from the threshold noticed.
   - Go to the demons, - Carlon snapped.
   - Come on, I know that for magicians, a beard and belly are mandatory attributes of the profession.
   To restrain himself, the master began to rinse his mouth with water and a refreshing powder. In the meantime, the girl pulled out gloves from behind her belt and pulled them on - unlike the rest of her wardrobe, they were brand new, made of thick brown leather, with hard gaiters almost to the elbow. Carlon has long noticed that the elf rarely takes off her gloves, and even eats in them in front of strangers. Probably, the girl did not want people to see the rough calluses from weapons exercises on her long and thin fingers.
   - Have you gone already? - she asked when the mage had finished dressing.
   - Yes.
   Together they descended the narrow stairs to the dining room of the inn. Carlon glared at the traitorous innkeeper, who hastened to turn away. Valria, however, gave the owner of the inn a smile, led the magician across the hall to a private office. Here, in a not-so-high class establishment, it was just a cramped room with a table and a couple of benches. In the office they were really already waiting. On one bench sat a tall, but thin as a stick, old man with a gray goatee, on the opposite - a girl in a man's black suit, who could be mistaken for Valria's older sister. Also slender, golden-haired and fair-skinned - but a head shorter, noticeably wider in the shoulders, more lean than graceful. And most importantly - not an elf. The hair gathered in a ponytail left open ears - ordinary, human. The girl sat with her arms folded across her chest, her face and dark green eyes expressed serene calmness. She answered Carlon's greeting with a nod.
   - Good morning, Mr. Sandr. - The elf sat down opposite the old man, so that Carlon had to sit down on the bench next to him. - You already know me, but I'll introduce myself again. I am the captain of the "Bright Heads" mercenary company Valria, daughter of Valtryt. This, - she pointed to the green-eyed girl, - is my second-in-command, Company Sergeant Dallan an Balran.
   The old man raised his eyebrows. "And he knows the Old Elven language," the mage immediately understood. "Dallan an Balran" from the literary elvish language was translated as "The ninth of eight." Of course, it could not be a name, especially a human one.
   - And, finally, our third partner, a military magician of the third stage, master Karlon. - The elf threw up her hands. - He is from the middle class, therefore without a surname.
   - Specialization - support on the first line, - added Carlon, already habitually suppressing an outburst of irritation. - But over the years of post-war practice, I have mastered a lot outside of my specialty.
   - Very nice. - The old man replied without a smile.
   - Well, since we all know each other now, let's talk about business issues. - Valria leaned over the table and unscrewed the bronze candlestick hanging on the wall in two movements. Taking a bottle stopper from her pocket, she plugged the auditory hole hidden behind the candlestick. Mr. Sandr nodded approvingly, put a tiny hourglass on the table. The clock exuded magical energy. Carlon immediately recognized them as a simple amulet against eavesdropping and peeping. However, simple does not mean cheap.
   - We are talking about big money, - the old man began right off the bat, looking only at Valria. - This is one of the reasons why I turned to you. I need honest and reliable people, and your reputation in this regard is impeccable. And the small number of your "company" is only for the better. The detachment is in this room at full strength, isn't it?
   - Even in the expanded one, - the elf girl nodded. - Master Carlon on a one-time contract.
   - So much the better, - repeated Mr. Sandr.
   - I want to remind. - Valria leaned forward with a serious look. - My company's impeccable reputation is largely based on the fact that we don't take on the dirty work. All within the laws of the Duchy and the Empire. I also reserve the right to refund the advance and terminate the task at any time.
   - I know, - the old man assured, lowering his chin a little. - I was making inquiries about you, and we already talked yesterday... Nothing illegal or morally dubious. So, if really...
   There was a knock on the door, and Sandr interrupted himself in mid-sentence. The servant who came in put a dish of baked mutton ribs on the table, and a jug of wine sat next to it. Valria immediately grabbed one rib from the dish, dug her teeth into the flesh, tore off a piece, chewed it. By some miracle, she managed not to stain her gloves or even her lips.
   - All my life I thought that elves do not eat meat, - Mr. Sandr remarked, not without curiosity.
   - Only those who worship the old forest gods, - Valria explained without looking up at him. "Again, she didn't really eat for a couple of days," Carlon realized. "She spent the last of her money on new gloves. Here is the windy head ... ". - Even among them, only the most pious. I am anointed by birth in the temple of the One Creator, so no problem.
   She took another bite and with her mouth full asked:
   - You go on, I'm listening.
   - So, I represent one of the major merchants of our duchy, - the old man began. - Who exactly is not important. Not so long ago, an interesting paper fell into the hands of my owner. Do you know that ten years ago, during the war, the line of contact between the troops of the Empire and the Western Coalition passed along the western border of our duchy?
   - Of course. Now there is the beginning of the neutral zone.
   - And it was there that the imperial troops broke through the defenses of the Coalition, wedged into the lands of the Iderling kingdom. Why did this happen? - The old man took a jug and poured himself some wine - a little, literally for a couple of sips. - Because the kingdom owes the troops a year's salary. The Iderling generals promised that the money would soon arrive from the capital and that the soldiers would finally be paid. But the money didn't show up. Riots began, desertion began - and the Empire took advantage of this. However, the money did exist. They just didn't get into the troops.
   - And not because they were plundered by royal officials, am I right? - The elf took another rib, but did not eat. Now the girl did not hide her interest. Her silent friend, without further questions, shifted the rest of the meat onto two plates, served them to the magician and the guest, leaving nothing for herself. Carlon shook his head and handed the plate back to the green-eyed girl. She lowered her eyelids for a moment, expressing her gratitude.
   - You're right, captain. - Mr. Sandr was not interested in food either. - My master has obtained a secret report from the royal office that the salaries for an entire army were secretly delivered to the front line, in one of the strongholds of the kingdom, in the midst of battles. From the fort the money was to be sent to different regiments. But this did not happen. The fort was suddenly attacked by imperial troops, and a battle ensued in which both sides used now-forbidden forms of magic. The fort was destroyed, however, and the attackers were killed almost all. The retreating Imperials did not take any trophies. The area around the fort became very dangerous for humans. Now this place is the very heart of the no man's land. We have every reason to believe that the gold is still there. Somewhere in the cellars of the fortress.
   - And the gold belongs to the kingdom. - The elf moved her ears, removed the golden bangs that fell on her forehead. - So, from the point of view of imperial laws, it belongs to no one.
   - The treasure belongs to the finder, minus the tax to the treasury. - For the first time in the entire conversation, the old man grinned--a very unpleasant grin. It contrasted markedly with the charming smile that never left Valria's lips. - According to my master, the information about the lost salary was hidden by the royal authorities. Iderlings cannot send troops into no man's land to get money. And individual adventurers did not meddle in the fort - the reputation of the place is very bad.
   - But do you think we'll go there? - the girl put the baked rib aside, intertwined her fingers in front of her face.
   - Why not? - The old man threw up his hands. - In ten years outdoors, any dangerous magic will wear off. The living creatures there are probably unpleasant, but no one is forcing you to fight with it. I don't expect the three of you to haul a cartload of gold from a dangerous area. Your task is reconnaissance. Find out what condition the fort is in, whether there is gold, where exactly it is stored, whether access to it is free. Are there any other valuables worth grabbing. After your report, I will assemble a larger expedition and send it out for prize. You will receive one percent of any profit from this case. Well, I will not count every coin in the chests, of course. I hope you have roomy pockets ...
   - Prepaid expense? - the elf asked shortly. The tips of her sharp ears began to move again - they trembled lightly.
   - Three gold crowns ahead. - Mr. Sandr laid out the coins on the table without unnecessary ceremony. The girl immediately moved them to her, handed one to her partner, the other to the magician. Said:
   - Well, perhaps we agree. - She glanced at her partners one by one. - Do we agree?
   The sergeant nodded silently. During the conversation, she managed to gnaw on the ribs and now looked even more serene and indifferent than usual. Carlon stroked his beard:
   - In principle, I agree... But I would like to know in advance what kind of magical threats may be encountered in the area of the fort.
   - After signing the contract, I will provide you with all the information that my master could get, - Mr. Sandr promised.
   - Perfect! - the elf exclaimed with sudden enthusiasm, clapping her hands. - Get paper and pen. And Mr. Sandr...
   - Yes captain?
   - You still don't eat, I'll take your ribs?...
  
   Chapter 2
   The rest of the day and the whole evening the company spent on replenishing supplies. Valria exchanged one of the gold coins in the ducal bank and divided the silver into three parts. The purchase of provisions was undertaken by the elf herself - here she could be completely trusted. The sergeant went to the street of gunsmiths, but Carlon had to pretty much wander around the city, since the shops he needed were located in different quarters. The consumables associated with the craft of a magician were always the most expensive, and in order not to be left with an empty wallet, he had to be resourceful. In other circumstances, the master would save money - he could brew some useful elixirs himself, for example, from cheaper raw materials. However, there was no time for that now. The captain, fired up with enthusiasm, was about to set out in the morning. Seeing the radiant face of this pointy-eared adventurer, the magician was filled with foreboding. Again - as always, when he had to work with her. On the one hand, these forebodings were invariably justified. On the other hand, he is still alive, and so is the elf. Maybe it's not so bad...
   Before going to bed, putting on glasses in a thick tin frame, Carlon read the papers handed over by the customer, dedicated to the purpose of their journey. Nothing particularly interesting was found in them. The pre-war stone fort was once a border fortress, then became a stronghold for the royal armies. A standard set of protective charms and amulets for its time. During the siege, the Imperials used a wide range of combat spells. But what it all turned into now, years later, even a magician more inquisitive than Carlon would not have undertaken to predict. Recordings were interrupted by an unsuccessful assault. After, obviously, no one followed the ruins of the fortress. Expeditions to those places, if any, did not leave any reports. Or the customer simply did not get to them.
   After reading everything twice, the master blew out the candles, hid the glasses in a leather case and lay in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling beam. The thought was circling in his head that it was not too late to refuse. In the end, he is exhausted from the last contract, and he still has money. But ... with great reluctance, Carlon admitted to himself that he himself was interested in how everything would turn out. But what the magician did not admit was that he did not want to let the restless elf go on a dangerous task without supervision. Carlon drove this thought into the farthest corner of the subconscious and rammed there with his feet until he fell asleep.
   The company failed to meet in the morning at the agreed place. With the first rays of the sun, an imperial dragon barge entered the city port, and the quarters adjacent to the embankment were tightly blocked. Firstly, there was no need to give the Coalition spies an extra opportunity to see the pride of the imperial fleet, and secondly, so that the dragons nesting on the barge would not devour someone. There have already been precedents. For a time, even local loaders were kicked out of the docks, and they stifled their drink in the halls of taverns, the fire of the Imperials, for a little while. Carlon rode for an hour on horseback through the free streets until he noticed a familiar golden-haired head flashing at the crossroads.
   - While they were waiting for you, we managed to have breakfast for the second time, - Valria informed the magician who caught up with them. - All goes to good.
   Both mercenaries led by horses - Dallan had a tall gray stallion, the elf, of course, had a snow-white thin-legged mare with a long mane. Getting ready to go, Valria added to her costume a light blue cloak and a brown hat with a dashingly folded brim on the right. The hat was decorated with a magnificent white feather and a round copper medallion on a ribbon. The same locket that Carlon had mentioned the previous morning. An insanely expensive and stunningly useless magical toy with the sole function of keeping the hat owner's hair clean in all conditions and never tangled. The former war mage knew exactly how much such a medallion cost, and how much it cost to recharge it every month - for him this served as more proof of Valria's empty head.
   Unlike her partner, the sergeant completely changed her outfit. The green-eyed girl was dressed in a rather tight-fitting dark blue suit of a jacket with a stiff stand-up collar and trousers girded with a narrow belt. A light silver cuirass with a blue notch pattern covered only the chest and upper back, there were no shoulder pads and a lower plate protecting the stomach - although they could be attached to it. On the hands of the girl were long, to the elbow, leather gloves, reinforced with thin metal plates on the back of the hand and gaiters, which made them look like gauntlets, on her feet were high boots, also reinforced with metal in front. Moreover, silvery plates, looking like hoplite greaves, rose above the tops, covering the knees. Complementing the outfit is the same as the captain's light blue cloak, fastened to the cuirass with gilded clasps.
   - All is ready? the mage asked, exchanging nods with the sergeant.
   - Of course. - The elf unhooked a square bag from the saddle, handed it to the dismounted Carlon. - Your share of gourmet delicacies. I personally tried crackers - they don't serve them on the duke's table, I assure you.
   - I have no doubts, - the master chuckled. - And this is for you.
   He handed the elf three enchanted crossbow bolts, all bronze-tipped, of course. Iron and its derivatives, such as steel, do not tolerate any magic near them. Two arrows sported bright scarlet plumage, one blue.
   - Fire and ice, - the girl nodded with a satisfied look, hiding the arrows in a case on her belt. - There was no wind?
   - No, but I ordered for the future. I know how much you love them. They promised to deliver in a week. Now in the duchy they only conjure on fire, everything else is imported from the Empire. The demand is small.
   They went on foot to the outpost in the suburbs, already on the merchant road they climbed into the saddles. Soon they had to turn off the well-worn road, and for several hours the small company made its way through the copses, moving away from the sea. The elf tried to entertain her companions with chatter about all sorts of nonsense, and she succeeded so much in this that Carlon began to have a headache at the mere sound of her voice. Unable to stand it, the magician tried to interrupt his companion:
   - Listen, did you manage to make inquiries about our customer? At least some? You also have connections in the merchant guild and in the town hall.
   - I tried, but to no avail, - Valria shrugged her shoulders. - In one evening, at least, I did not learn anything.
   - So maybe it was worth the delay?
   - Why? - the girl with a surprised look put two fingers to the tip of her nose and moved her sharp ears. Do you think we are being deceived?
   Carlon took a deep breath. The elf smiled back.
   - Do not worry. Even if there is no gold in the fort, or if it is a trap, the adventure will turn out great. And that's the most important thing, right?
   - You do understand, - the magician said slowly, looking at the mane of his horse, - that this is precisely the reason why you have only two people in your company? And no one, except Dallan and me, agrees to go under your command even for gold?
   - I don't need more, - the girl assured. - It's not my fault that the emperor's military cabinet does not issue patents for free detachments smaller than a company. I don't want to join someone else's group. But they turn to me with such orders, with which they don't go to ordinary mercenaries. And this, you see, is great.
   Carlon was about to vigorously disagree, but changed his mind at the last moment. However, after these words, Valria took out a huge biscuit from her bag and began to gnaw it, gracefully pouring crumbs into the palm of her hand - which means that blissful silence reigned temporarily. The trio arrived at the border of the Duchy of Elvart just before sunset. Determining where the no man's land begins was not difficult even without border posts. Behind the wanderers, another forest was green, lush grass was rippling in the wind - and in front of them the ground was bare. Here and there, the blackened trunks of dead trees stuck out, which for the past ten years had not been touched by rot. In obedience to an old military habit, Carlon ran his fingers along the sling of equipment. Attached to the straps that crisscrossed his chest were pockets of amulets and flat leather flasks of potions. The magician remembered how during the war years some young dandies wore glass bottles like that. It was fun for them to fall prone under enemy fire. Especially on the hard rocky ground, baked from the blows of fiery magic. In addition, a wide infantry cleaver hung on the belt of the master, which did not need to be checked.
   The magician's companions also rattled their weapons without further ado. Sergeant Dallan, in addition to her long sword, took with her a hunting spear, now strapped to the saddle. This spear with a thick shaft and a crossbar behind the point was created for hunting big game, but in the Deadlands it will always find use too. Attached to Valria's saddle was an elven infantry crossbow. It differed from the imperial army crossbow, which fell out of use with the advent of gunpowder, by a complex mechanism for instantly pulling the bowstring. Another crossbow, a small cavalry one, with a flat magazine for five arrows, the girl constantly kept on her knees. On her left hip she dangled a bag-quiver with ordinary arrows, on her right - with enchanted ones. Behind the back, under the cloak, a case for two five-shot magazines was attached to the belt. Finally, at the pommel of the saddle was fixed a light long sword, fashionable among the nobles of the Empire, more suitable for thrusting than for any other fencing techniques.
   - Shouldn't we be up for the night right now? - Carlon asked. - It's getting dark.
   - No, I planned the route on purpose, - the elf shook her chin. - We'll drive for a couple more hours, set up camp at sunset. Close to the border Deadlands are not too dangerous. But if we move out in the morning, we will get to the fort before dark. This is more important.
   The magician did not argue, and gave the horse a leg. The neutral zone met the wanderers with deceptive calmness. They plunged unhindered into the scorched lands, easily found a convenient hollow in which they set up camp when the sun's disk touched the horizon. Dry tree trunks rose around, but the travelers made a fire from the firewood they brought with them - it was not worth touching the trees in the Deadlands without extreme need. The bonfire was a worthwhile risk--the fire might draw unwanted attention to the camp, but it also served as a defense against far more potential dangers. While Carlon was cooking porridge in a camping pot, the elf dozed off, putting a rolled up blanket under her head and covering her face with a hat. Her friend devoted her free time to sword exercises. Without taking off her armor, the sergeant entered into a duel with several invisible opponents at once - and the magician only had to feel sorry for the girl's imaginary enemies. Usually, against the background of Valria, the swordswoman seemed less feminine, a little rough - but in battle this feeling disappeared. Each movement of Dallan was not only swift, but also graceful, each swing of the sword - verified to the split second. The master had no idea where the girl came from and what she did before meeting the elf friend, but he had no doubt that she had a personal fencing teacher. And that in itself can say a lot.
   - Your sword is quite light, sergeant, - the mage finally noticed. Unlike Valria, he addressed the sergeant as a real military officer - he himself did not know why. Maybe because of her calm and serious nature. - Do you always hold it with both hands?
   - Almost always, - the green-eyed girl replied calmly, without stopping. She didn't seem to be afraid to hold her breath. The girl's voice was low and soft, almost velvety. In this, she also differed from her partner. - Most of my opponents are stronger than me.
   - However, if necessary, you can hold it with one hand?
   - Yes. But I will quickly get tired, and the blows will be weaker. - As if to confirm her words, the girl made several stabbing attacks with her right hand, deftly threw the weapon into her left palm, and repeated the movements. She was quick and agile, even in a cuirass, but she really could hardly have pierced chain mail or leather armor with such injections.
   - And the dagger? I haven't seen you practice with it in your left hand.
   - I usually use the dagger separately when there is no sword. - The sergeant suddenly spun on her heels and froze, looking at the interlocutor. She put the blade on her shoulder. - But my left hand is also "working", I can deflect blows with it.
   - How? - this conversation with Dallan was the longest for all the time of their acquaintance, and the magician asked the question more to continue the conversation than out of curiosity.
   Instead of answering, the girl simply clenched her fingers into a fist and raised it, demonstrating the steel plate sewn onto the glove - from the wrist and almost to the elbow.
   - Any serious blow, even with the bluntest blade, it will not withstand.
   - My bones will not withstand a serious blow, they are too thin and fragile. - The swordswoman seemed to smile slightly. He wouldn't vouch for it - but the corners of her lips lifted for a moment, and something flashed in her eyes. - But the sliding one can be deflected, or simply deflect someone else's blade without the risk of cutting yourself.
   - The porridge is ready. It's going to burn now, - the elf said muffledly from under the hat, and Carlon had to interrupt the conversation in order to remove the cauldron from the fire.
   After supper they divided the watch. Valria was the first on the clock, her friend was the last. Carlon got the darkest hours before and after midnight. He didn't mind - it really was the right thing to do. At the appointed time, the elf woke him up by grabbing his nose with two fingers and tugging. Having listened to the well-deserved curses on her head, the girl climbed under the covers and immediately sniffed comfortably with her nose, putting her gloved hand on the butt of a magazine crossbow. The magician began to walk around the fire, sometimes throwing pieces of wood into it. The sky remained clear, but the young crescent of the moon gave almost no light. Outside the circle, lit by the fire, the darkness seemed impenetrable. Carlon was tempted to use the owl's eye spell to see through the darkness, but maintaining it required an expenditure of energy that should be saved for tomorrow. At some point, the master found himself sweating, and goosebumps ran down his back. "What nonsense. - he thought. - Like a rookie. You went through the war, what are you afraid of?" But the goosebumps turned into anxiety, anxiety turned into real fear. Carlon froze, clutching the cleaver handle in a sweaty palm. Outside the circle of light, something flickered, and there was a rustle, reminiscent of the steps of soft paws. The magician choked with horror, was dumbfounded ... and closed his eyes, hastily building a barrier in his mind. "You've let your guard down, fool! - he scolded himself. - Discipline of the mind!". The master could have understood earlier that the creeping fear that penetrated his soul was not real. Someone watching him from the darkness was trying to paralyze the mage with terror or send him into a stampede. After all, a person running without looking back is a convenient victim.
   - Oh, you scum - whispered Carlon. Still standing like a pillar, not letting go of the handle of the cleaver, he cast a sidelong glance at his companions. The girls slept peacefully. Getting into the mind of a sleeping person is even easier, but this requires a completely different gift, from a different sphere of magical talents. So it's best not to wake them up. The master focused on his own feelings - and at the same moment an invisible wall, exposed around his mind, seemed to be hit by a cast-iron cannonball from a siege bombard. The magician grimaced at the phantom pain, clutching his head in his hands. The blow was full of wild, raw power - and Carlon realized that he was not dealing with a man. One of the rare creatures, endowed with innate abilities to manipulate the mind, crept up to the fire. That's because he was "lucky" - there are only a few such creatures in the neutral zone. A predator that preys on thought intrusion is both better and worse than a mage with the same powers. Carlon realized that he could not withstand another blow - his composure would collapse. Because the magician ... removed all the barriers and let the enemy inside. It hurt--it hurt like hell. It's like voluntarily sticking an arrow in your stomach. Having let the predator dive into his soul, Carlon began to build new walls - but not in front of him, but around him. A former war mage was building a labyrinth. Memories, feelings, emotions became the material for the walls. The night hunter darted among them, more and more lost - powerful, but stupid. When the beast was completely confused, Carlon parted his lips and croaked:
   - Val... Valria! Va...
   It seemed to the magician that he was whispering - but both girls instantly woke up from his words. Seeing how the master stands, staggering and holding his head, the elf jerked the lever of the crossbow, cocked the bowstring, and only after that she threw back the blanket. The sergeant was already on her feet, blade drawn in her hand. She even managed to put on her boots.
   - There... - Carlon waved his hand in the direction where, as it seemed to him, the enemy was hiding. - Kill... quick...
   The sergeant gave a short nod and plunged into the darkness without hesitation. The elf followed her with a crossbow at the ready. For another minute or two, the magician held the beast in a trap, then experienced a flash of sharp pain - someone else's pain. And contact with the mind of the night hunter was interrupted. Groaning, the magician fell to his knees. Convulsively, he felt for the necessary flask on the bandage, tore off the cap with his teeth, greedily drank a portion of the elixir that strengthens the nerves. By this time, the mercenaries had returned to the camp. Dallan carried in her free hand a large bundle that was dripping. Judging by the size, someone's head could fit in the bundle. Valria hurried to the magician, bent over him, took him by the shoulders. She asked without hiding her concern:
   - How are you?
   - I'm going to be sick now, - the master admitted, dropping to his heels. - I'm too old for this...
   - Was it alone? This creature?
   - If there was a flock, I would notice.
   - Then lie down and sleep. - The girl helped him up and led him to his bed. - Right now. We'll take care.
   - I... yes, perhaps, - the magician muttered in a slurred tongue. - Necessary. But if you suddenly feel... yourself ...
   - I'll wake you up right away, - the elf promised, laying him on the blankets. Without any warning, the girl leaned over and pressed her lips to his forehead. - Sleep well.
   And although Carlon absolutely knew that the captain of the "Bright Heads did" not have a spark of magical talents, her kiss still seemed to have some kind of magical qualities. During the war, after such fights, the master was tormented by nightmares for weeks. This time he fell asleep instantly, and slept soundly, dreaming of something very pleasant - although in the morning he could not remember what it was...
  
   Chapter 3
   The night incident did not affect the plans of the detachment in any way. The elf woke Carlon in the dark, in a surprisingly merciful way - the captain carried a bowl of hot stew in front of his nose until the magician woke up from the smell. The travelers had breakfast and gathered quickly in order to move out at dawn and not lose an hour of daytime. Nevertheless, as soon as it began to get light, the first thing the master did was go to check on the corpse of their intruder. Apparently, once upon a time it was an ordinary domestic pig. Or one of the creature's ancestors was a pig. Pigs, of course, do not have a bone sting on the tail and small black scales instead of a skin, but in general the origin of the creature was still guessed. Carlon spat heartily at the decapitated remains before returning to camp. The girls were already in the saddles and were talking in an undertone about something, waiting for him. Taking his place in the saddle, the magician grumbled:
   - If such "pigs" wander around in one day's march from the border, it's time for someone in the ducal palace to point to the gallows. Where are the patrols looking?
   - I think it wandered in here recently in search of prey, - Valria shrugged. - Perhaps it was driven from his familiar places by someone bigger. I would look for traces - where the beast came from, was there one... I think I will return here after, if the military office gives an order for an investigation.
   - We have proof. - Sergeant Dallan leaned over and patted the tightly zipped leather bag in which she had hidden the creature's head. - But it will soon start to stink.
   - Then let's not delay. Forward! - the elf raised her hand theatrically and hit the horse with her heels - she did not wear spurs.
   The sun rose to its zenith, and the detachment crossed the wasteland scorched by magic in a chain. The relatively safe "doors" of the neutral zone ended, the group went deeper into the very heart of the lands unfriendly to all living things. The company was led by Valria, unusually attentive and silent. The elf vigilantly looked around and listened - it was noticeable by the way the sharp tips of her long ears rose and fell. The girl constantly kept a loaded infantry crossbow on her knees. The second was the magician. Watching the captain from under half-closed eyelids, the master listened more to his inner feelings. He was not afraid to miss a material threat, relying entirely on his companions. Dallan closed the short column. The sergeant unhooked the spear from her saddle and placed it across the pommel.
   The farther, the less monotonous the terrain became. There was no grass, but a tough thorny bush appeared, creeping along the ground, in places braiding dead trees. They had to dodge - in the thickets, horses could easily prick their legs into blood. From time to time there were crumbling ditches, funnels smoothed by time, round and elongated mounds of different heights. Some of them were mass graves, some were the remains of field fortifications. Once the detachment came across a completely normal-looking grove of two dozen young trees - healthy, with lush crowns. In their shadow, an equally ordinary lawn turned green, a spring spouted from the ground. A kind of oasis in the middle of the desert. The company traveled around this place in a wide arc. Valria looked over her shoulder for a long time, as if expecting the trees to give chase.
   An hour later they got into trouble again. In appearance, the dry plain did not change a bit, but blue lightning the size of a fingernail danced around the magnificent white feather on the elf's hat. Carlon closed his eyes - and found that he continued to see lightning through his lowered eyelids. One of the signal wards in his baldric began to heat up. The magician pulled out a copper plate of the amulet, looked at it, hiding it from the blinding sun in his palms. Transparent pebbles set in copper shimmered the same color as lightning. Their light was also visible through the eyelids.
   - We are not going further, - the master said resolutely to his companions. They turned their horses around without question. They had to return in their tracks and set a new detour, losing more than half an hour on this - but no one reproached the magician with a word. Valria gave him a questioning look as they walked, but Carlon just shook his head and there were no questions.
   It was well past noon, and the captain sometimes stood up in her stirrups, looking for a convenient place to stop for lunch. But the bush fields and groves of dead trees looked too inhospitable. So, at the request of the elf, Dallan distributed crackers and thin pieces of dried meat to the detachment, which were eaten right on the go. While eating, the wanderers let their guard down a little and almost ran into a strange structure. Across their route, something like ship frames stuck out of the ground - two rows of black beams, curved towards each other. Only when he got close to them, Carlon realized that these were not beams ...
   - Those are ribs, - Valria voiced his thoughts aloud. - Dragon ribs.
   The elfess jumped down to the ground, walked over to the giant bones. Ignoring the warning exclamation of the magician, she put her hand on one of the ribs. She said quietly, without turning around:
   - Poor fellow... Very young...
   The dragon, judging by the size of the skeleton, was really small, almost a teenager. In any case, by the standards of land breeds. Most of the bones were covered with earth, even the skull was not visible. But to Carlon's surprise, Valria's voice trembled, as if she were standing over the body of a kinsman. The tips of the girl's ears drooped.
   - Probably shot down during the war, - the master said the first thing that came to mind.
   - Yes, probably ... - the elf agreed. She walked along the skeleton to the last ribs, examined something there, beckoned to her companions. The magician dismounted, approached, leading the horse by the bridle. He saw what Valria was considering. Where the last ribs should have been, two short stumps protruded from the cracked soil. The edges of the cuts had not yet had time to darken, the bone seemed yellowish-white.
   - Someone was here recently. - The girl sat down and carefully touched the cut with thin fingers, tightened into the thick leather of the glove. - A loner or a small detachment like ours, otherwise they would have taken everything away. Dragonbone is valued...
   - Or someone scared them off, - Dallan put in. The sergeant remained in the saddle, ready to shield her comrades from any threat.
   - Yes, or someone scared. - The elf straightened up. Her voice has already changed. - But mind you, there are no tools lying around. So they left without panic.
   - Traces? - Carlon asked. Instead of answering, the girl hit the ground with her heel. She stepped back so that the barely noticeable dent, knocked out by the blow, became visible, ironically asked:
   - Here? If we stay until the evening, I'll find something, I promise.
   Of course, they did not linger - on the contrary, they increased their pace. After the dead dragon, they came across a broken artillery battery - perhaps even the dragon died attacking it. Cannon carriages, baskets of earth and palisade stakes rotted away, now the battery was a long earthen rampart, from which in some places protruded bombards eaten by rust.
   - Judging by where the guns are looking, we are going to the battlefield, - said Carlon.
   - Do you know what kind of battle was here? - Valria moved her horse to a walk, took out a flask of water.
   - I have no idea. I fought in the south.
   - The Imperial Seventh Army, supported by two cavalry corps of the Duchy, has stopped the advance of the army of the Royal Marshal de Abrozzi, - Dallan announced unexpectedly. - With the marshal were the king's plate cavalry, mercenary infantry from both republics, and a dozen dragonriders. Probably the one we saw is one of them.
   - Do you remember the battle plan? - the elf girl clarified, pretending that she did not enjoy Carlon's surprise at all, but simply unscrewed the tight cap.
   - No, I'm sorry.
   - Then we don't know how wide the dead field is. - After drinking a couple of sips, Valria put away her flask, adjusted the quiver at her belt. - One more detour and we won't reach the fort before dusk. We're going straight. Scientist man, what do you think?
   - In ten years, there are hardly corpse-eaters out there. - Carlon scratched his head. - Spirits, ghosts, petty demons won't appear in daylight. My opinion is that the risk is justified.
   - Here you go. - The elf touched the brim of her hat with a smile. - Now if something happens, it's not all my fault. We can keep going.
   A sure sign that a battle had once taken place in these parts was not the bones of fallen warriors, not scattered shields, helmets, fragments of armor, broken swords and spears, arrows sticking out of the ground. No, ten years later, the remains of the battle were mostly traces of excavations. Even here, in the neutral zone, those wishing to profit from the property of the dead penetrated. Some of the rectangular pits dug by the marauders had collapsed, others looked quite fresh.
   - You know ... - Carlon said slowly, looking around. - I take back my words. Corpse-eaters can still be found here. They have something to eat.
   - Yeah. - Valria didn't even let out a taunt about it. She drew back her infantry crossbow, unfastened both quiver-bags at her hips. Taking a large crossbow in her hands, she put the repeating crossbow on her knees and now controlled the horse with her legs.
   The company probably reached the middle of the dead field, when something flashed on their right in the thickets of thorns. Despite the risk, the captain deviated from the direct path, wishing to know what it was. It turned out that the trunk of an arquebus lying on the ground was shining. There were no other traces of a person nearby - just a gun on the ground, that's all.
   - Not rusty, - Carlon frowned.
   The elf leaned out of the saddle, deftly picked up the arquebus, miraculously not losing her hat, and handed the trophy to her partner. She sniffed the section of the barrel, examined the matchlock, the gun stock. Ran a verdict:
   - They shot from it. Not later than at night. There is a drop of blood on the butt. Haven't been able to reload.
   - We can't help the owner of this thing, - Valria sighed. - Company, in battle order.
   The detachment formed a wedge. Dallan was now leading the group, the mage and the elf moving behind her, keeping an eye on the flanks. The far part of the dead field was overgrown with bushes so densely that it was necessary to let the horses through, despite their plaintive neighing. Valria was turning her head more and more anxiously, spinning her ears like her white horse. Finally, she raised her clenched fist.
   - Stop!
   When the detachment stopped, the girl pulled out an enchanted arrow with scarlet plumage from her quiver and put it into her crossbow. She said cheerfully, with a slight smile:
   - They are here. They creep, but I hear them in the bushes. A few behind, the rest on the sides. Ahead is quiet, only stinks of rot.
   - They are leading us into an ambush, - Dallan nodded, removing a spear from her saddle pommel.
   - Do you have a plan? - Carlon said it in such a way that Valria immediately understood that he was quite sure that she had no plan. Usually such a tone acted on the elf like a hole in a pentagram - on an imprisoned demon.
   - Of course I have! - the girl pulled the cloak over her shoulder, stroked the bow of the crossbow. - We break through the right flank, go around the ambush and leave at a gallop. First I lead, then you, Dallan, and I cover. Carlon constantly stays in the center, helps according to circumstances.
   - How exactly are we going to break through? - the master frowned.
   - Like this. - The elf raised crossbow to her shoulder and pressed the trigger. An enchanted arrow flashed in the air in a red-gold stroke, hit somewhere in the bush a hundred paces from people. It rumbled, a sphere of dark crimson flame grew in the place of impact, burning dry branches flew in different directions.
   - Forward! - Valria waved her hand. The sergeant promptly spurred the horse. Her tall warhorse, not noticing the pain from hundreds of needles that dug into his legs, broke a path for the rest in the thorny thickets. The detachment rushed straight to the bald patch scorched by an arrow. At full gallop, Valria managed to hang an infantry crossbow from her saddle and pick up a multi-shot one. Two gray figures of human size darted across the riders. Carlon did not really consider them - one immediately capsized with an arrow in her head, the other tried to block the path of the column, and received a spear in the chest. An inept horseman would have been knocked to the ground by such a blow, because the spear was not created for mounted combat, but Valria's green-eyed friend did not even stagger in the saddle. The corpse-eater flew back into the bushes with a spear wedged between its ribs, a rider in silver armor rushed past, drawing her sword. Other hunters howled behind them, realizing that their prey had deceived them. Branches crackled - the flock rushed in pursuit. But the flames also crackled - the dry thorn burned perfectly, in many places where the smoldering pieces of bushes fell, small fires took place. It could be played with. Carlon removed the flask marked with the required letter from the sling, pulled off the cap, spat inside, plugged the neck and threw the vessel over his left shoulder. Ten seconds later, the flask exploded, creating a cloud of black smoke, impenetrable and terribly acrid. The cloud stretched out to the sides, creating a barrier a hundred steps wide and fifty steps deep.
   The company escaped from the dead field, moved away from it, without slowing down the gait. The howling of the corpse-eaters and the crackling of the fire soon died down, but the smoke behind them grew more and more - the thicket provided enough fuel for a serious fire. The captain ordered a stop, but only to pull the thorns out of the horses' legs, wash their wounds with at least water - and drive on.
   - At night they will try to find us, - Carlon warned, returning to the saddle. His bay stallion did not suffer much - all the spikes went to the sergeant's horse. - These creatures are vengeful.
   - I don't plan to go back the same way anyway, - Valria waved her hand away. A successful fight with monsters cheered up the girl, she even sang something - glory to the Creator, under her breath. - And they will lose track.
   In confirmation of her words, the elf fished out a paper bundle from the saddle bag, tore it up and generously scattered some kind of powder on the ground - black, with red grains.
   - Don't try to sniff, - she warned Carlon. - Lick - even more so.
   - Leltord's Pepper? - the magician remembered. It was believed that the infernal mixture, which beats off the scent of not only dogs, but generally anyone up to dragons, was personally invented by the leader of the elven rebels of the last century.
   - Almost, - Valria nodded, closing the bag tightly. - Home recipe.
   In the next hour, the detachment several times slightly deviated from the intended path, and each time the elf launched a bag of "pepper". Only when the horses began to noticeably run out of steam did the travelers take a step, move straight towards the goal. The walls of the ruined fort rose on the horizon as the sun dipped low enough to cast long shadows on riders and dry tree trunks.
   - Finally! - very pleased with herself, the elf took out a strip of hard dried horse meat on this occasion, bit off a piece of it. - Almost done. The rest is a business for twenty minutes. Came in and out. Get ready to fill your pockets with coins, Carlon.
  
   Chapter 4
   Even from afar, the destruction that the fort had undergone during the siege was visible. Round gate towers lost their tops, and one of the corner towers melted like a candle stub. The walls gaped with breaches, the dry moat was barely visible in the lush thickets of thorns.
   - Do you feel anything? - the elf asked Carlon.
   - May be. - The mage scratched his beard. - Nothing specific.
   Closing his eyelids, he saw a shaky green flicker, repeating the outlines of the fortifications. At the base of the least battered of the towers, an emerald light burned - a still-functioning fortress amulet, embedded in the foundation. It blew wild magic - like an electrified wind, foreshadowing an imminent thunderstorm.
   - It's better not to go to the western tower, - the master said, opening his eyes. - Everything else seems to be clean.
   - So the catch is something else, - Valria chuckled. She jumped down, tossed her horse's bridle to the sergeant. Girl took off her cloak and threw it on the saddle. - Wait here, I'll scout out the approaches.
   Grabbing only a magazine crossbow, the girl dived into the thick of the bush, instantly disappeared from sight. For a minute or two the magician saw a white feather flickering among the branches, then he lost sight of that too. And almost immediately began to feel growing anxiety. For some reason, it always seemed to him that if he let Valria go somewhere alone, she would definitely get into trouble - fall into a hole, be devoured by someone, or, at worst, struck by lightning in broad daylight. Interestingly, he felt this excitement only when working with an elf in a pair. While she was turning her extravagant adventures without his participation, the magician did not worry about the girl in the slightest. Fortunately, the master did not have to toil for a long time in the company of the silent Dallan - Valria returned in half an hour. Appearing from a completely different direction from where she left, she waved her hand to her companions. Without saying a word, she went up to her white-maned mare, took a large flask from her saddle bag, and drank some water. Wiping her lips with a glove, she busily began to untie the scabbard with a sword from her saddle.
   - Tell me already, long-eared! - Carlon flared up - although he knew that Valria expected this from him.
   - We must hurry, we have competitors. - The girl tightened the sword belt on her chest, moving the quiver from her left thigh back so as not to interfere.
   - Who? How? - Dallan asked in a calm voice. Carlon, in fact, was not dumbfounded by the news either - he knew from the very beginning that something would go wrong. The only question was what exactly.
   - I don't know yet, but there are traces of battle in the courtyard of the fortress. - Valria slipped on her cloak, fastened a sling to her infantry crossbow, and slung it over her shoulder. - Puddles of blood, a dozen corpses. And horses. Two harnessed carts, six riding horses. Tied. The corpses are stacked in a row - it means that someone took care. There is no one else in the yard. They must have gone underground. Pulls gunpowder when the wind is in our direction. Shot recently. Let's go take a closer look. I alone did not dare to go there.
   The group entered the shadow of the towers shattered by cannonballs and magic, leading the horses by the bridle. The moat crumbled so much that it no longer served as a barrier, they passed the wall through a wide gap. Everything that the elf told about was found in the square courtyard of the fort. Other people's horses were tied to a still strong stone hitching post near the blocked gate. They greeted the appearance of strangers with alarming snorts and neighs. Valria, not at all afraid of a kick or a bite, approached the worried herd. She stroked one horse on the forehead, another on the neck, said a few tender words to them, which she probably never said to any man - and the neighing subsided. Carlon, meanwhile, went to the corpses piled under the far wall. Taking a closer look, he raised his eyebrows.
   - What kind of rubbish is this, in the name of the Creator?
   Three of the dead turned out to be people - judging by the clothes and simple leather armor, mercenaries. The other five are strange. In general terms, humanoid, they did not even resemble each other. One gray-skinned creature had a tuft of tentacles protruding from its shoulders instead of a head, while another had a horny beak on the front half of its skull, with no trace of eyes or nose. One creature had no skin at all - through the mesh of the muscles of the torso, strangely twisted, blackened internal organs were visible. Three of the monsters showed no signs of sex, two were undeniably male. Valria, who came up, glanced at the latter, wrinkled her nose:
   - I don't know if these guys have a mind, but they definitely don't have shame and conscience.
   - A bit like corpse eaters, - added the swordswoman who joined them. Unlike the magician and the elf, the green-eyed girl only cast a short glance at the bodies, and now looked around vigilantly, closing her fingers on the hilt of the sword.
   - But definitely not corpse-eaters, - the captain shook her head.
   - Maybe...were corpse-eaters. But rather, people. - Carlon couldn't take his eyes off the ugly bodies. Bullet holes and traces of chopping blows did not add beauty to them. - It's... flesh distortion. This happens due to exposure to raw magical energy. Per person, per animal. A living being changes chaotically... but does not die. Combat magic does not give such an effect. Any magic turned into spell form does not. It's something else. And that something was here. The distorted do not have the intelligence to go far from the place where they were transformed.
   - That's our catch, then. - The elf furrowed her eyebrows, staring at her hand. - Won't we become the same if we climb into the cellars? I... got used to my appearance. Especially for hair.
   - Don't worry, we won't. I appreciate your hair too, - Carlon reassured the girl almost without sarcasm. - If your appearance does not compensate for your character, you will become completely impossible... Hey!
   Thanks to the reflexes developed over the years of mercenary work, the master managed to block a blow to the liver and took a step back:
   - Sorry. In general, if the residual background of wild magic was so strong here that the flesh was distorted from it, I would feel it from afar. Even through earth and stone. No, it was something like a flash, a splash, years ago. I bet something happened during the siege. And these poor fellows are people, soldiers. Were.
   - And they've been living here ever since. - The elf pursed her lips. - But they could keep...
   - No.
   - Then it's our duty to put them to rest, - Dallan said without turning around as she watched the buildings at the back of the yard. - Their bodies are alive, which means that their souls cannot get to the Creator.
   - Only on occasion. - Valria shook her bruised hand and flexed her fist. - For now, we need to go down, and I'll be glad not to meet a single local resident along the way.
   - And what are we going to do downstairs? - Carlon asked. - If we catch up with competitors - will we arrange a fight?
   - You'll see it there. The main thing is to catch up.
   - Everything is as usual, - the master chuckled. - Your signature methods...
   - I am one hundred and four years old. At this age, it's too late to change habits. - The elf's smile, as always, was completely disarming.
   There was no need to look for a descent into the cellars of the fort - like in all similar fortifications, it was located on the lower floor of the central tower. But here new problems arose. The passage under the ground turned out to be tightly sealed with a solid door upholstered with rusty iron strips. The elf put her ear to the door and tapped it with her knuckles. She stretched out, retreating:
   - Thick... And door hinges inside. How did the door survive the assault?
   - The records say that the Imperials dug into the cellars of the fort, - Carlon recalled. - And they broke in when the defenders were on the walls. So the door wasn't locked. But why is it closed now?
   - What's the difference? - Valria wiped her dusty ear with a handkerchief. - Can you take it down with your magic?
   - There is no amulet on the door, so... - the master unbuttoned the pocket of the sling, pulled out a disk woven from gold wire with a scarlet stone in the center. - I can do this thing. But there is a risk that the corridor will collapse, especially if it turns just outside the door and the fire hits the wall before it weakens. And I also need to pour so much energy into the amulet that you will drag me further on yourself. And then you'll fatten me up with meat pies for a week. Mind you, I do not like it when there are a lot of onions.
   - You will not get it. - The elf snorted and put her index finger in the middle of her forehead. - I will not share pies with you... We need another option.
   - Digging, - the sergeant said calmly.
   - What? - Valria tossed her head.
   - The tunnel through which the besiegers entered the fortress, - Dallan explained patiently, as for a small child. - Let's find a tunnel. Master Carlon, do you remember where it starts? The customer showed you a map.
   - Yes I remember. - The mage rubbed the back of his head. - But in ten years it has definitely collapsed.
   - Still, it's worth checking out. - The violet eyes of the elf flared with familiar fire. - Come on, hurry up!
   The grove, which once hid the beginning of the dig from the eyes of the fort's defenders, was now visible through and through - after all, there were no leaves left on the trees. The sharp-sighted elf was the first to notice the boards sticking out of the ground, pointed to them. The group reached the place at a trot, dismounted. Carlon cursed through his teeth, muttered:
   - I told you...
   Where the Imperial military engineers had first struck the ground with picks and shovels, there was now a deep, oblong pit, merging into an even deeper ditch that stretched towards the fort. Of course, the hastily dug tunnel did not survive the test of time.
   - Let's drive along it to the end, - Dallan suggested, not a bit upset.
   - Why? - The elf turned to her.
   - If the tunnel collapsed along its entire length ...
   - Wait, I understand, - Carlon interrupted the girl. - But it all depends on pure luck.
   - I have no problems with luck. - Valeria winked at them both. - What should we be lucky in?
   - You'll see. - The magician did not miss the chance to repay the captain with her own coin. Dallan unexpectedly supported him without saying anything either.
   They rode back to the fortress, following the ditch like a guiding thread. All this time, the elf frowned at the magician from under the brim of her hat, clearly cherishing plans for revenge. Knowing what she was capable of, the master did not torment the girl for longer than necessary. Already approaching the ruins, he pointed with his finger:
   - Look. Where the tunnel passed under the wall, it also collapsed. If we're lucky, the debris from the wall didn't completely fill the hole...
   They were lucky. A black hole was visible in the inner wall of the moat, only partially covered with fragments of stone and clods of dry earth. The sun was now setting on the other side of the fortress, and the gap was sinking into shadow. The mercenaries descended into the ditch. Carlon drove a peg with a ring into the ground, secured a long strong cable. Dallan pursed her lips tightly as she cut down a couple of thorny bushes blocking the passage with her sword. The captain all this time stood on the edge of the gap with a crossbow at the ready, peering into the darkness.
   - I hear something, - she said, twitching her ears. - Looks like someone was shooting downstairs.
   The master unhooked another flask from his belt and handed it to the sergeant:
   - Drink this. Night vision for two hours.
   - Military mixture? - the green-eyed swordswoman clarified, taking the flask.
   - Of course, - Carlon nodded. The military version of the potion not only increased the sensitivity of the eyes to light - after it, the vision reacted flexibly to changes in lighting, allowing not to go blind from a sudden flash of fire. - Valria, you don't need to?
   - No, round-eared barbarian, I'm still an elf, in case you haven't noticed, - the captain snorted without turning around. All her attention was riveted on the failure, the tips of her ears were trembling. The girl listened to the sounds coming from the catacombs.
   - Well, good. There may not be even weak light sources underground, so take these things and hang them on your belts. - The magician took out three bluish transparent pebbles from the waist bag, exuding a barely noticeable radiance. More than enough for night vision.
   He closed his eyes tightly, drew the necessary sign in the air with two fingers, read the spell and sent a bit of magical energy into his own body. The sensation was as if ice water had been splashed on the eyeballs from the inside of the head. Hooting, the master lifted his eyelids. The dim light of the dying day hurt his eyes, but Carlon stoically endured the pain, not even grimacing - the feeling was familiar. The magician had to stand night guards even after the war.
   - All down! - the elf commanded. - Dallan first, Carlon closes. Don't get stuck with your belly.
   The magician grumbled something under his breath, but did not respond to the prompting. He let the girls go first and went down last, holding on tightly to the cable. He was not in danger of getting stuck in a hole, but sliding down a pile of earth was easy. Sintered dry clods slid under the soles of the boots, only the edges of stone blocks sticking out here and there, which had fallen into the old dig along with the ground, could serve as a support. At the very end, he slipped, but Valria, who was waiting at the ready, supported him in time.
   - I didn't even doubt that you would stumble, - she said, helping the magician get off the earthen heap.
   - Thank you, - Carlon squeezed out gratitude through force, looking around. The dip led them into a large square room, completely empty. Half of the room was filled with earth from the sinkhole. On the other side was a door, covered with a flap hanging on one hinge. Dallan stood in front of the door, sword at the ready.
   - Imperial soldiers entered the basement here, - the elf said, standing next to her friend. - This should be the second level of the dungeons, the first one we skipped. The customer believes that the gold is stored on the last, third. Where are our competitors...
   Her answer was the echo of a rifle volley, booming under the entire dungeon.
   - Yeah, - the girl nodded in satisfaction. - Somewhere around here. If we hurry, we will get to the goal first, take up defenses there and talk with the guests, sitting on the chests.
   - Do you still think there's some gold in there? - the mage asked skeptically.
   - I'm sure it isn't. - The elf straightened her hat that had gone astray, smoothed the feather with her palm. - But there is a mystery, and this is much better.
   She gently touched the crookedly hanging door with her fingertips... and it collapsed outward, throwing a cloud of dust in half with wood dust. Valria coughed, covering her mouth and nose with the hem of her cloak, her eyes filled with tears. The sergeant, obviously holding her breath, stepped into the corridor, looked left, right, and gestured that the path was clear.
   The dungeon of the dead fortress met new intruders with cold and dust. But there was no talk of silence - somewhere on the left hand, volleys of several arquebuses rumbled measuredly, completely eerie sounds were heard, vaguely reminiscent of animal cries and howls. Whoever the people who descended into the cellars first were, they moved slowly, without unnecessary risk, methodically sweeping away all obstacles in their path with fire. Obviously, all the indigenous inhabitants of the dungeons were drawn to them. So far, Carlon and his companions have seen paw prints on the dusty floor and unpleasant-looking scratches on the stone walls as signs of life. The magician mentally rejoiced that in front of them lies an ordinary abandoned basement, in which one should not be afraid of any ingenious traps. The danger was represented only by the creatures that settled in the forgotten tunnels. Nevertheless, they advanced with all precautions. Sergeant Dallan walked first, followed by an elf woman a little to the left. Valria's sword rested in its sheath. Instead of a blade, she held a repeating crossbow at the ready, relying more on a successful point-blank shot than swordsmanship in such close quarters. Covering the backs of the girls, Carlon stroked the handle of the infantry cleaver - the master could snatch it very quickly.
   The corridor led them first from north to south, then turned sharply to the east. Then came the crossroads, where the thunder of gunshots and the howling of monsters became more audible. The map provided by the employer helped to choose the right direction, and after a couple of minutes, leaving the shooting behind, the travelers found themselves in front of a stone staircase to the lower tier.
   - Almost there, - Valria said quietly. The sergeant nodded and cautiously descended the chipped steps. She looked around at the lower platform, waved her hand, calling her companions. Three corridors led off the stairs.
   - We have to go straight ahead. - The captain took a step towards the middle aisle and froze. She said worriedly: - I hear footsteps. There...
   A moment later, from the darkness of the corridor, a blurry gray mass darted straight at the elf like a cannonball. Reflexes did not let any of the mercenaries down - Valria jumped back, and sergeant Dallan appeared in the way of the attacker as if from under the ground. A crossbow clicked, a blade whistled, steel-sliced flesh slurped as a severed claw flew over the sergeant's head. The monster that attacked the elf recoiled back, allowing himself to be examined. Bipedal, covered in a rough gray hide, as tall as Carlon, but much narrower at the shoulders. The thinness of the creature was compensated by long arms, separated behind the elbow joint - so it seemed as if the creature had four arms. Now one hand was missing, a crossbow arrow was sticking out of the monster's chest - but the wounds did not bother him at all. "Gray" opened its mouth full of sharp fangs, let out a guttural roar, and again rushed to the attack. The second arrow Valria drove the creatures in the forehead - with no apparent effect. The sergeant deftly ducked under the monster's outstretched paws, letting its sickle-shaped claws click on her cuirass, slashed from bottom to top, ripping open the enemy's stomach. The creature collapsed on its back... And long black tentacles burst out of its opened belly and reached for the green-eyed girl. She backed away, holding her sword out in front of her. And Carlon finally fished out from the bottom of his waist bag a tightly stuffed pouch, tied with a red ribbon. He loosened the braid with a jerk, stood side by side with Dallan, threw out his hand with the pouch, whispering the right words. Obeying the movements of his brush, the orange powder left the bag, rushed like a sinuous ribbon to the gray-skinned creature, braided it, intertwined a bunch of tentacles, like a real ribbon a bouquet of flowers. The mage snapped his fingers. And the powder turned into a liquid flame. In less than a second, the magically distorted creature was completely drowned in the fire. The tentacles fought for a short time, trying to reach people, but in the end they also drooped. Dallan took a deep breath as she lowered her sword.
   - It was his intestines, - Valria said in a completely emotionless voice from behind the mage. - I see a lot in my life, but this...
   - It's always like that with magic -- you can never say you've seen it all. - Carlon swallowed. He looked around, smiling nervously. - That powder was already worth more than my advance on this case. Saved this thing for a year...
   The elf silently took out a gold coin from somewhere under her vest and put it into the magician's hand. He shook his head.
   - No, it's your share...
   - Take it, or I'll shove it up your collar at night while you sleep. - The captain slapped the master on the shoulder and walked past, on the go removing a half-empty magazine from her crossbow. The sergeant silently patted him on the back from the other side and followed the commander. Sideways, they squeezed past the smoldering remains of the monster, deeper into the corridor.
   The ghostly breeze of raw magic got stronger, Carlon literally felt it on his skin. The wild energy did not pose a threat yet, but the feeling was not pleasant, as if you had plunged into a web with your whole body. They were approaching the epicenter of the outbreak that had spawned the monsters that filled the fortress. The master noticed how the usually imperturbable Dallan ran her hand over her face - apparently, she felt a faint echo of what the magician was now experiencing.
   - There is no gold there, - for some reason the master said aloud, and Valria looked back at him, put her finger to her lips. After the battle, it hardly made sense to keep silence, but Carlon obediently fell silent. All three mercenaries quickened their pace. If there were enough doors in the corridors on the second tier leading to warehouses and closets, empty or clogged with rotten barrels, then here they had not yet come across a single one. Attacks from the flank were not to be feared, and the target was waiting straight ahead.
   A vaulted tunnel lined with gray stone ended in a tall double door. The elf carefully examined it, looked inquiringly at the mage. He nodded. The captain stepped back, letting Dallan to the door. The sergeant pressed the door first. Then she pulled out a ring-handle. Then she hit the sash with her shoulder and the door gave way. Apparently the entrance wasn't locked, just the hinges had been covered in dirt and rust over the decades. The magician joined the girl, leaning against the other door - the door swung open with a piercing creak. The sergeant immediately jumped back, raising her sword, Valria aimed the crossbow over her shoulder - but the master froze on the threshold. He banged his fist against his palm, and with a satisfaction incomprehensible even to himself declared:
   - As I said.
   The room that opened before their eyes was definitely not a treasury. Tables filled with alchemical utensils, cupboards lined the walls full of magical equipment, and a huge arch of black stone in the center of the room. The vault of the arch collapsed, some of the tables were overturned, a couple of cabinets collapsed, and the floor, in addition to dust, was covered with glass crumbs mixed with scraps of paper.
   - A magical laboratory, - said the already obvious fact Carlon. - With fixed portal.
   - And I'm ready to pawn my hat that Mr. Sandr knew where he was sending us. - Valria's voice sounded almost enthusiastic. Entering the room, the elf knelt down, picked up a dusty sheet of paper from the floor, brushed it off. - Carlon, can you tell me what they were doing here?
   - Perhaps, if I look around. - The master went straight to the black stone arch. Behind him, the sergeant closed the door and stood before her, blade in hand.
   - Do you think everything that happened here is because of... this? - Straightening up, the captain pointed to the archway with a nod.
   - Surely it is. - The magician climbed onto the stone pedestal that served as the foundation for the arch. He took out a sturdy leather case from his bag, where his glasses were stored on a soft lining. Putting them on his nose, he began to examine the signs dotted with black stone. - An improperly opened portal is the best source for raw magic. Therefore, they are forbidden to open in cities. But in order for the ejection to cover the whole fortress... They had to pump dozens of times more energy into it than usual.
   - How many people can go through such an archway? - Valria asked. She left the rubbish on the floor alone and now studied the dishes that had survived on the tables.
   - Five, six. And the last two will seriously risk their health. Then you need to open it again.
   - So maybe the Iderlings were trying to open... a kind of portal through which more people could be brought through? To transfer reinforcements from the rear, for example? - The elfess removed a pot-bellied retort from the table, wiped the dust off it and looked inside, almost touching the glass with her nose.
   - No. - Carlon squatted down to get a better view of the signs on the bottom of the arch. - Research in this area has been going on for centuries, and everyone has long understood that simply adding more magic will not solve the problem. Here is something else. These signs...
   - What's wrong with them?
   - These are... magical symbols that show the way. But... they are not what we were taught. They are not related to space. Ah... I don't even know. With time. With energy. With otherworldly plans.
   - You mean, - the captain turned to him, returning the retort to its place, - that the Coalition tried to open a portal here to move not in space, but in time?
   - No. There is something much more complex here. - The master gritted his teeth in annoyance. - I... just don't have the education to figure it out. Here we need an archmage, moreover, a theoretician, not a military one.
   - Then draw it all, - the elf ordered. - I have no doubt that the customer will figure it out himself. Then check these pieces of paper on the floor and tables, maybe we'll take something with us. And I...
   - Captain! - Dallan called out to her.
   - We have guests, - Valria chuckled. The master also heard quick steps in the corridor - a booming echo carried them far away. He hastily took out an amulet of gold wire, which was not useful upstairs, whispered a few words over it and threw it to the door - so that it would be hidden by the right wing when the door opened. Dallan, meanwhile, stepped back from the threshold, standing between two tables, blocking the direct path from the door to the portal arch.
   The high doors swung open from a powerful blow, almost flying off their hinges. People in identical leather armor burst into the laboratory. Three... four... five. Two are armed with arquebuses, two with short swords. The fifth held in his hand a slightly curved saber with a hilt without a cross. He was outwardly different from the rest - short, thin, fair-skinned, slanting eyes, black hair gathered at the top of his head in a bun. A typical native of the Republic of Erdo, a descendant of refugees from the Cherry Islands. Seeing the mercenaries and the magician, the five skillfully reorganized - the arquebusiers stepped back, throwing up their guns, the swordsmen covered the Republican with themselves.
   - I thought there would be more of you, - Valria remarked, calmly standing to the left of her sergeant, so that a massive table remained between her and the guests.
   - Losses, - the Republican replied calmly. - We were careful, but we did not avoid losses. Please lay down your weapons and leave.
   Are you going to check your pockets? - the elf girl inquired.
   - Of course, - the man nodded.
   - And then let go?
   - We don't need you. Only the contents of this room.
   - Ah-h... - The elf's long ears stood erect, touching the brim of her hat. - Stop lying. The Republic is part of the Coalition. You are not an adventurer, you were sent here. You know what's here. You know that the most valuable thing in this room is information. You can't let us go because you think the Empire sent us and we might learn something.
   - And you are right, perhaps, - the Republican agreed, as if reluctantly. He raised his hand, giving the command to the companions. - Ki...
   Carlon breathed out an activation word and snapped his fingers. The golden talisman, waiting for its moment behind the door leaf, came to life. The "Fire Disc" was created for battle mages serving in assault units to break through field fortifications and strong doors with a narrow beam of flame. Now the disc has thrown a jet of fire into the floor directly below it...
   The force of the explosion went into the stone slab on which the talisman lay. But the shock wave hit the ears of everyone gathered in the room, raised all the dust that had accumulated on the floor and walls, and also ... slammed the door leaf, which knocked the arquebusier down on the way. The second shooter frantically fired somewhere to the side - and tumbled back with an arrow in his eye socket. Valria jumped to the side, tugging at the lever of her crossbow, Sergeant Dallan rushed to attack the stunned enemies. The first swordsman did not have time to come to his senses - the girl pierced his neck with a stabbing attack. The second one closed with a blade, but immediately received an arrow from the elf in the back, and the sergeant finished him off with a cutting blow to the neck. The arquebusier, knocked down by the door, was about to rise, trying to aim at Dallan, but the magician flew at him, brandishing an infantry cleaver. The sergeant was left alone with the Republican. He skillfully shifted so that the girl covered him with herself from Valria, brought down a hail of quick blows on her. Dallan fought back, but backed away, barely keeping up with her opponent's rhythm. Suddenly, the republican made a deceitful feint, and instead of a new chopping blow, he jumped forward with his whole body, aiming with the tip of his saber at the girl's stomach not protected by steel. The sergeant, with a movement similar to a dance step, turned half-turn, letting the enemy's blade pass, and struck down. The Republican dropped to one knee, blocked the sergeant's blade with his own... and at the same moment an arrow from a magazine crossbow pierced his temple. Carlon, meanwhile, cornered the enemy, who was fighting off with the butt of a gun, and finished off, first cutting off his fingers on his right hand, and then driving a cleaver into his collarbone.
   - Are you okay? - Leaving the crossbow on the floor, Valria ran up to her friend, who was still standing over the corpse of the Republican.
   - Yes, - without taking her eyes off the dead body at her feet, the sergeant lowered her sword. - This... could be a good fight.
   - Could be. - The elf took the green-eyed girl by the shoulders and turned her around to face her. - Only you're not a knight to arrange duels, right?
   - Yes. Not a knight, - Dallan replied with a strange expression and covered her eyes with an armored glove. She shook her head. - Not a knight.
   - Did you finish there? - Carlon asked, wiping the blood from the cleaver on the sleeve of the jacket of the arquebusier still trembling in agony.
   - Yes. - The captain let go of her friend's shoulders and walked towards him. - Both are intact, thanks for asking. How is it yourself?
   - My muscles hurt, - the mage admitted. - And I don't even have the strength to support the "owl's eye". Will you take me upstairs by the hand?
   - You deserved. - The elf smiled and really took his hand. - Let's just finish the job first.
   While the magician, by the light of a trophy oil lantern, redrawn the signs from the arch of the portal onto a piece of paper, the girls dragged the corpses to the wall and stuffed a travel bag with tattered papers collected from the tables and the floor. Then Valria busily searched the dead, stuffed a couple of tight purses into an empty crossbow magazine bag, sheathed the Republican saber. Handed the weapon over to Dallan:
   - Your trophy. Do not argue.
   They ran upstairs, remembering that there should be no more threats in the basement, and it was getting dark on the surface. The mercenaries and the magician came out through the very door through which they had not been able to enter recently - it turned out to be bolted from the inside, the hinges were soundly oiled. In the courtyard, the elf ordered the cart horses to be unharnessed.
   - We'll take everyone with us, - she said decisively.
   - How can we drag ourselves through the Deadlands with such a herd? - the master was indignant. - We will be heard throughout the neutral zone!
   - I won't leave them here, - Valria lifted her chin stubbornly. - And then, horses are money. I have some doubts about how much we will receive from the customer...
   The mage couldn't find anything to say. Leading a dozen horses, they rode away from the ruins of the fort and set up camp already in complete darkness...
  
   * * *
   The neutral zone, such an impression, decided that there was enough trouble with the trio of travelers - they reached the borders of the duchy without problems, and even very quickly, thanks to an excess of spare horses. A couple of times, Carlon's amulets began to sound the alarm, and they had to go around dangerous areas, but they did not meet either corpse-eaters or mind-manipulating creatures along the way. Leaving the trophy herd in a suburban stable, the three of them, without saying a word, went to the same guest house and rented rooms closer to each other - just in case. In the evening, a messenger from the innkeeper told Valria that a certain important gentleman was waiting for them in a room on the ground floor...
   The second meeting with Mr. Sandr took place at a much more richly laid table. Having done all the necessary manipulations with the candlestick, the auditory opening and the cork, the elf first of all set to the roast, and for about five minutes she wielded the spoon with indescribable grace under the cold gaze of the client. Finally, emptying the bowl, she leaned back on the bench and asked without a smile:
   - Mister Sandr, tell me, please... Why didn't His Grace Lord Povikasis address me directly? Why all these games in the dark? We've known him for a long time.
   The thin old man chuckled, not at all ominously, contrary to Carlon's expectations. He said, tapping his finger on the rim of the glass of wine:
   - Lord Povikasis has been the chief of imperial intelligence for a year now only formally. He is old, and the gout has finished him off. Now all affairs are conducted by the deputy and student of the lord, baron Antonikos. He does not know you personally, but he listened to the recommendations of the mentor when it came to this matter. Just added some precautions. I think your insight will please him. I promise this won't happen again.
   - I suppose it was no coincidence that we got to the fort at the same time as the Coalition detachment? Imperial intelligence was stirred up when they learned about the enemy's intention to send an expedition, right?
   The old man silently drank from his glass. He nodded.
   - What about payment? - Valria raised one eyebrow. Carlon always envied her this ability - he himself did not know how to do this.
   - I cannot estimate what one percent of the information you obtained in gold is, but I am authorized to pay you twenty crowns, regardless of the outcome of the case. - Mr. Sandr put a pleasantly clinking bag on the table. - It's not a treasure, of course...
   - But it suits us. - The elf pushed her wallet towards her. - Carlon, pass the papers to Mr. Sandr.
   The master moved a tightly stuffed bag towards the customer with his foot, put on the table a piece of paper with symbols copied from the black stone arch. The customer took a quick look at the sheet, hid it in his bosom. He asked, looking into the magician's face:
   - And what do you think of your find, master?
   - I think that this is not a matter of my rank, - Carlon replied, holding his gaze. - As you remember, I'm just a combat mage practitioner. And then there are some subtle things.
   - Well. - The old man shrugged. - Ladies, master, you did a good job. I do not want to deceive you - this whole thing can have consequences. Perhaps I will contact you more than once. Of course, the pay will be decent, and for cases that lady Valria deems unacceptable, we will look for other performers. For now, I must say goodbye.
   - Wait. - The elf raised her hand. - I would like to ask you for a small favor.
   - Yes?
   Valria leaned against the edge of the table and smiled charmingly.
   - You, I see, an influential person with useful connections. Could you help me sell a dozen horses for a better price?...
  
  
   Part 2. Someone who doesn't belong here.
   Chapter 5
   Autumn crept silently towards Elvart Duchy, preparing to plunge its claws into it. The sky over the capital was still summer-blue, but from the north the city was already surrounded by leaden clouds, ready to move at any moment, obscure the sun, and rain down. An hour before noon, master Carlon was found by a boy he knew from Crooked Flower Street and told him that Valria asked him to come at a convenient time. Several of these children were with the elf on a candy salary as spies and messengers. With children, the captain of the "Bright Heads" generally got along better than with adults, probably due to the closeness of the characters. The magician planned to devote the afternoon to making simple potions for sale, but this could be postponed until the evening. Therefore, he left the guest house as soon as he had dined. He walked, enjoying the last summer warmth, although the path was not close. Valria was waiting for him in the suburbs, where she rented a cozy house with a garden. The golden-haired elf moved to this house every time she had money. Then (usually after a week or two) the money ran out, and she moved back to the cheap rented rooms of some tavern, where she lived most of the time. The hostess, an elderly widow, was already used to it, and even allowed the girl to constantly keep some belongings in the house.
   Having reached the place, Carlon walked past young apple trees along a gravel path, went to the stone porch, was about to knock, but the door swung open earlier. Of course, the elf heard his steps from the gate.
   - Come in, come in. - Valria stepped back, letting the mage inside. - Take off your shoes.
   Leaving his boots in a tiny hallway, the master followed the elf into the only living room. The place already looked inhabited. A round table near the wall was adorned with a wooden bowl of peppered croutons, half empty. Above the table hung an oil-painted portrait of a red-haired cat from the front, Valria's pet, who died of old age before Carlon was born. The neatly made double bed was littered with a dark brown leather breastplate, the only piece of armor the captain rarely wore. The breastplate looked brand new, without signs of repair, even without scratches - which spoke in favor of the luck and dexterity of its owner.
   - With Mr. Sandr's money, I paid off all my debts! - the girl joyfully informed the master, while he was putting on felt slippers. - In general, everything, to the coin! I don't owe anyone anything.
   - It won't be long, - the mage assured.
   - And there's more, - Valria continued, as if she hadn't heard him. - I paid the rent of the house for two months in advance and bought a new suit. Does it suit me?
   The girl went to the middle of the room, spread her arms, allowing herself to be examined. Carlon stared at her for a few seconds. The elf was dressed as usual. Except that the blouse seemed a little whiter, the waistcoat a little greener, the buttons shone a little brighter with gold. Finally, it came to him. All of Valria's clothes were indeed new. Exactly the same as the old one, but new.
   - Uh... - he drawled, standing at the threshold. - I thought the word "new" implies some changes...
   - I have an external image. - The girl raised her finger pointedly. - I've been making it for years. From shoes to hair. Why change something? A mercenary is a commodity that sells itself, and the image is very important.
   - Okay, I don't argue, - the magician chuckled. He actually always liked the look of the captain. - But let me guess... Have you run out of money yet?
   - Yes, - the girl replied simply. She sat down at the table, gesturing for the magician to join. She took a cracker from a bowl. - I also bought a blanket for Snowflake, warm. Winter is coming soon. I also changed her horseshoes. Stock up on arrows.
   - Did you pay for the rent on your own? - the master clarified, sitting down on a stool without a back. He did not touch the crackers, suspecting that this was the last food left for the empty-headed elf.
   - Who should have? - Valria arched her golden eyebrow gracefully.
   - You and Dallan live together. - The mage nodded towards the double bed. - She could...
   - Her money is her money, - the elf replied. - I rent the house, so I pay. You yourself squandered your entire salary, I suppose?
   - Of course. - Carlon grinned. - But I put something into it. Look.
   The master stood up and moved away from the table. He raised his hands, showing four silver rings - one each on the middle and ring fingers. He clapped his hands so that the rings hit each other, jerked his hands apart. Between the palms of the magician, an almost transparent plane appeared - a rectangular one, resembling a door leaf in dimensions.
   - Power shield? - Valria asked, not without curiosity, tilting her head to her shoulder. - I remember seeing them in the war, only bigger...
   - Yeah. - Carlon blinked, warding off undue surprise. He once again forgot for a moment that the elf only looks like a young girl, and during the war years she was not a child, but served as an army jaeger. - This one won't stop a cannonball, but a bullet or an arrow will. Here, throw something at me.
   Valria pulled a copper coin out of her vest pocket with two fingers, flicked it flying. The coin whistled up, hit the ceiling beam and ricocheted, hitting Carlon right on the top of the head, passing over the top edge of the shield.
   - Crap!
   - Wait... - the elf frowned artificially. - Or did you want me to throw it at the shield? Did you say throw it at you?
   - Okay, it's my own fault. - The master laughed shortly, brought his palms together. The transparent "sash" has disappeared. - I will have a lesson...
   He returned to the table, resting his elbows on it:
   - Showed off in front of each other, and that's enough. You didn't just call me for no reason. Are you up to something again?
   - A trifling business. - The captain shrugged. - Contract for one day. They pay a little, but problems are not expected.
   - And why do you need a magician, if it's trifling? - Carlon frowned.
   - No reason. - Valria sighed. - Just need a second person. Dallan is on vacation.
   - What? - Carlon couldn't believe his ears.
   - Yes. Asked for the first time in six years. How could I refuse her? - The girl spread her hands. - Said she wanted to hunt. She left for Hordburk, where the forests are free. She promised to get a deer. I don't think it will. The huntress from her is like a reiter from me.
   The elf spoke the last phrases slowly, in a low voice. There was no trace of her high spirits. Carlon narrowed his eyes again.
   - She just left and you miss her already?
   - I'm surprised myself. - Valria rubbed her cheek with thin fingers. - You know, elves rarely have more than one or two children in a family, that's why there are so few of us. I never had a sister, and Dallan... probably became one for me. Even more than a sister. I... until yesterday, I myself did not understand how much I became attached to her. Couldn't sleep at night. I'm used to hearing her breathing in my sleep next to me... All these years...
   Carlon, not expecting such an emotional response, was silent. The elf smiled sadly.
   - Sorry, I had to talk to someone. And who but you?
   The master looked expressively at the portrait of the ginger cat. Valria followed his gaze, frowning.
   - Yes, I understand ... But do you know what the advantage of working as a mercenary is? I have every chance not to live my elven eight hundred years, and to die before my human friends.
   - I would even say that these chances are very good. - The mage decided it was time to change the subject. - With your way of picking contracts... so what's the deal for the day?
   - First of all, what do you know about Ludria? - Still a little frowning, the elfess crunched a cracker.
   - Well... - the master rolled his eyes, scratched his beard. - A continent across the ocean, the Republicans discovered in the last century... Savages, damp forests, poisonous reptiles... Unstable magical background, problems with portals...
   - So, - Valria interrupted, - the Empire has a couple of colonies on the Ludrian coast. The other day, a ship entered the port of the capital, returning just from there. The governor of one of the settlements, baron Vasily Tarakatos, arrived. He brought with him a mountain of curiosities. From golden savage idols to human-sized bipedal lizards. He will take all this to the emperor, he wants to ask him for a fleet and troops to conquer the forest barbarians. Well, to throw the Republicans off the coast. First, however, the baron requested an audience with our duke. He wants to bring gifts to him, and then ask for help with money and ships.
   - So what?
   - So... I found the baron and convinced him to hire me as a bodyguard. - A truly angelic smile appeared on the lips of the elf. - Exactly one day. It was not easy, but I proved that it would be more appropriate to come to the duke accompanied by an elegantly dressed beautiful elf than in the company of an unshaven boatswain.
   - I see, - said Carlon. - I suppose if the baron didn't agree, you yourself would pay him extra for such an opportunity?
   - No. - The girl shook her chin. She straightened a strand of hair that had fallen on her forehead. - I have nothing to pay. But the main thing you understood. I cannot miss such an event. However, I promised the client two guards. I did not know then that Dallan would leave.
   - Basically, I don't mind. - The master drummed his fingers on the table top. - Only here the client will not be indignant? He was promised a ceremonial escort of two beautiful warriors, and instead of the second beauty, a bearded man would appear.
   - A bearded, pot-bellied man, - the elf clarified. She recoiled as the mage leaned across the table and tried to grab her by the ear. - I didn't tell him anything about the identity of the second bodyguard, so you can do it too. And in general, a battle mage in protection is a serious matter. What is there to complain about?
   - Well, then I'm in business. - Without reaching for the sharp ears of the girl, Carlon flopped back into the seat. - How much pay?
   Valria named the amount. The magician covered his eyes with his hand. After a heavy sigh he said:
   - Listen... if you don't have enough for food - come to me, I'll pay for the dinners.
   - You said. I remembered. - The girl stood up and shook her hair. - Okay, get up, let's go.
   - Now? Where?
   - Where? Are you still asking? In the city baths, of course! - Valria took her long leather gloves from the windowsill and began to put them on. - And then to the barber. We will destroy strategic reserves of bread crumbs in your beard. I will pay.
   - You've run out of money. - The master snorted skeptically. Of course, he intended to pay for his bath from his own wallet.
   - I'll borrow on the way, from someone, - the elf waved her off. - For the sake of such a thing, it's not a pity to spend money...
  
   Chapter 6
   They were almost late for a meeting with a client. It turned out that since early morning in the port of Elvart, a regiment of imperial infantry was unloaded, sent to strengthen the border. Many streets were blocked to clear the way for troops and baggage. Marching hundreds filed through the city, singing in unison "As the Angels Soar," a soldier's ditty so old that anyone involved in the military knew it. After a fair amount of winding through the alleys, having spent a lot of time at the crossroads, the magician and the elf finally reached the hotel, which was completely rented by Baron Tarakatos. Valria introduced the master to the employer, who measured Carlon with a glance and, apparently, was quite pleased.
   - You, at least, look like a magician, - the girl whispered to the master, when the baron moved away to give instructions to the loaders. - Beard, belly, red eyes... Not enough hat. Such, spiky, like the Archchancellor's.
   - The Archchancellor wears that hat because there's a flask of booze hidden inside it, - Carlon snorted. He himself learned the basics of magic in one of the military schools, and did not see the Archchancellor, but the habits of the head of the Imperial University were widely known. - You would also offer me to put on a mantle, with moons and stars.
   The master tugged at the sleeves of his black-and-silver doublet -- terribly old-fashioned, frayed at the elbows, but handsome enough. All the same, there was nothing more decent in the wardrobe of a magician. Valria did without a formal dress, she looked great in her usual suit. True, the captain changed her thick leather gloves to thin suede ones, with a black floral pattern embroidered on spacious gaiters. A sword hung on the elf's hip, serving more as a decoration - anyway, before the audience, any weapon had to be handed over. For the same reason, Carlon did not take anything with him, not even amulets. There will be less fuss during inspection.
   They advanced to the palace in a small caravan of two wagons and a dozen horsemen. One of the carts carried a cage with a two-legged lizard brought from across the sea. The lizard sat on the floor and showed no signs of life, but it still attracted attention. The baron's people had to wave their whips away from the carts of overly curious townspeople, especially children. Valria, who was riding stirrup in stirrup with Carlon, now and then looked gloomily at the cage. Finally, leaning towards the magician, she said quietly:
   - It's not an animal.
   - In what sense? - the master also looked at the cart with the lizard. The prisoner raised his head and their eyes met. The creature's round eyes were glassy, like those of a doll, and expressed nothing.
   - In the sense that it's not a beast, - the elf repeated. - He's like me. Understand? Not human, but... human.
   - Where did you get it from? - Carlon could not stand it, looked away first. Lizard immediately lowered his head, again became indifferent.
   - That's noticeable. - Valria shrugged. - I don't know how you can't see it. He is a human. Just...different.
   The girl looked unusually confused, bewildered. Carlon seemed to understand her feelings. The magician said carefully:
   - You're not going to let him out, are you?
   - Of course not. But... it would be wrong if he was sent to the zoo.
   - Let's think about it later, okay?
   - Okay, I convinced you. - The captain sighed. The rest of the way she was silent - and this, oddly enough, did not please Carlon.
   The ducal palace of Elvart was built back in the days of the old empire, as the residence of the imperial governor. Which, of course, affected the architecture and scale - white marble, arches, high domes, round towers, an abundance of stained-glass windows. The complex of buildings, surrounded not by a wall, but only by a forged lattice, included the palace itself, the temple of the One Creator, an ancient theater, a rectangular square with fountains, many outbuildings, from the guardhouse and stables to baths and an observatory. It was not possible to defend all this; in wartime, the ruling family moved to a castle specially built south of the capital. But the city residence looked incredible. Greatness, frozen in white stone - other, less banal words Carlon did not come to mind.
   Behind the fence, the group split up. Most of the gifts, including the cage with the lizard, were sent somewhere deep into the palace. The baron's men stayed with the wagons. Then Governor Tarakatos set off, accompanied only by Carlon, Valria, and a couple of servants. The servants carried on silver trays covered with cloth those gifts that the governor of the overseas colony planned to present to the duke personally. A detachment of twelve palace guards met the guests at the gate, led them through the square and the corridors of the residence. On marble stairs and carpeted passages they climbed to the very roof of the palace complex, to the carved double doors. An officer in a gilded breastplate, who was waiting near the doors, stepped towards them and held out his hand. Having accepted the swords of the Baron and Valria, he also silently bowed and stepped aside. Two of his subordinates opened the doors, and the guests finally entered the throne room, leaving their escorts outside.
   The ensuing ceremonial bows Carlon performed, repeating after Valria - the captain knew the etiquette decently. Fortunately, for the military, the rules of etiquette were common, and the combat magician was equated in status with an officer. Having made all the necessary bows, getting down on one knee and rising again with the permission of the duke, the master looked around not without interest, trying not to turn his head too obviously. The oblong throne room was illuminated by two rows of arched stained-glass windows. Guards and servants lined up along the walls through one. At the far end of the hall, His Highness the Duke of Elvart, Gustav the Seventh, sat on a simple, low throne. He was a lean, bald man who looked younger than his fifty years. Carlon remembered that during the war the duke personally led plate cavalry to attack, and was even wounded by a bullet in the thigh, although by luck he did not go limp. Behind him were two men. The master knew the stately, gray-bearded old man in a white caftan - he was Magister Friedrich, the archmage, adviser and personal doctor of the ruling family. Carlon was much more interested in the second - a heavy bearded man in silver armor. He could not be anything but a ducal guard. In Elvart, as in the Empire, the personal guard of the ruler was formed in a very complicated way. When the heir to the throne was three years old, fifty orphans of the same sex and age were selected throughout the country. In subsequent years, they grew up with the heir, passing through the strictest selection and the most difficult training. Too weak, too stupid, too self-willed, too proud, simply not converging in character with the heir, left the palace. When the heir came of age, the rest took an oath of allegiance to him and became guardsmen. The future ruler received a small, but well-trained and fanatically loyal group of bodyguards who could both protect him personally and lead other guards. This system sometimes failed, but still, in the eyes of those around them, the guardsmen remained very unusual people. In fact, they were the embodied will of the crown bearer - after all, they, in theory, did not have their own desires and interests. Now Gustav the Seventh had only three guardsmen left - some of the guards died on the fields of the last war, others were not spared by age. His daughter and heiress, Princess Christina, was guarded by eight girls who had already taken an oath several years ago.
   - And now, Your Highness, with permission, I would like to present the trophies obtained by my soldiers in the settlements of the Ludrian savages. - It was evident that Baron Tarakatos had lost the habit of court ceremonies, and was burdened by them no less than Carlon. Barely waiting for permission, he gestured for the servants. They stepped forward, pulled the cloth off the trays. Kneeling down, they put the trays in front of them. Gold glittered on silver. About a dozen fine gold jewelry - necklaces, rings, pendants. Golden figurine of a man with diamond eyes. Several bone figurines of animals, as if intertwined with gold wire.
   - And this is the work of savages? - the duke asked with more curiosity than doubt. - I've heard rumors that they're skilled with gold, but I didn't think they were that good.
   - It is true, your highness, - the baron bowed his head. - Forest barbarians don't know how to forge iron, they wear skins and make weapons out of stone. But their craftsmen process the precious metal no worse than the imperial goldsmiths. Some tribal leaders told me that this art was taught to them by a mysterious people living in the depths of the mainland, in cities where even the walls of houses are covered with gold plates.
   - I suppose you wished to verify their words, Baron? - Gustav waved his hand with a smile. Two young pages took the trays from the servants of Tarakatos, brought them to the throne.
   - Alas, now it is impossible - said the governor, without raising his head. - It takes an entire army, well-equipped and trained, to pass through the damp forests of Ludria. I hope to receive it from the emperor. In addition, our settlements on the offshore islands are constantly threatened by Coalition ships. If a...
   The baron failed to reach an agreement. There was a sound that Carlon did not expect to hear in the throne room of the ducal palace. The sound of breaking glass. A round hole had formed in one of the stained-glass windows to the left of the magician. A small cylinder that flew into it fell exactly in the middle of the hall. And exploded. A white flash hit the master's eyes, a deafening thunder screwed right into his ears... And then it became quiet and dark.
   The life path of a combat mage includes a lot of not very pleasant things. No experienced soldier experiences as many different painful sensations as a magician, even if he has never been injured. Simply put, Carlon already had a wealth of experience with shell shock, temporary blindness and partial deafness. Feelings began to return quickly enough. First, the master realized that he was lying on the carpet, and the pile was digging into his cheek. Then he saw this carpet - red, with yellow stripes. Iridescent halos flashed before his eyes, but in general, vision worked. In the ears, the silence was replaced by a ringing, but the master decided that for now, his vision would be enough. With a groan, he got up on all fours and sat down. He slowly moved his head left and right - for some reason it turned out to be easier to move his head than his eyes. Guards, servants, guests were lying side by side around... Only one person was on his feet. Which was not in the throne room before the explosion. A tall man in a gray suit streaked with black, wearing a woven mask with slits for the eyes. With a confident step, as if in no hurry, he approached the throne, on which the duke was limp. Carlon opened his mouth to shout, to divert the stranger's attention to himself - but he did not hear his own voice. The masked man approached Gustav VIII, took out a wide dagger with a blued blade from the sheath on his belt, hit the ruler in the neck. With three skillful blows, he separated the head from the body, threw it to the floor. With the same quick, but not hasty step, he went to the broken window, through which, obviously, he got inside. Carlon noticed movement behind the throne. Magister Friedrich rose to his knees, shouted something, silently gaping his mouth, threw both hands forward. The killer was enveloped in a translucent cocoon - the archmage only by an effort of will, without the help of a magic item, created a powerful protective field around him. The masked man paused for a second. And then he took a step and just walked out of the transparent prison, as if it had never existed. Glancing over his shoulder, he threw the dagger exactly at the master's throat. Jumped up on the windowsill. He grabbed onto something, probably a very thin rope. And slid down.
   Carlon's ears popped, hearing returned to him - although the ringing did not disappear. The people around also came to their senses. The Duke's Guard was the first to stand up, staggering over to the headless corpse on the throne, falling to his knees in front of him. The guards and pages, rising, also hastened to the body of the duke, one by one. Carlon did not join them. Instead, he rushed over to Valria, stretched out on the floor to her full height. The golden-haired elf did not moan, did not try to get up. She lay on her back perfectly still, her wide violet eyes staring blindly at the ceiling. Squatting next to her on his haunches, the master raised his hand to the girl's half-open lips. He felt the faint warmth of her breath and calmed down a little. Elven hearing is much finer than human hearing. The explosion, which deprived people of consciousness, could have killed the elf. Or cripple - but the magician did not notice that blood was flowing from Valria's ears. Of course, until she came to her senses, it's too early to rejoice, but it seems that everything went without injuries. Carlon closed the girl's eyes, wincing inwardly - before he had only done this with the dead. Whispered:
   - Don't you dare die. You still owe money for the bath.
   The high doors opened and the throne room filled with soldiers in a blink of an eye. The guards, armed with short halberds, took the mage and the elf into the ring - as, indeed, Baron Tarakatos and his servants. Carlon looked around at them with a wry, helpless grin, asked:
   - Can I first call the doctor, and then go to the dungeon?...
  
   Chapter 7
   It didn't get to the dungeon. The visitors of the ill-fated audience were divided. Valria was taken somewhere on a stretcher, while Carlon was locked in a room with a single barred window, the decoration of which looked more like a rich living room than a prison cell. There the master languished in ignorance for two hours, until a modestly dressed official visited him. The official did not introduce himself, but his indifferent eyes and confident demeanor indicated that he was an interrogating officer of the secret police. Professionally shaking out of Carlon everything that he saw during the attack on the throne room, the official left. However, after a couple of minutes, the heavy oak door swung open again. Holding her hand on the scabbard of her sword, a very tall, fit girl in a blue uniform and silver armor of the ducal guard crossed the threshold. Looking at her swarthy skin, face with high sharp cheekbones, short jet-black hair and transparent yellow, lynx-like eyes, Carlon was ready to bet that this was a countrywoman in front of him. How did she get carried from the southern steppes to the other end of the mainland, and even in early childhood?
   - Master Carlon. - The girl gave the magician a rather unfriendly look. Her yellow eyes made her look truly frightening - the master felt a chill in his chest. - Follow me.
   The sentries guarding the luxurious chamber remained at their post - the black-haired warrior was the only accompanying master. Carlon wasn't sure what that meant. Either he was already trusted, or one princess guard was enough to stop an escape attempt, even made by an experienced battle mage. The master leaned towards the first option - the black-haired woman simply walked in front, although holding her palm on the sword, but calmly exposing her defenseless back and the back of her head to him. Carlon noted to himself that the female guards using lighter armor - instead of full armor, his companion wore only a light cuirass with smooth shoulder pads and steel gloves with elbow-length bracers. However, Carlon knew that it was possible to supplement the armor with leg protection quickly.
   Their path was short and ended at an unremarkable door. The girl with lynx eyes opened it, pushed the magician inside, slammed the shutter behind him, remaining in the corridor. The first feeling that the master experienced was relief. The room he was shoved into turned out to be the guest bedroom, and he saw Valria on the comfortable, soft bed. The elf, covered with a white blanket to the waist, was half-sitting, slipping a pillow under her back, and talking about something... with Princess Christina, who was sitting in an armchair near the bed. At the sight of the heir to the throne, the magician froze. Then he hastily bowed from the waist:
   - Your Highness! My condolences...
   He wasn't sure if the bow was the right one in such a situation, but the princess just smiled sadly at him:
   - Thanks to. I would like to say "good afternoon" to you, venerable master, but alas, the day is not at all good. Sit down.
   She pointed to an empty chair at the head of the bed. Carlon obediently sat down. He stared at the princess, but then he caught himself, turned his gaze to Valria.
   - Her ladyship and I have agreed on something here, - the captain told him, deliberately raising her voice.
   - Don't joke, Lady Valria, - the princess scolded her. - My personal healer assured me that he got your ears in perfect order.
   There was hidden metal in this soft request, and the elf obeyed instantly. She explained in a different tone:
   - I convinced her ladyship that I could be of service to her. And I signed up for something. I would very much like to sign you, but, of course, only with your consent.
   - Let me guess. - The master looked up at Christina. The princess had recently turned twenty-four, but Carlon would have lied, calling the girl beautiful. She was too much like her father - square features, a massive jaw, a large nose. But in it, without a doubt, willpower was felt.
   - You guessed it, you guessed it. - Valria interrupted him, fiddling with the edge of the blanket with her fingers. - I want to find this bastard.
   - And I allowed the captain to participate in the investigation, - the princess nodded. - Lady Valria and I have never had anything in common before, but we have long had... shall we say, common acquaintances. This... general acquaintance allows me to rate the captain's reliability very highly. The whole secret police will search for the father's killer, and we will turn to the Empire for help. However, I will be glad if a person whom I personally absolutely trust is involved in the investigation. Alas, in the palace of these - only my guardsmen. They are nice girls, one and all, and would not hesitate to die for me, but they understand only the organization of protection. Lady Valria has experience with this sort of thing. And she spoke positively about you. Will you help her with the investigation?
   - Your Grace, I cannot refuse. - Carlon rose to bow again. He really couldn't refuse. A polite request from such an important person is tantamount to an order.
   - Please accept my thanks. - Christina got up. - All the necessary information will be provided to you, as well as admission to the palace. And, of course, your time will be paid in gold. However, if you want some other reward...
   - Watermelon, - Valria said shortly.
   - Watermelon? - The princess raised her eyebrows.
   - If I catch the killer before the secret police, you will give me a watermelon. - The elf wiggled her pointed ears. - I don't remember the last time I ate it, and I have no doubt that it would be easy for the ducal court to bring fresh watermelon to Elvart from the south. As for the gold, I will report on the expenses for the time of work. I don't need more.
   - So be it. - The heir to the throne smiled less sadly and left, leaving them alone.
   - Watermelon, - Carlon repeated.
   - Well, I decided that it is more important to earn a good attitude of our future ruler than to squeeze a couple of extra coins out of her, - the elf girl shrugged.
   - In this manner? And why did you fit into a deliberately hopeless case? The killer is probably already flashing his heels on the other side of no man's land.
   - I do not think so. - The girl shook her head, twisted a long golden strand around her finger. - You see, the princess and I agreed that this was no ordinary political assassination. The borderlands are restless, the Empire moves troops without explaining anything to the vassals. The Coalition stirred. Something is planned, and the assassination attempt on the head of one of the strongest vassal states of the Empire is just in time. Christina is the only direct heiress. If the killer manages to get Christina as well, chaos will begin.
   - But now? - the mage frowned. - Christina will be guarded with special care ...
   - Only those who are really faithful to her, and there are not very many of them. - The elf's face became serious. She let go of the strand, folded her hands on the blanket, leaned back. - It is best to fish in muddy waters. Besides, her ladyship couldn't lock herself in her chambers right now. She has a number of public actions ahead of her. The funeral of her father, the coronation, a trip to the imperial capital to bring homage... She is vulnerable, no matter how the police and guards comb the city. Especially in front of a killer whose abilities are... unusual.
   - He passed through the magical barrier as if through an empty space...
   - That's it, - Valria agreed. - There is something to think about. Moreover, in case of failure, no one will ask us. Although, of course, I want watermelon, and strongly.
   They were silent for a while, each thinking about his own, then the elf asked uncertainly:
   - Carlon... hold my shoulders, okay?
   She sat up, swinging her bare feet off the bed, and immediately staggered. The magician supported the girl, asked, not hiding his concern:
   - Did the doctor say you're okay?
   - My ears are okay, - the elf answered with annoyance. - But the head is not very good. It cannot be cured with magic or herbs. Tomorrow I'll be back to normal, but not before. For now, just... help.
   The girl put on her boots, put on gloves, a hat with a disheveled white feather. She got up, held by Carlon's elbow.
   - My legs do not tremble, I just sometimes confuse the floor and the ceiling. - Valria sighed as she took a step towards the door.
   A familiar girl-guardsman was waiting for them outside the threshold. Her lynx eyes flashing, she bowed her head for a moment.
   - I am Lady Yana. Her ladyship ordered me to help you. Now I will accompany you. If you need to return to the palace or speak with the princess, just tell the guards to call me.
   The coldness of the guardsman did not disappear anywhere, but now she was emphatically polite. Noticing the state of Valria, she offered her hand, but the elf replied with a charming smile that "her heart is already occupied by another woman." Carlon deliberately let the captain stumble, nearly knocking her down the stairs, and they reached the gate in complete silence. Valria pouted like a child, and Lady Yana walked ahead without even looking back. Having received the elf's sword and some papers from the secret police in the guardhouse, they said goodbye to Yana. They went home on foot, leading the horses by the bridle. Valria walked very slowly, hugging the magician by the shoulders, practically hanging on him. It was rather pleasant for Carlon - the girl seemed weightless, and her hair smelled of floral perfume. The captain herself, however, was not happy. Halfway through she said plaintively:
   - You could take me in your arms, barbarian. I don't weigh that much.
   - I still don't understand... - the magician said slowly, not even glancing at her. - How do you try to present yourself in the eyes of others? As a fragile graceful lady, or as a stern, fearless warrior?
   - Like a fragile graceful warrior. - Valria snorted. - The stern, fearless lady is Dallan.
   The elf and the magician reached the house with the garden without incident. Dinner was long past, so after putting the captain to bed and thrusting a bowl of half-eaten crackers into her hands, Carlon jogged off to the market. Unfortunately, the shops selling ready-made food have already closed. Except for one, but a middle-aged elf traded there, and the master never bought anything from the elves. Not out of any prejudice, he just didn't want to get involved with hucksters with hundreds of years of experience swindling customers. He had to make an order in a tavern. Returning with a pot of hot porridge in his hands, Carlon found the girl talking with a thin old man in black clothes.
   - You can be left for a quarter of an hour, huh?! - The master angrily slammed the pot on the table, only after that he welcomed the guest. - Hello, Mr. Sandr.
   The Imperial intelligence resident in Elvart responded with a grin and a nod.
   - Do not swear at the girl, master. I came here myself. You are the first witnesses to the murder released from custody, and I needed to know something. This is faster than me making my way into the palace through all the bureaucracy, and I would not want to appear there once again. And now I see that you can use my assistance.
   - Valria has already told about the princess's request.
   Mister Sandr nodded once more.
   - And I can only approve of the captain's initiative. Her Ladyship... although I guess it's safe to say "Her Highness"... Well, Her Highness Christina asked you to look for the killer. And I ask you to protect the princess. Not directly, for this there is a guard. But if you sit on the killer's tail, it will be more difficult for him to prepare an assassination attempt.
   - Why we, and not... you? Or the duchy's police? - Carlon sat down on a stool.
   - Because this case is connected with the past, in which you participated. - The old man explained. - And because of its secrecy, the fewer people involved in the details, the better.
   - The past case... with the portal in the dead fortress? - The magician tensed up.
   - Yes. - Sandr nodded. - I'm going to fill you in on the details that only a few operatives in my department know.
   - Maybe you shouldn't do it?
   - Shut up. - Valria shushed the master. - Go on, Mr. Sandr.
   - The archmages of the Imperial University have analyzed the records you obtained in the fortress and the signs written off from the arch of the portal. - The resident put his fingertips together. - We have combined their findings with intelligence reports from the Iderling lands. And made some conclusions. We believe that during the war years, the Coalition conducted experiments on moving between parallel planes of reality. Are you aware of the multiple worlds theory?
   - Yes. - Carlon rubbed his chin. - If it is known for sure that our material plane of existence exists, and several ethereal ones outside it, where angels and demons come from, then theoretically it can be assumed that there is another material plane somewhere. Also inhabited by people, elves, some other intelligent species that we are not even able to imagine.
   -This is the kind of world the Coalition mages found. - Mister Sandr looked at him over his clasped fingers. - A human-inhabited world with laws of nature somewhat different from ours. At first they only watched him, then tried to establish contact. Each such attempt ended in disaster. In the fortress where you were, and in several other places. There has been no progress whatsoever. A year ago, the king of the Iderling dynasty imposed a personal ban on further research in this area. But... at the same time, during the last attempt, the magicians achieved little success. They dragged a man into our world... from the other side. As far as I understand, not random.
   - Killer, - Carlon breathed.
   - Most likely, though we can't know for sure. We greatly appreciate our agents at the top of the kingdom, and after receiving the first information, we ordered them to lay low. But here's what we've found out. There is no magic in that other world. Generally. But there are more developed technologies, including weapons.
   - Yeah-ah... - The master pulled his beard, captured by the idea that came to mind. - If there is no magic as a phenomenon in that world... that person from there can be... like, a part of that reality. In our world, there is no magic for him either... I don't know how to express it more clearly...
   - Archmages spoke about the same. - Mr. Sandr noted with approval in his voice. - And you said that you are far from theory... In general, we are dealing with a hired killer from another world. Who possesses martial skills unknown to us, unknown techniques, who can pass through magical barriers and alarms, who is elusive to sympathetic spells, and perhaps invulnerable to combat spells. To the confrontation with which the entire system of protection and search, both Elvart and the Empire, are completely unprepared.
   - And who I know how to find. - Valria smiled broadly. - Assuming he's still in the capital...
  
   Chapter 8
   Mr. Sandr left them in a very gloomy mood. The elf flatly refused to share her plans with him, only teasing him with a couple of vague hints. When the imperial resident left, she asked Carlon:
   - Walk the streets. If you see any of my guys, tell them to find the rest. Let them gather in my yard.
   The magician completed the assignment quickly - it was not difficult to stumble upon one of Valria's underage spies anywhere in the capital. Not that there were too many of them, just that they were always scurrying around the city blocks, from the port to the outer outposts. By sunset, a flock of two dozen boys and girls of all ages had gathered in the apple orchard in front of the house. The captain met them sitting on the porch. She asked Carlon to stay in the house, and the master watched from the window as the girl cheerfully greeted each newcomer. What she was talking to them about, the magician did not really hear, but he saw how the children surrounded Valria in a semicircle, listening to her words with all seriousness. However, the elf obviously ended her short speech with a joke, as the children suddenly rolled with laughter at once. Valria joined them. After laughing, she wiped away her tears with the hem of her glove, said something else that caused another explosion of children's laughter. She answered several questions asked by the older guys, hugged the fair-haired girl who approached her, patted her on the head with a gentle smile. Finally, she disbanded her young guard. She gestured that Carlon could leave.
   - Well, what was it? - the master chuckled, helping the elf to stand up - her legs still gave way. Or she was just faking it, the magician wouldn't vouch for it.
   - I asked them to patrol the city and watch people. And let me know if they see a stranger doing something weird.
   - Is that all? - They returned to the house, where Carlon put the girl on the bed. - Is this your whole plan? So you're going to track down the killer who outflanked the secret police and the palace guards?
   - Are you suggesting that I compete with Imperial Intelligence in its own field? - Valria grinned wryly, pulled off her gloves, grabbed her boots. - The city will be checked by the usual methods even without us. I want to use a tool that serious people neglect.
   - And you think it will do something? - Carlon sat down next to her on the edge of the bed.
   - I hope. Children have sharp eyes. Even human ones.
   - But what should they see? It's a port city on a trade route! Can you imagine how much... strange things are going on here?
   - And you forget that children are local. - The elfess poked the magician in the nose with a grin. Long and thin, the girl's finger was already covered with calluses from sword exercises. In recent years, Valria has been training with gloves. - Their notion of the strange is tailored to the local realities. They will understand when they see something really out of place.
   - Imperial spies have tight control over the borderlands, - Carlon remarked. - I'm ready to argue, all the agents of the Coalition are under their hood. If the murderer had been brought to Elvart by agents of the Iderlings, this would not have gone unnoticed. Surely he arrived himself, as a private individual with a reliable "legend". So, he has already got used to our world. According to Mr. Sandr, he had a whole year to do it.
   - I have been living among you, unwashed barbarians with short ears, for half a century. - Valria threw off her waistcoat, pulled a snow-white blouse over her head, under which was a thin undershirt. - And I'm still an elf.
   - Well, yes ... - the master chuckled. He stood up and turned away so as not to interfere with the girl to undress. - But the difference between elves and humans...
   - The difference between Imperials and Republicans is greater than between Elvartians and Elves, - Valria interrupted him, puffing and rustling her clothes. - A person from another world can pretend to be local, but he will not cease to be himself. Sooner or later he will give himself away. He will do something that will seem wrong precisely in the eyes of a simple city dweller.
   - If only earlier, not later. - Carlon sighed. - We are limited by the time before the first event where the princess will have to make a public appearance.
   - If we do not have time to sit on the killer's tail in time, then we will ask for an escort and we will guard her ladyship nearby, along with the guards, - the elf answered. After a pause for a second, she suddenly asked: - Carlon, maybe you will spend the night here?
   - Why? I'll come in the morning.
   - It's just... I didn't sleep last night... - Valria stuttered. - I'm not sure I'll sleep tonight. It turns out I'm completely out of the habit of being alone. Someone needs to be in the house. I'll make a bed for you on the rug, at the threshold.
   - Very tempting, - the master snorted skeptically, turning around. The girl had already climbed under the covers, leaving her clothes on the floor. Everything, including underwear.
   - Okay, I'm kidding. - The elf girl pulled the blanket off the second half of the bed. - We'll split the mattress equally.
   - Will Dallan challenge me to a duel later? - The magician raised his eyebrows.
   - First of all, we won't tell her. - Valria lifted herself up, and the blanket slipped away as if by chance, exposing much more than it should. Carlon, however, did not succumb to the provocation and continued to look the elf in the eye. - Secondly, Dallan is more than a sister to me. And here you are - the unlucky bearded brother who always runs away from the family, but always returns. No less, but no more. There are things that decent girls with brothers don't do. And Dallan knows it. And thirdly, she does not know how to be jealous at all. She has atrophied many human emotions since childhood.
   - You convinced me. - The master allowed himself to smirk. - Didn't she leave a spare sword at home? I would put it on the bed between us, like they do in chivalric novels.
   - In chivalric novels, they do a lot of stupid things. - Valria leaned back against the pillow, pulling the blanket over her chest. - They marry the first girl who was saved from the dragon, for example...
   The night passed quietly--for an elf. Blowing out the candle on the bedside table, Carlon almost immediately heard the girl's even breathing. The master himself did not fall asleep until the first roosters. Thoughts about the day's experiences swirled in his head, and the proximity to Valria did not allow him to relax. The magician did not suffer from a shortage of female society - he was considered in some way an honorary client of a couple of metropolitan establishments, where for the proper amount of silver one could satisfy all needs without risk to health. However, a naked elf sleeping peacefully literally at his side still caused some ... tension. Although less than he might have expected. Carlon caught himself on the fact that, perhaps, he also perceives Valria more like a stupid younger sister, even if this "sister" is three times his age.
   The magician met the dawn with a headache and pain in his eyes. With vengeful satisfaction, he pushed the elf aside, and under her dissatisfied grumbling, he got dressed. No food was found in the bins of the house, even crackers were eaten yesterday. Leaving Valria to wait for reports from her little scouts, Carlon moved to the market square. Buying tea leaves and hot bread straight from the oven, he asked a couple of questions to the merchants, listened to the chatter of the buyers, and thus significantly enriched the collection of rumors.
   - About the murder of the duke in the city they do not really know anything until now, - he said, returning. - But they are already confidently talking about the timing of the coronation. It seems that even in the morning they announced on the square, but I did not hear it myself. Coronation a week later, funeral right after. Usually they did the opposite, but it looks like the princess is in a hurry.
   - And her father's body is not so easy to bring to a decent form, yes. - The elf sighed, looking with interest at the master's purchases. - What did you bring me?
   - Not to you, but to us. Fire up the fireplace. I will brew real steppe tea in a pot.
   - With salt? the girl grimaced.
   - Well, almost real. Sugarless. And with milk. Cow. Horse milk is not sold.
   The first reports from underage spies began to arrive closer to dinner. Carlon's fears were partially justified - most of the "oddities" noticed by the children were outright nonsense. The port city was filled with foreigners from all over the world. People brought here their habits and traditions, sometimes quite exotic. But there was nothing really mysterious about them. In between reports, Valria, who had fully recovered from yesterday's injury, put her equipment in order, and the master read a book that he had brought from his rented room along with a weapon and a couple of amulets. When he finally decided that luck would not smile at them today, a boy knocked on the door, bringing really interesting news.
   - He smoked what? - Valria asked.
   - A paper tube! - the boy repeated with excited eyes. - Lisa accidentally saw when she was taking out dirty water from the kitchen. One of their guests went out into the backyard and smoked a paper pipe. She told her brother, he called me. I've been following this man all day. He walked around the city, doing nothing, just looking around. Then he bought two sheets of thin paper in a writing shop, and tobacco in the market. Probably, these tubes are made from them.
   - And he doesn't look rich? - said the master.
   - A rich man would not live in Liza's father's tavern, - the boy answered judiciously. - There are bed bugs and it stinks.
   - And the paper costs decently...too decently to be burned. - Carlon tugged at his beard and accidentally tore out his hair.
   - Perverts are different, - Valria drawled thoughtfully. - Maybe someone likes it when tobacco and paper are mixed. But such strange pleasures are usually for those who do not peck at gold. Okay, boy. Take us there.
   The tavern stood on a narrow crooked street far from the city center. Having bought some green apples, the magician and the elf took up a position at the back of a dark alley, from where a good view opened. Soon there they were joined by two more young scouts - a boy and a girl. Valria sent them away so as not to create an attention-grabbing crowd. Some time later, their guide pointed with his finger:
   - There he goes!
   - Well, how, learned man, do you know? - Valria tossed away the core of the last apple. - No one saw the killer better than you.
   - He was wearing a mask, - Carlon frowned. - But...
   Walking along the dirty street, a fair-haired man of about thirty, in build and height, looked exactly like the killer seen by the magician. What betrayed him most, however, was his gait, confident and swift, but not fussy. The face, of course, was completely unfamiliar to the master, but he would have called it pleasant. The man entered the inn carrying a heavily stuffed bag over his shoulder.
   - Where did he stay? - Valria asked the boy.
   - Corner room, east side, - he reported bravo.
   - With windows to the street, therefore, - the girl nodded, rubbing her chin. - I see ... The living rooms here are all on the second floor, am I right? And there are skylights in each one?
   - Yes.
   - Yes. - The elf looked at the mage. Her eyes burned with violet fire. - Let's get him now.
   - Are you crazy? - The master grabbed her by the shoulder. - Dallan isn't with us, and he's dangerous... I don't even know how much.
   - He's a killer, not a soldier. - The captain didn't even try to throw off Carlon's hand, she smiled reassuringly at him. - Besides, we'll take him by surprise. I bet my hat that he did not notice surveillance. It's pointless to call a city guard patrol here. He will smell them a mile away and run away. Although ... - the elf leaned towards the young guide:
   - You've done a good job, but there's more to come. Let the rest watch the inn, and you run to the ducal palace. Tell any guards that I have sent you and that you have an important message for Lady Yana of the princess's guard. A very beautiful girl with dark skin and eyes like an evil cat will come out, tell her everything and bring her here. Warn her not to take more than a few soldiers and not make a fuss. Run.
   - They won't make it here quickly, - said Carlon.
   - Well, okay. - Valria waved her hand. - Let's go.
   - Where? Are we waiting for Lady Yana?
   - Wait, but not here.
   The captain's idea turned out to be simple. They circled the inn in a wide arc, crossed the street, made their way to the backyard. The buildings here were almost all non-residential, two stories high, with flat roofs. The owner of one of the pottery workshops, succumbed to the spell of an elven smile, allowed Carlon and Valria to use a ladder to climb up. The houses lined up tightly, even Carlon had no problems getting from roof to roof, while the elf generally walked as if along a paved avenue. Soon they got to the tavern they needed. Its roof, surprisingly, turned out to be tiled - probably, once this place knew better times. They were comfortably seated on a gentle western slope, having the opportunity to observe both the street in front of the building and all the skylights. Instead of glass, the windows were covered with a translucent bullish bubble; the magician and the girl were not afraid to catch the eyes of the guests. It was getting dark, clouds were gathering over the city, and there were fewer and fewer passers-by. The master thought he noticed a very suspicious-looking figure in a hooded cloak, which looked out for a moment from a distant alley and retreated into the shadows again, but the magician did not see her again. Perhaps it was Mr. Sandr's man, or rather, judging by the clumsy disguise, someone from the ducal police.
   Half an hour later there was movement at the far end of the street. A tight group of five people approached almost at a run from the side of the palace. At the head of the group, a tall, dark-haired girl walked with a wide stride. Her polished cuirass gleamed in the last rays of the sun, a short blue cloak fluttering behind her shoulders. The girl turned to her companions, pointed with her hand in a silver plate glove to the tavern, and said something. The companions, clad in the armor of the palace guards, rushed forward, drawing their swords.
   - Oh, my God, how much noise... - Valria, watching from behind the ridge of the roof, breathed softly. - Even though I was hoping for it.
   As soon as the guards crashed into the main hall of the inn, one of the light windows flew open. Not what the mage and elf expected. The opposite, on the western side of the roof - on the sides of which they both pressed against the tiles. A familiar blond head appeared. Carlon realized that if the stranger gave himself a second to look around, he would inevitably see them both. Without delay, the master leaned forward, grabbed the man by the shoulders, pulled him towards himself, pulling him out of the window opening to the waist. The master tried to twist the opponent's elbows, poke his nose into the tiles - but he wriggled out of the grip. A moment - and the magician himself flew face forward, hit the roof with his whole body. He felt a blow to the stomach, another to the neck and suffocated. Hearing Valria's pained cry, he rolled onto his side. He saw how the girl, who had lost her crossbow and hat, stepped back from the killer, who had already jumped to her feet, and took up a hand-to-hand combat stance. She left the sword below, under the supervision of the owner of the pottery.
   - Wow, - the fair-haired man suddenly said in good Daert language, with an accent more like a small-town reprimand. - A real elf, just like in the game. I was told that you are here, but I have not seen before. And you're beautiful. Highly.
   - Thank you, - Valria replied in a tense tone, stopping backing away. She definitely didn't want to get too close to the edge of the roof. Without any warning, the blond-haired man charged forward. The girl fought off a swift blow to the face, but missed the hook and fell on her back, waving her arms awkwardly. The killer caught her in the fall, threw her forward, twisted the elf's right arm - just as Carlon himself was going to do with him. Holding Valria's elbow with one hand, the other grabbed her by the hair and pulled. The captain gritted her teeth, but did not cry out.
   - I dreamed about an elf even when I thought that you did not exist, you know, - the fair-haired man said, leaning towards the girl's ear. - Sorry, no time, but I remember you. My name is Peter, remember me too.
   He let go of Valria's hair and stroked her protruding ear with his fingers.
   Carlon watched them, not at all idle. The master was not going to attack the killer in hand-to-hand combat again, even with a cleaver. None of his amulets could help now. But, as a magician of the third stage, Carlon was able to put magic into objects himself. Of course, he could not create a real combat amulet right off the bat. But it didn't take much. Depicting a stunned one, the master picked up a piece of an old broken tile, clenched it in his fist. He cut his finger on the sharp edge, sprinkled the fragment with his blood. Even an average magician can energize his own blood, though this is detrimental to life force. When he had finished, Carlon raised himself on his elbow and threw the tile pumped with magic... behind the killer's back. Whispered the activation word. The tiles burst like a bomb with a burnt-out wick, showering the fair-haired man with clay buckshot. He gasped, swayed from the blows to the back and the back of the head. Valria released herself from her grasp with lightning speed, threw the killer off her back, and recoiled back. She stood in front of Carlon, shielding him with herself, again raised her clenched fists. The blond-haired man touched his ear cut by a fragment, saw blood on his fingers and... laughed.
   - Well done, - he said, not even looking in the direction of the girl and the magician. - Sorry, no time. See you again, elf. I promise we'll see you.
   Picking up the long leather case that had been on his shoulder at the beginning of the fight, the killer jumped to the neighboring roof, slid down the clay drainpipe and disappeared from view. Carlon sat up with a groan, holding his stomach. Valria turned around, leaned towards him, put a hand on his shoulder.
   - How are you?
   - Alive. And you?
   - Alive.
   From below came the crack of breaking wood, and a few moments later, Lady Yana climbed out of the skylight onto the roof. Her shiny black hair was covered in dust, and a sword gleamed in her hand.
   - He escaped ... yards! - squeezed out the master indicating the direction. - There!
   The guard girl gave him a short nod and jumped back into the room. Her unintelligible voice was heard - apparently, the yellow-eyed lady was giving orders to the guards.
   - If we waited for her... - Carlon began.
   - ... then he would have beaten three, - the elf finished for him. - Get up, learned barbarian, if you can. We need to examine the room where this guy lived. Then the guards won't let us in.
  
   Chapter 9
   The room abandoned by the murderer was guarded by a lone soldier of the palace guards. The others took off in pursuit with Lady Yana. The guard let the magician and the elf inside without question, but left the door open, watching the search from the corner of his eye. Carlon was still unable to properly bend over because of the pain in his stomach, so he limited himself to a professional conclusion - the room did not even smell of magic. Valria did the main work. She also got in a fight, but the girl came to her senses faster than the master. A cursory inspection at first did not bring any valuable results. The belongings abandoned by the fair-haired stranger during his flight turned out to be unremarkable. Except that two smoking paper pipes and several evenly cut strips of paper were found on the table - apparently blanks. The elf took the finished pipe with two fingers, sniffed it, sneezed. Noticing something under the table, she squatted down. She picked up a crumpled yellowish sheet, laid it on the table, smoothed it out. She chuckled without taking her eyes off the paper.
   - Interesting.
   Carlon looked over her shoulder. The sheet was drawn by hand with geometric shapes - squares, rectangles, circles. Two or three dotted lines stretched from each figure. Columns of numbers, signs, incomprehensible squiggles lined up near the figures and lines - either conventional symbols, or letters of a foreign alphabet.
   - So what's this? the master asked.
   - I thought you'd tell me.
   - Well... it's definitely not magic formulas. And not alchemical calculations.
   - And then I did not guess. - Valria snorted, brushing a strand out of her forehead from her bangs.
   Boots rumbled in the hallway. The elf hurriedly hid the paper in her pants pocket. Lady Yana entered, sweaty and disheveled, and said hoarsely:
   - Gone. I sent people to guard posts to seal off the area.
   - I don't think it'll help, - Valria sighed with rather feigned chagrin.
   - Me too. - The guardsman awarded the elf with her signature look, capable of freezing water in a jug. - You should have warned me of all the details of your plan.
   - I'm afraid so, - Carlon hastily answered, ahead of the elf. - We'll be more careful next time.
   - How did you know the killer was here?
   - I will give a written report by this evening, - Valria said unexpectedly seriously, holding the gaze of Yana's cold lynx eyes without the slightest embarrassment. - Carlon will add a description of the killer's appearance to it.
   - Thank you. - Despite the frankly defiant behavior of the elf, the black-haired girl bowed her head. - This will help us to search.
   - In that case, the master and I will leave for now. We need to make sense of today's results and count the bruises. - Valria folded her hands behind her back and smiled. - Lady, can I borrow a couple of silver coins from you? I will personally return it to you as soon as I get the chance.
   Lady Yana was silent for a long moment, then pulled the money out from under her belt and handed it to Valria.
   Already in the street Carlon shook his head:
   - She doesn't seem to trust us...
   - The guardsmen usually do not trust anyone except their overlord and each other, - the elf shrugged. - However, if the princess ordered her to believe in us, then she will believe as in herself. Don `t doubt.
   - Why do you need money?
   - Then we go to the baths.
   - We've just been there. - The magician raised his eyebrows in confusion.
   - Firstly, civilized beings generally wash themselves every day. Secondly, we need to steam off the bruises. Thirdly... I need to wash my whole body with soap. Urgently. - The girl suddenly shuddered, as if she had taken a sip of undiluted lemon juice. - He touched my ear! Touched my ear!
   - Well... uh... When we first met, I also touched your ear, actually, - reminded Carlon. - Before that, I had only seen elves from a distance.
   - But you asked me for permission! There is a huge difference...
   The captain turned out to be right about one thing - hot water and steam quickly put the master on his feet. He reached the house with the garden, no longer holding on to his back, and no longer groaning at every step. Helping the girl to prepare a quick dinner, the magician asked:
   - Aren't you going to use your spy network again? It is unlikely that our friend Peter guessed that the children figured him out.
   - Alas, my young watchmen sleep at night. - Valria shook her chin. - And until the morning the bastard will hide in some hole and will not show his nose from there until his time comes. He's not stupid either.
   - Then what are your plans next?
   - A new day brings new answers. - The elf scratched the ear that the killer had touched. She did this not for the first time in recent hours, as if her ear was itching. - You go to bed, and I will make a report to the employer. And think about this piece of paper.
   - Are you sure you don't need my help?
   - Of course I need it. But tomorrow at least one of us should be well-rested. - The girl pushed him on the shoulder. - Lie down, come on.
   The last sleepless night and daytime adventures exhausted the master to the point of impossibility, so he did not argue. In addition, it was affected by the fact that Carlon resorted to the help of blood magic. Acting in this way, the magician gives energy irrevocably - this part of the power will never return to him, just as spilled blood does not return to the body. Carlon spent only a couple of drops today, and it was enough for him to pass out, barely resting his head on the pillow. The last thing he saw as he fell asleep was Valria leaning over the papers on the table by the light of the oil lamp. The girl's face looked unusually serious.
   The master woke up early, from a strong smell. Opening his eyes, he found the elf in the same place, with a steaming mug in her hand. Only then did the magician recognize the smell - it was coffee, a vile taste, but an invigorating drink, popular in lands even south of his homeland. Valria always kept a handful of coffee beans in some kind of hiding place, spending very sparingly.
   - I think I have an idea, - she said, noticing that Carlon was awake.
   - Good morning to you too, - grumbled the magician, leaning over his pants. The elf seemed fresh and energetic, causing black envy in Carlon. If only he could endure sleepless nights at the age of one hundred and four!
   - Do you have a city map with you? - the girl asked, putting the mug on the table.
   - Of course not.
   - Neither do I. So get ready. Let's go to the palace.
   - Why?
   - I'll explain on the spot.
   Carlon flatly refused to drink the coffee offered by the captain. On the way, passing through the market square, he had to buy a piece of cake from the stall and drink a glass of strong brewed tea there. Having reached the palace, the master and the elf circled it three times, which was not an easy task, given the size of the complex. Finally, they stopped in front of the main gate, from where they began their first round. Under the stern gaze of the wary sentries, the girl struck her palm with her fist and declared:
   - Now everything is clear.
   - It's not clear to me, - the panting magician croaked, catching his breath. Valria paused, as usual, savoring the moment. She waited for exactly the moment when the master was ready to grab her by the collar in order to shake her properly, and only then she took out a piece of paper found in the tavern from her pocket:
   - It's a shooter's map.
   - That is?
   - The circles and squares in the picture are the buildings around the palace, - the elfess explained, almost purring with pleasure. She made no secret of how proud she was of herself. - Dotted lines - shooting lines. The numbers are distances, angles, maybe some other calculations. The killer chose a point from which he could shoot at the princess when she appeared on the palace square. Remember the long pouch he slipped out with? I'm ready to argue, there is a gun or something like that.
   - But why did he throw away the map?
   - Because the map will not be useful to him. - The girl raised her finger. - There are no convenient positions around the palace, all the buildings are too low, and the palace itself is on a hill. Even with some long-range miracle gun from another world, the palace square is not shot through from the outside. He eventually realized this and was upset. Most likely, he would have burned the paper, but we frightened him off in time. In the confusion of fees, he forgot about it.
   - Then what do you think he'll do?
   - He will come closer. - Valria cupped her chin in her fingers, frowning. - We again need the help of our swarthy friend.
   Lady Yana appeared immediately - the messenger had just left the door of the guardhouse and only a minute later returned, accompanied by a guardsman. The black-haired girl took a letter with a report from the elf, listened to her request and, without asking too many questions, led both mercenaries inside. Carlon sighed heavily, realizing Valria's intentions. Premonitions did not deceive - the captain began to cut circles around the palace. Fortunately, in the company of one of the protectors of the princess, they were let through everywhere. The elf was so focused that, tired of walking silently, Carlon preferred to start a conversation with Lady Yana walking alongside.
   - Let me ask, lady, - he began, not at all sure that his interlocutor would answer him. - What happened to the duke's guards? I remember there are three of them.
   - Sir Fritz, next to whom the master died, chose to follow the call of honor, - the girl answered calmly. - His body will be buried next to His Highness. Sir Harold and Sir Roland, who were not present in the throne room at the time of the assassination, have already turned to Princess Christina with a request to decide their fate. The princess forbade them to commit suicide and asked them to serve her. So did all her ancestors in similar circumstances. Sirs swore allegiance to the princess, and will continue to serve as simple knights in the palace guards.
   Glancing sideways at Carlon, she added:
   - I must say that both sirs were eager to participate in the hunt for the killer. But the princess forbade them. Because it's too personal for them. I was assigned to help with the investigation, as even among my sisters in the guard, I am the least prone to succumb to emotions.
   - It can be seen. - Valria suddenly stopped, turned to her companions. - Lady, how is this thing inside?
   They stood in front of the observatory. The workplace of the ducal astrologer was located on the outskirts, in the corner of the palace fence - so that the light from the windows would not interfere with observations, probably. The observatory itself was a thin round tower topped with a copper dome. The dome, as Carlon knew, could rotate with the telescope installed inside.
   - Most of the tower is occupied by a spiral staircase. - The guardswoman tilted her head back to see the entire observatory. - There is no basement. At the very top, under the platform of the telescope, there is a service room, from where servants can take care of the mechanism for turning the dome. Even lower is a large round room. Astrologers used to live in it, but now there is only a library. The current astrologer settled in the palace. He has bad knees.
   - Well. - Valria chuckled. - I need to talk to the princess. The faster the better.
   - It's impossible. - Lady Yana frowned. - Any questions you can solve with me.
   - No, my dear lady, - the elf objected, still smiling. - Only her ladyship can decide this question personally.
   They literally caught Princess Christina in the corridor, intercepting her halfway from one meeting to another. Under the heir to the throne, there were no ladies-in-waiting, no other retinue, only one more girl from the guard. Just like Lady Yana, the girl wore a blue uniform, long brown over the knee boots and unadorned silver armor, but otherwise turned out to be her complete opposite. Small and slender as a teenager, with a round high cheekbones face that would suit a smile, warm brown eyes and shoulder-length curly brown hair, she did not look menacing at all. The princess introduced her protector as Lady Emilia and invited everyone to go into the first office they came across, from where the guards put out some kind of clerk. Lady Yana, with a deep bow, apologized to her ladyship for her concern and gave the floor to Valria. She briefly shared her morning discovery and added:
   - I examined the palace and came to the conclusion that there are only three points inside the fence, from where it will be possible to hit you with a shot at the time of the coronation, without catching the eyes of the external guard. These are the spire of the temple, the roof of the throne room and the dome of the observatory. But a good killer will choose a place based also on the ability to retreat after a shot. Our adversary is not one of those who will die for an idea, as it seems to me. The palace and temple will be filled with people, including guards. Only the observatory remains. It is not guarded and stands apart from other buildings. In addition, it is located near the fence itself. It is easy to get close to it unnoticed, and if you go down the outer wall of the tower on a rope, then with proper skill you can jump right behind the bars.
   - To listen to you, so the killer goes to the palace as to his home, - Christina noticed, sitting down at the table left by the clerk. She gestured for the others to sit down, but the guards remained standing. Lady Yana bowed her head respectfully, placing her hand on her chest.
   - Your Grace, the security of the palace relies too heavily on magic. The killer has already shown that he can pass through barriers and alarms. If we subtract the magic element, there will be many holes in the security system that we are not able to quickly detect and close. The inner chambers, for which the guards are responsible, are completely safe, but the rest of the territory is not. But thanks to Lady Valria, we know what to do. I will order to block all positions named by her.
   - But this is not worth doing. - The elf, seated opposite the princess, laced her fingers together. - If this attempt fails, the killer will come up with something else. And we will not know where the villain will strike from. Only capturing the killer will really keep your ladyship safe. However, for this you have to let him put his head in the noose. Let him climb into the tower, there we will take him by the throat.
   - It's a risk for the madam. - Lady Emilia said softly. Her voice was young and sonorous, to match her appearance.
   - Yes. - Lady Yana nodded. - But I must agree with Lady Valria's logic. Leaving the killer free is an even greater risk. We must try. If you agree, Your Grace. - She turned to the princess.
   - I agree, - she replied without hesitation. - However, I have a question for you, Lady Valria. What if the killer had already abandoned the shooting plan? If he remembered the lost map? Guessed we'd reveal his intentions?
   - Then we just won't give him time to prepare anything else. - The elf smiled. - Such attempts are not organized in one day. Your Grace, that's why I wanted to see you in person. I ask you to move the coronation date as close to today as possible. The best is the day after tomorrow. And announce that your father's funeral will take place in a crypt under the palace, without a public part. So we put the bastard before a choice - either play according to the old plan, or refuse the assassination attempt.
   There was silence in the office. The princess and lady Emilia looked seriously dumbfounded, Carlon also almost opened his mouth at such impudence. But Lady Yana, after thinking for a moment, stepped forward and stood next to Valria. Putting her hands behind her back and throwing her chin up, she said firmly:
   - My lady, I have the courage to join the request.
   - You both want me to die of starvation before I get shot or poisoned. - Contrary to Carlon's expectations, the princess smiled wearily. - Everyone is already falling down, and you are asking to speed up the preparation... Well, so be it. The coronation will take place the day after tomorrow.
  
   Chapter 10
   The postponement of the celebrations deprived the killer of time to prepare - but the same applied to his opponents. It was necessary to hurry, without raising a fuss noticeable from the side. While the guards were organizing the trap, Carlon walked around the magic shops of the capital - but did not find anything useful for himself. In the end, he bought a self-tying rope, and devoted the evening to enchanting two glass jars. No special tricks - the jars should have simply burst on command, scattering fragments. In theory, the master concocted a couple of ingenious artifacts that would be useful against an enemy immune to magic, but even the archmage of the Imperial University would not have been able to produce them in such a short time.
   Most often, crown festivities began in the morning, but this time, in order to gain extra hours for preparations, the ceremony was moved towards the evening - and subsequent celebrations at night. When Carlon and Valria arrived fully armed at sunset, the music inside the palace had just begun to play. At the door of the astronomical tower, Lady Yana was waiting for them all alone.
   - Everything is ready, - she said. - There are seven people inside - four in the library, three on the platform of the telescope. Together with us, this will be more than enough. In addition, I have placed twenty archers with fortress guns and siege crossbows on neighboring rooftops. They are ordered to constantly monitor the dome of the observatory. If the killer still manages to deal with us and get into a firing position, they will suppress him with fire. And the shots of the guns will give a signal to my sisters guarding the princess that she needs to be taken away from the open place.
   - It would be nice to see some more of them here, - Carlon admitted. - The palace guards are good, but I trust the princess guards more.
   - Alas, during the coronation, all guards must be close to their overlord. Missing the laying of the crown on the lady is an indelible stain of shame for the rest of your life. - The black-haired girl said this quite calmly, as if nothing had happened. - It was announced that I suddenly fell ill and could not get out of bed. But the absence of even two guardsmen would already have aroused suspicion.
   - However... It turns out that your reputation will suffer...
   - It's about Christina's safety. The rest is not so important.
   It was the first time the Master saw Lady Yana smile. Her chiseled swarthy face became even more beautiful.
   - "I live to serve"? - Valria quoted with a grin.
   "I am like a candle. The flame that gives light to others burns my flesh to ashes," - the girl guardsman retorted in a flat voice, still smiling.
   - Tertius-Senior?
   - No, Junior. The elder was a practical alchemist, not a poet.
   In response, the elf only snorted - she had nothing to parry.
   They climbed a spiral staircase that ran through the tower from the ground to the base of the dome. The magician mentally sympathized with the ducal astrologers - towards the end of the journey, his knees hurt. The former living room, turned into a library, turned out to be quite spacious. Tall cabinets lined the walls, occupying the gaps between the windows, and under the windows themselves were comfortable tables for reading. In the center of the room, a metal staircase wound around a stone pillar, leading to a telescope. Cabinets that had previously stood close to the walls were pushed back a little. Soldiers hid behind them, and two of them had a small net with lead weights.
   - Take position, - Lady Yana suggested, and she herself went behind the closet.
   - What happens if he doesn't come? - Carlon asked her. - Or choose another point?
   - So we'll just skip the coronation. - The lynx-eyed girl didn't even turn around. - Other points are also guarded.
   - I would have looked at the coronation, - Valria sighed. - But here you have to choose, either this or that. It's more interesting here.
   The master fit behind the closet not without difficulty - bitterly realizing that the elf's jokes about his belly have a basis. From his pozition he could see Lady Yana - she immediately leaned her back against the wall and folded her arms across her chest. The magician decided that it was worth taking an example from her and relaxing. The painful minutes of waiting dragged on.
   It got dark. The windows of the library remained closed, but the court musicians tried so hard that the echoes of melodies could be heard even here. At times there was a noise of voices. The first fireworks crackled. Watching their multi-colored reflections on the floor of the room, Carlon did not immediately pay attention to the clicks and rustling just under his ear. And having turned, he tried to press himself against the wall, drown in the shadows. The window to the left of the magician silently swung open, and a man in a gray-black suit gently descended from the windowsill to the floor. He threw off a long leather case from his shoulder, stepped towards the stairs...
   Valria emerged from behind the cupboards just as silently, raising a small cavalry crossbow. The killer noticed her at the last moment, and still managed to react. At the same time as the crossbow clicked, he raised the case in front of him. An arrow pierced something inside with a crunch, and Peter threw the case at the elf. Even sandwiched between two cabinets, the girl almost dodged - but still received a blow to the shoulder and fell, and unsuccessfully, onto her own crossbow.
   - Light! - Lady Yana called out, jumping out of her hiding place. Carlon sent a bit of energy into the magic lamp under the ceiling, also came out from behind the closet. Threw an enchanted rope at an enemy. The rope looped around his legs... and slid helplessly to the floor without being tightened. However, as soon as the golden light flashed, the whole ambush began to move. Two guards blocked the killer's path to the stairs, two others were already stretching the net. From above, stomping on the iron steps, reinforcements hurried. Carlon blocked the enemy's way back to the open window, Lady Yana stood beside him, sword in both hands.
   - Ha! - exclaimed the stranger, turning to the master. - You again!
   He pulled out an odd-looking knife and twirled it in his hand. For some reason, turning the tip towards himself, he directed the knife handle towards the magician. Years of experience had taught Carlon that if an enemy pointed an object at you, no matter how harmless it looked, it was bad. However, the magician did not have time to do anything - a strong push to the shoulder knocked him down. There was a dry pop, and white smoke escaped from the handle of the knife. Lady Yana, who pushed Carlon away from the shot, staggered, dropped her sword. The killer ran past her, threw a knife and some other object through the window, jumped after them. There was an explosion below. The guardsman fell heavily to her knees, began to fall face forward. Carlon managed to grab the girl - and realized with horror that in the place of Yana's left eye there was a gaping bloody hole. The black-haired girl was dead - a small bullet had entered exactly in the eye socket. The master clenched his teeth, feeling the fury rise in his chest. It was a stupid death - he himself would have jumped back in time, but Lady Yana did not know this, and the bodyguard reflex hammered in from childhood played in her ...
   Valria ran up and touched the guardsman on the shoulder, saw the wound, blurted out something in Old Elvish, probably the dirtiest curse. Deftly jumping onto the windowsill, she also jumped down.
   - Get down, notify the posts! - Carlon ordered the taken aback guards. He himself, whispering: "Forgive me," tore off the blue guards cloak from the shoulders of the dead girl, wrapped his palms around it, climbed over the reading table, felt for the thin rope left by the killer. Already gliding over it, he noticed that the villain had climbed the tower from the outside, without catching the eye of the guards placed by Lady Yana on the roofs of the palace. Remembering Valria's recent words, at the right moment, the master pushed off with his feet and opened his fingers. Having flown over the upper edge of the palace grating, he flopped to the ground from a height of a couple of meters, and rolled three times more head over heels. Not thinking about bruises, he got up, saw Valria's back not so far ahead, rushed after her. The killer got a good head start - he had already practically crossed the empty lane separating the palace fence from the residential areas. Valria ran after her, holding the scabbard of her sword, but obviously she was not in time. However, before the stranger dived into the interweaving of crooked streets, a short figure in a cloak with a hood darted towards him from the shadow of the last building. The cloak flew off to the side, in the light of the moon and the fireworks, the silver of the cuirass and the gold of the hair flashed.
   - Dallan! - The mage gasped.
   Sergeant Dallan an Balran, who was now supposed to hunt deer far away, drew her sword on the run and... launched it at the enemy, aiming at the legs. The fair-haired alien jumped, letting the buzzing blade pass under him, but as soon as he landed, he was immediately hit in the jaw with a graceful fist. He rolled over onto his back, kicking up a cloud of dust. Dallan leaned over her fallen foe, swinging for another blow. And the killer put his hand into his pants pocket, pulled out some small object. Fire flashed in his fist. It cracked dry. The sound bore little resemblance to the rumble of an arquebus, and yet Carlon already knew that it was a shot. Once. Another. Third. Dallan suddenly went limp and fell like a limp rag doll onto her opponent. He pushed the girl off him, got up, again rushed to run. Valria, who almost overtook him, forgot about the pursuit, fell to her knees in front of her friend, who was lying prone. Arriving seconds later, Carlon sank down beside her and helped the elf turn Dallan onto her back. He immediately saw three bullet holes in the sergeant's silver cuirass and... a meaningful look of green eyes. The swordswoman was still alive, even conscious.
   - Not... can... sorry ... - barely moving her lips, she vhispered.
   - Shut up! - the mage barked at the girl. - Valria, run to the palace, drag the ducal doctor here!
   The elf, without saying a word, nodded to him and disappeared as if she had evaporated. The magician looked up for a second to make sure that the stranger had safely disappeared among the houses, then immediately dismissed him from his mind. He took out a long dagger from the scabbard on the girl's right thigh, cut the leather straps fastening the halves of her cuirass with it. He threw aside the top, perforated plate. He unceremoniously ripped open the wounded woman's jacket and shirt, exposing the sergeant's blood-drenched chest. With the same dagger, he deeply cut his left palm - the one that is closer to the heart. He pressed it to the bullet hole above the girl's right breast, let his and her blood mix. He closed his eyes, shutting himself in.
   Carlon was not a doctor, but after the war, wandering around the world, he saw different things, and realized that the knowledge of medicine is simply necessary for a magician. It doesn't matter what his specialty is. From several tutors, he learned the basics of field medicine, enough to, if not save a badly wounded warrior, then at least stabilize him. Without healing amulets and potions, the only way was available to the master. Enter into symbiosis with Dallan, and make her lead-pierced body work in the likeness of his healthy one. What he did. Carlon's work was complicated by the fact that the girl's body was still different from his own, male. But the magician managed. Maintain the blood circle. Maintain a circle of air. Don't let blood flow where it doesn't belong. Circle after circle. Turn after turn. One lost life is enough for today. A bullet to the head is too much even for magic. But he won't let Dallan die. Circle of blood. Air circle. Again. Again.
   When Carlon was touched on the shoulder, he shuddered. Opening his eyes, he saw before him a man in the white robes of a court magician-healer. And around - a dense ring of soldiers of the palace and city guards.
   - Now I'll take care of her, - the doctor said, pushing the master aside. Carlon fell on his ass, panting heavily, like a running dog. It began to shake, but the trembling subsided when the magician discovered that inside the iron ring he, the healer and the wounded were not alone. Valeria was also here, which is not surprising, and... Princess Christina, surrounded by seven guards.
   - Your Grace... - the master tried to get up, but his strength left him, and he completely collapsed on his shoulder blades. - Your Highness!
   - Lie down, master, - said Christina. Instead of a simple gold circlet, the heiress now wore a ducal crown on her head. - Everything is fine.
   - You shouldn't have come, - Valria said dryly, not taking her eyes off the healer. - It's risky, and the ceremony is still underway.
   - They put the crown on me, and now I go where I want, - Christina snapped. Oh yes, Christina II - Carlon somehow remembered that in Elvart there was already a duchess with that name.
   - You already know that Lady Yana... - Carlon stammered. Valria sat down next to him, slipped her hand under the mage's head so that he would not lie with the back of his head in the dust - but her gaze was riveted to the wounded friend.
   - Yes I know. - The young duchess pursed her lips tightly. - That's partly why I'm here.
   Christina II stepped forward, knelt before Dallan, not afraid to stain her silk skirts. She squeezed her hand, wrapped in a rough glove, with two of her own. Called:
   - Anna... Anna, can you hear me?
   - Yes, - the green-eyed girl replied weakly. - Yes Milady.
   - She shouldn't be told, - the doctor said curtly, without raising his head.
   - Yana is dead, - the duchess said quietly, ignoring the healer.
   - Pity... - Dallan's voice rustled like leaves in the wind.
   - You protected me today. So I'm not wrong about you. And Yana was also right then. I cannot cancel the sentence. But if you want, I'll get you hired to take her place. Yana wouldn't mind.
   - No. - The sergeant took a deep breath and answered in a slightly firmer voice. - You can not break the laws of the guard. Even you. I'm not Anna anymore, mistress. Anna was executed. I don't have a name. But I will always... always... be... you...
   Dallan paused, her hand slipping from the Duchess's.
   - Doctor! - Valria growled.
   - It's all right - the healerr replied, turning to them for the first time. - She is sleeping. The lungs are not affected, I prevented internal bleeding and removed the bullets.
   He threw three bloody pieces of metal into the dust. The elf, instantly changing her face, leaned forward and kissed the healer on the cheek. Putting her hat with a feather under Carlon's head, she got up. She found the little lady Emilia among the guards. Approaching her, she asked:
   - The guardsman has no family, except for the overlord and the guards, right?
   - That's right, - nodded the frail protector of the Duchess. - We are all sisters.
   Valria, under the astonished looks of those around her, tore off the gilded buttons from her green waistcoat, put them into the palm of Lady Emilia:
   - I owed your sister two silver coins. I don't have any money right now, but...
   The guardswoman lowered her eyelids for a moment and nodded. She and the elf understood each other. And Carlon realized that he was a fool. Even at the first meeting with Lady Yana, it seemed to him that he had already seen the armor of a guardsman somewhere. And he really saw that the Dallan cuirass was no different from them, except for the blue pattern. Yes, and this nickname is "Ninth of Eight"... But it turns out that Valria knew?
   The magician did not have time to ask this question to the elf - the last sparks of the recent outburst of anger finally burned out in him, and the master lost consciousness.
   * * *
   - Yana... always seemed awfully strict, - Dallan said in a low voice. The sergeant lay on the bed in her and Valria's cabin, wrapped in warm blankets up to her chin. Carlon and the elf sat side by side on chairs pulled up to the bed, holding glasses of warmed wine. Outside, behind tightly closed windows, the wind was raging and pouring rain.
   - But she only seemed to be, - the girl continued, taking a breath. She could not speak for a long time. - Because of the look. Because of the eyes. She had such... you saw. But I knew her intimately. Yana was kind. Caring. She always took care of those who had a hard time. Supported and guided. Yana was born a leader. If there were ranks in the guard, she would become a commander. The lady's guards... have lost a lot. They are all good fighters, but only Yana knew how to... organize them. Without any title, she was simply loved and therefore obeyed.
   - May the Creator accept her into his Last Army. - Valria raised her glass, and she and the master drank. Then the elf brought another mug to the sergeant's lips and let the sergeant take a sip. - We will see her again at the End of All Days. We will stand with Yana under one banner.
   - Yes. - Dallan said softly and lowered her eyelids. Her breathing became even. The magician and the elf sat in silence, looking first at the wounded woman, then at each other. Two days have passed since the coronation. The Duchess made sure that they were not disturbed, and provided everything for the care of their friend. They themselves did not ask Dallan about anything - and she was in no hurry to tell. It was now clear to Carlon, even without questioning, why she had taken time off from Valria and was following them secretly. Elf - even more so. The fact that the green-eyed swordswoman had once served in the guards of the princess, from where, according to everyone's belief, they go only to the cemetery, struck Carlon. However, he managed to contain his curiosity. Someday, the one who is no longer called Lady Anna will tell him as much as she sees fit. For now, it is enough to know that she is still a loyal comrade.
   There was a knock on the door. The magician looked at Valria in surprise and went to open it. The elf, meanwhile, loaded her crossbow and retreated into a dark corner. A sodden messenger was found outside the threshold, accompanied by two equally soaking palace guards.
   - For Lady Valria, a package from the palace. Personally in her hands.
   Received from the messenger, a round object, wrapped in oiled leather, they hoisted on the table.
   - I guess what's in there, - said the visibly cheerful girl.
   - Watermelon? Too heavy, in my opinion. - Carlon unraveled the ropes that entangled the bundle, pulled the wrapper off the object. He gasped.
   It really was a watermelon. Artfully crafted in silver, a watermelon embellished with stripes of gold foil.
   - Why did I save her? - In a whisper, so as not to wake her friend, the elf girl exclaimed.
   - Well, we didn't catch the killer. - Carlon grunted, fascinated stroking the miracle watermelon with his fingertips. - They just kicked him out of the city. And we did not deserve the reward we discussed. Think of it as just payment for effort.
   - How many times have I told myself not to mess with those in power... - Valria muttered grimly, turning away from the work of art. - I'll chop this thing up tomorrow and sell it piece by piece. And with the proceeds I will buy a cartload of watermelons.
   - You'd be better off hiring more people. - Carlon sighed. - We will meet this Peter again, mark my words. But the two of us are not enough against him.
   - Ha. - The captain threw back her head and pointed to the bed. - Two - yes. But there are three of us again. I really hope to meet him again...
  
  
   Part 3. Where all paths converge
   Chapter 11
   Winter came to Elvart early, pushing autumn almost a month ahead of schedule. Heavy rains were replaced by a gray drizzle that quickly turned to snow. The Duchy dozed under a white blanket. In the city's ice-free harbor, ships slept, and the dense forest of tall masts swayed gently, crackling in the wind. Trading lanes emptied, troop movements ceased - the imperial armies had winter quarters along the Duchy's borders. Ordinary mercenaries were left virtually jobless - neither the merchants nor the War Office needed their services. Many free companies left the city, heading south. But the "Bright heads" had their work cut out for them - and master Carlon was certainly not left out.
   It took the first month after the coronation to get Dallan back on her feet. Although the cottage rented by the elf and the sergeant was visited several times by the duchess's personal healer, and Valria herself surrounded her friend with care, the wounds inflicted by the weapon from the other world were slow to heal. On the day the first real snow fell - white feathers, not ice-crumbles - the sergeant was finally able to pick up her sword and perform a few exercises in the courtyard. So far she had practiced without her armor, but it was already progress. When the green-eyed girl had finished her last set of blows and lowered her blade, breathing heavily, the happy elf rushed over to her, hugged tightly, kissed her on the lips, not at all shy of Carlon who had come to check on them. The mage, however, had long been aware of the mercenaries relationship, but averted his gaze politely.
   Dallan recovered just in time. Contrary to her threats, the captain never sold the precious watermelon granted by the duchess - it now adorned the shelf of one of the cabinets. The fee the girls had received from Mr. Sandr was nearing the end, and the purse of the master had begun to show the bottom. They had to look for assignments - and they found them. Winter had no effect on the dangers of the neutral zone, and the imperial regiments camped along the border had little idea of the local threats. The experienced elf-herder was needed everywhere - together with Dallan and Carlon, she scouted the Deadlands, trained imperial trackers, tracked border creatures, found their nests and lairs, which were then cleared out by the soldiers placed under her command. The profits made it possible to extend the lease on the cottage and garden, to stock up on food and medicine. Though the trio, as usual, had no spare cash left. At the end of the first month of the new year, they celebrated Valria's 105th birthday rather modestly. After raising a glass of wine in her honor, the mage said that now if you subtract zero from the resulting figure, you can find out the real age of the elf to human standards. For which he was exiled from the festive table to polish the duke's miracle watermelon with a rag.
   One day at the end of winter, a visitor came to the garden cottage. The mage was chopping wood for the fireplace when he saw a short figure, wrapped in a warm cloak with a hood, outside the gate. He was convinced that he had been spotted and the cloaked man walked down the path, stopped in front of Carlon, and threw back his hood. The guest turned out to be Lady Emilia of the Duchess' Guard.
   - Good morning, master, - said the little brown-eyed girl, smiling. - Do you remember me? We've only met once before...
   - Of course I remember you, lady. - The mage leaned his axe hastily against the wall, hesitating, unsure if he should bow. Her Highness bodyguard dispelled the mage's doubts by simply extending her hand for a handshake. Carlon gently squeezed the dainty palm in the suede glove.
   - I am, with your permission, looking for captain Valria. - Lady Emilia glanced at the door of the house. - Is she here?
   - No, she and her sergeant have gone to the market for groceries, - the wizard shook his head. - But they will be back soon. Can you wait?
   - Yes.
   - Then I invite you in for tea.
   - It would be my pleasure, master. - The little girl smiled again. It suited her very well - Lady Emelia's round, dimpled face looked as if it had been made to smile.
   The fire was blazing hot, so Carlon immediately took off his fur-lined jacket. The guest also hung her warm cloak on the brass hook near the entrance. She was dressed rather lightly for winter-a short blue camisole over a white blouse, blue tight-fitting pants, and long, mid-thigh boots with narrow lapels, like those worn by all girl guardsmen. The tiny lady was unarmed. She sank into a chair, tucked her gloves behind her belt, and stood there with her hands in her lap, staring out the window. Carlon, fiddling with the kettle by the fireplace, looked in her direction not without curiosity. Until then, he had known more or less intimately only one defender of the Duchess - Lady Jana, who had died on Coronation Day. Lady Emilia bore little resemblance to her in appearance. If Jana stood tall and impeccable build like an antique gymnast, her named sister looked more like a glass statue of a dancer - fragile and airy. If the collected and serious lynx-eyed girl looked older than her twenty-four years, then the smiling Emilia master Carlon would not have given even eighteen, even knowing that all the guardsmen were of the same age. And yet, the two girls were in fact extremely similar. Not in looks. Something else, elusive. Maybe their ability to stand or sit perfectly still, as if they weren't even breathing.
   - How is sergeant Dallan feeling? - the guardswoman wondered as the master docked the kettle on a special grate inside the fireplace. The question from the quietly seated girl made the mage flinch. With an awkward chuckle, he replied:
   - Fully recovered, lady. Though she should spend more time in the warmth.
   - Glad to hear it. - The guardswoman looked away, tracing a thin finger across the rough tabletop. - I was worried about her. Losing two sisters in one day is a difficult ordeal. Thank you for saving her.
   - Dallan was saved by Her Highness healer, - the mage brushed her off. - And... you two knew each other before, didn't you?
   - We have. - Without looking at the wizard, the guest nodded slowly. - We grew up together. Her name was Anna then.
   - And you don't know how it happened that she... well... - the mage was embarrassed, and instead of words he simply held up his hands.
   - I know. But if she didn't see fit to tell you herself, I'm not sure...
   - Yes, of course. - Already regretting having brought the conversation to this subject, Carlon turned away to the kettle. The kettle was just beginning to whistle steam.
   - She's made a mistake, - Lady Emilia said quietly behind his back. - She broke her oath right after she took her vows. Not out of malice. Christina forgave her, and so did we. But the law could not forgive. She had to die either by her own hand or by the hand of one of us. But Jana intervened. She convinced everyone to leave the decision to the princess. And Christina found a way out - in the old books. Lady Anne died. That same day, a girl with no name came out of the palace.
   - Dallan an Belran. - The mage took the kettle off the fire and put it on the table. - I've already figured that out. The Ninth of the Eight. That's why the nickname is...
   - Name, - Lady Emilia corrected, raising her head. - It is her name now. That's all I can tell you. Except... to me a sister remains a sister, even if I am not allowed to call her by the name I know. I am grateful to those who are willing to take care of her in her time of need.
   For the next quarter of an hour they sipped tea in silence. The guest watched the path across the garden, and Carlon pondered what he heard. Had he learned more than he should? About Dallan's past, perhaps, it was worth asking Dallan herself.
   At last there were familiar voices from the courtyard, and a few seconds later the door swung open. The elf-woman said something with laughter to Dallan, who was following her, but she frowned when she saw Lady Emilia. In a rather unfriendly tone the captain said:
   - Good morning, Lady Guardsman. Are you on business?
   - You are perceptive, captain. - Smiling at Valria, the guardswoman caught the sergeant's eye, nodded to her. Dallan, after a moment's hesitation, nodded back. - I am on behalf of Her Highness.
   - The Duchess has a job for us? - The elf smirked, setting the basket of food on the floor. Dallan, meanwhile, closed the door, took off her winter cloak, and hung it next to their guest's cloak.
   - Yes. Will you listen to her request?
   - Go ahead, lady. - Valria gave her cloak to the sergeant, walked to the bed in her boots, and sat down on the edge of the mattress. Not at all offended by such impoliteness, Emilia began:
   - As soon as the last of the snow has melted, Duchess Christina will travel to the Imperial capital to pay her oaths to His Majesty the Emperor. She has been delayed as it is, albeit for good reason. The Imperial Intelligence Service has informed us that they believe the assassin from the other world who murdered the Duchess father has left Elvart. However, he did not go back to the Coalition lands, but into Imperial territory, where his trail was lost. The Empire has strengthened security for all important people. But we cannot rule out the possibility that the assassin might make another attempt on the Duchess's life. She will be vulnerable during the trip.
   - Uh-huh. - Valria patted the bed with her palm, inviting Dallan to sit beside her, but the sergeant remained standing by the door, leaning against the jamb. - And you need people who've encountered the alien before, right?
   - That's right. My lady asks you to accompany her on her journey. Besides, the Archmage of the Duchy is dead. Her Highness has only a healer with her. A new archmage from the Imperial University won't be available until after the duchess's homage. - The guardswoman turned to Carlon. - In this regard, Her Highness would be especially pleased to take vaster Carlon into her entourage for the duration of the trip. Even if the Bright Heads do not accept the assignment.
   - Yes they will, don't worry, - Valria grinned. - Dallan, you don't mind, do you?
   - I... would be happy to defend my mistress again, - the swordswoman said uncertainly. - But may I...
   - You won't need to go into the palace, - Lady Emilia reassured her. - We'll be the only guards on the road with Christina. It's all right.
   - It's settled, then. - The elf twitched her ears and slammed her fist into her palm. - The order is taken. Have you finished your tea, lady? Then I'll show you out.
   - Wait. - The guardswoman rose from her chair, shook off invisible dust from the sleeves of her blue camisole. - The Duchess has one small condition. She believes that your past encounters with the assassin would have ended less miserably if you were better skilled in unarmed combat. We're still a couple of weeks away. I offer you my services as your trainer. The Duchess has given me permission to take half a day off every day to train you.
   - Oh! - Valria stood up with an unkind grin and approached her guest closely. The elven woman was tall only for a girl, but Lady Emilia barely reached her chin. - Training with a real guardsman? I don't mind it at all. Why don't you show me your skills right now, lady?
   - Why not. - Emilia nodded with a polite smile. - And I'll see what you can do. Shall we go out into the courtyard?
   - Why does Valria have such a soft spot for the Guard? - muttered the mage to himself as the elf maiden and her guest stepped outside. - She was very rude to Yana at first, too.
   - Because of me, - Dallan replied quietly. She finally pulled away from the jamb and sat down at the table where the window overlooked the courtyard. Carlon sank into a chair beside her. - She's... resentful of the Guard. Because of my past.
   - So that's it... - said the Master in a neutral tone. Outside the window, the elfess and the guardsman stood across from each other. Emilia was not wearing a cloak, and Valria had dropped her warm jacket, leaving her in a blouse and vest. Both girls' breaths rose to the gray sky in clouds of steam.
   - She's doing it in vain, - the sergeant sighed suddenly. - Emilia and Jana were always on my side. Even in my worst moments. Jana didn't let me die. And Emilia carried food and money when I hadn't even met Valria yet. She took a great risk.
   On the other side of the window, the rivals exchanged ceremonial bows, like before a sword duel, and Valria immediately rushed to the attack. For ten minutes the mage and sergeant watched the scene in the courtyard. It was hardly a duel. At last the girls returned to the house. Drenched in snow, disheveled Valria laughed heartily, patted her opponent on the shoulder, trying to stroke her head. Little Lady Emilia, not even a wrinkle in her clothes, shied away from the elfess advances with all possible delicacy.
   - Okay, - the captain announced, shaking off the snow doggishly. Her pointed ears perked up. - Carlon, from tomorrow, you'll come to us at two o'clock in the afternoon. We'll embarrass ourselves together.
  
   Chapter 12
   In perfect accordance with the predictions of the palace astrologer (who was more often engaged in predicting the weather than in making horoscopes), winter came early and left the duchy earlier than usual. Little Lady Emilia now came to the garden cottage without her cloak, flaunting her costume of armorial colors. Though the streets of the capital drowned in puddles, the girl's soft brown boots never had a drop of mud on them - although she made her way from the palace to the mercenaries' dwelling on foot. Every day the guardswoman raced the trio to the sweat. Her swordsmanship was on par with that of Valria, and even noticeably inferior to Dallan's, but when it came to unarmed combat, only the sergeant could match the duchess' bodyguard. The first training sessions were truly humbling. The frail brown-eyed girl didn't teach them anything, just tested their skills - and at the same time demonstrated how defenseless all three mercenaries were when they didn't have a blade in their hands. Lady Emilia's sincere friendliness, her warm smile, and her attempts to cheer up the overgrown students did not help at all - Carlon still felt as if he had been beaten by a teenage girl. It was not until the fourth day that full lessons began. And the master, who considered himself a man of experience, discovered many new things. He had always known that there were many ways to kill or cripple someone without magic or weapons. But he had never imagined that there could be such a... systematic approach to these ways. It turned out that the science of hand-to-hand combat could be studied as long as the high art of magic. And, of course, the mage realized at once that in two or three weeks you would learn nothing but the very tops. Even with such an infinitely patient and benevolent teacher as Lady Emilia. The tops, however, were enough to make sense of past failures. The skills of an assassin from another world no longer seemed supernatural - just unfamiliar. Nothing beyond the abilities of an ordinary man. Nothing that could not be resisted.
   Three days before the beginning of spring, Emilia arrived earlier than usual, dressed in her uniform and armor, her sword in a sling.
   - I'm sorry, there will be no lesson today, - she said as she crossed the threshold of the lodge. - Her Highness will be leaving in a few hours. Captain Valria and master Carlon are invited to the palace.
   - So suddenly... - the mage, who had been sitting in an armchair with a book, frowned.
   - The exact time of the Duchess' departure from the palace is always known only to her and the guardsmen, - the brown-eyed girl replied. - A mere precaution.
   - Well, - Valria rose from the table where she had been munching breadcrumbs with milk and picked up her leather gloves from the windowsill. - It's time to go. Dallan, get our bags and horses ready, and meet us outside the gate.
   Since the assassination of the last ruler, palace security has been tightened, but the Lady Guardian and her companions were allowed inside without question, as before. After passing the cordegardia, Emilia led the mage and elfish girl not to the main building, but somewhere to the right, along the fence. As Carlon realized with surprise, it was toward the menagerie. The Elvartian menagerie was second only to the imperial one in size and wealth. It occupied three squat buildings, one of which was a greenhouse where thermophilic beasts from the far south were kept in winter. More recently, the living gifts from the overseas colonies had also been housed there - the creatures caught in the damp forests of Ludria were frozen in Elvart even in the summer. It was to this glass-roofed enclosure that their escort made her way. The open door smelled so hot that the mage hurriedly unbuttoned his jacket beforehand. Walking between the aviary, where red-and-yellow birds were jumping restlessly on a fine netting, and the pen with sleepy desert antelope, all three of them found themselves on a circular platform. The door of a large cage overlooked the court. In the cage, a bipedal lizard, already familiar to the mage, sat on the floor, brought as a gift to the late duke, and before the door stood... Duchess Christina the Second in her own right.
   - Your Highness, - Lady Emilia bowed to her. Valria and Carlon followed the Guardsman's example.
   - Good day, Emilia. Good day, captain, master... - The Duchess averted her gaze from the lizard and turned to the new arrivals. - Frankly, I've spent the last quarter of an hour trying to figure out what you're interested in this creature, Lady Valria. I received your letter.
   - That's good, Your Highness. - The elf girl walked rather unceremoniously past the duchess and stopped in front of the steel bars. She tapped them with her bent finger, catching the lizard's attention. It got up from the straw thatch and came closer. He stared at the girl with his unblinking, round eyes. Valria, deliberately slow, pulled her gloves off her hands and tucked them behind her belt. She took off her dapper leather jacket, with its white fur collar, and held it out to the lizard through the bars. The overseas beast took another step forward, raised its clawed paw... and grabbed the captain's hand, sinking its sharp claws deep into the back of her wrist.
   - Lady Valria! - The guardian jerked forward, striking her sword, but the elfess stopped her with a gesture. Blood trickled thinly down the girl's arm, pooling at the wrist, but she made no attempt to free it. The captain stared into the lizard's eyes as she continued to hold out her jacket for him. The lizard stood motionless as well, running its claws full length into Valria's flesh. Finally, he hissed softly, opening his mouth, and withdrew his paw. As if hesitating for a moment, he took the girl's jacket, threw it over his shoulders in a perfectly human motion. He leaned forward and... quickly licked the wounds left by his claws on the girl's arm with his long thin tongue. Then he returned to the couch and sat down, wrapped in his gifted jacket.
   - Impressive, - Christine said at last. The duchess' composure allowed her to maintain a nonchalant tone, but it was clear that she was really impressed by what she saw.
   - Here we are. - Valria turned to the ruler, lowering her hand. Blood was now dripping down the elf's fingers, dripping heavy dark droplets onto the floor. - Will you honor my request, Your Highness? Will you give the creature to me?
   - I think I will, - the duchess nodded gravely. - We'll discuss this matter in more detail when we return from the Empire. But you may consider it resolved in your favor.
   - Thank you, Your Highness. - The captain bowed her head respectfully. The mage went to her to examine her wounds, but the Lady Emilia beat him to it. The young guardswoman drew a length of clean cloth from purse on her belt, knelt beside Valria, and deftly worked on her palm. As if unaware of it, the mercenary continued:
   - If the throne requires bail, I can offer you my family treasure, a priceless silver watermelon adorned with gilt. But I presume, Your Highness, that you have not invited me to meet you in person only to answer my letter.
   - You are right, Captain. - Christina the Second let Lady Emilia finish, stepped away from the lizard's cage. The others followed her, into the passage between the bird house and the antelope enclosure. - Actually, I just wanted to ask you one thing. You and the master are the only ones who have looked my father's murderer in the eye. You've even spoken to him. You're the only one who can get an idea of him... as a person.
   - Oh, yes. - Valria fixed the gold strand that had fallen from her temple. - He stroked my ear, which is part of the mating ritual, by the way.
   Carlon, who had also once touched an elf's ears, could hardly keep from exclaiming: "Really?!"
   - I understand your irony, - the young duchess smiled weakly. - But I would still like to hear... is he stubborn? Will he want to finish the job, even if he fails and someone else is assigned to do it?
   - I have no idea, - Valria shrugged. The colored birds in the aviary grew restless for some reason, started running and flapping their wings, and the greenhouse was abuzz with the kind of shrieks an angry donkey would envy. - But I think this Peter is a narcissistic degenerate who thinks he is the protagonist of a heroic ballad. He has every reason to think he's invincible and all his failures are temporary. If this is about an assassination attempt on you, I'm betting he'll try again. To prove to himself that he's invincible. That he is the protagonist.
   Christina nodded slowly:
   - That's the answer I was hoping for. What about you, captain? Are you willing to challenge the alien, even if it becomes... financially unreasonable?
   Valria didn't answer right away. She pulled a glove over her healthy left hand first, tucking the sleeve of her blouse into it. She shrugged again:
   - Maybe.
   - If the alien chooses me as his target, the only two forces that can stop him are you and my guardsmen, - the Duchess said frankly.
   - And you would have preferred us to take the first blow. - The girl smiled crookedly, pulling on her second glove. - Voluntarily and gladly. Because you can still get new mercenaries, but you can't get new guardsmen.
   It seemed to Carlon that Christina the Second's cheek twitched. But he would not bet on it. Nevertheless, the Duchess replied calmly, in a relaxed tone:
   - You are very sympathetic to me, Lady Valria. But Jana and I played as children. For as long as I can remember, she has always been there. All my life. In our games, Jana was the knight and I was the princess. I remember one day I was sitting on a gilded chair in my father's office, like a throne. Jana held out her toy wooden sword to me and swore that she would die defending my life and my honor. Then we both grew up. And Jana actually died defending my life. And either of her sisters would not hesitate to die - for my life, my honor. I want to give them as little reason as possible for this noble act.
   - Madam... - The flushed Lady Emilia began excitedly, but the young ruler silenced her with a wave of her hand:
   - So, Lady Valria, I'll ask you again...
   - Don't worry, Your Highness. - Valeria's crooked chuckle turned into her usual charming smile. - When the unworthy Sir Peter comes at you again, Dallan, Carlon, and I will finish him off. And we won't die in the process.
   They left the greenhouse alone, Lady Emilia staying with the Duchess. Once outside, Valria shuddered, wrapping her gloved hands around her shoulders. Quietly she cursed under her breath.
   - So, according to the results of the meeting with Her Highness Christina the Second, Duchess of Elvart, you have a holes in your palm and no warm clothes, - stated the mage melancholy. - A stunning result for an audience.
   - But I have my own overseas lizard! - The girl protested. - And I may be rid of that watermelon at last...
   They spent the rest of their time before their departure in one of the innumerable sitting rooms of the palace, emptying a vase of fruit that had been found on the table. Valria had no chance to freeze. The kind-hearted Lady Emilia sent a servant with a winter uniform cloak, judging by the length of it to be her own. It was the cloak the captain wore when the cortege assembled. The first to leave the palace was a column of armored cavalry, followed by the duchess's carriage, carts with her entourage, and carts of convoy. At the back of the line was another cavalry unit. Seven ducal guardsmen rode beside Christina's carriage - and the sight was pleasing to the eye. After all, appearance was also taken into account in the selection of future defenders of the ruler. Naturally, one cannot always tell what a three-year-old child will grow up to be, but in the case of Christina's bodyguards, the recruiters were not wrong once. All of the girls were in their best, real beauties. Their white and blue uniforms and brown boots were flawless, their cuirasses, armlets, and gauntlets gleaming in silver, standing out against the gray armor of the rest of the escort. Since the guardsmen wore helmets only in time of war or street unrest, the girls' heads were covered by dainty blue berets adorned with white feathers. Silver helmets-morions with curved margins and low crests-were, however, secured to their saddles. With a professional eye, Carlo noticed that in addition to their swords, two of the girls carried long, silver-plated arquebuses by their saddles, while the others had crossbows with them. This pleased the mage - it means that the guardsmen can defend themselves not only in close combat.
   - It's a good thing we're traveling by land, - said Valria, following the slow moving wagons out of the gate. - It would have been safer for Her Highness to travel by sea... but I would have refused. Stuck in the middle of the water on a piece of rotting wood... Brrrr... - She shivered.
   - I didn't think there was anything you didn't want to do with your life, - the mage grinned.
   - Actually, there are quite a few things I'd never want to do. Though most of them are very intimate matters... - the elfess spotted Dallan at the end of the street leading their horses and waved to the sergeant. She waved back. - So the journey begins with the first step. I'll bet you a slap bet, how many days till we're in trouble? My money's on ten...
  
   Chapter 13
   Valria received her honestly lost slap on the eleventh morning of the trip. Fearing revenge, Carlon showed considerable guile. He delegated the slap to Sergeant Dallan. She spared no mercy for her friend...
   The ten days that the elfess had envisioned passed unnoticed. The first week of the ducal cortege traveled through the lands of Elvart, from city to city, from castle to castle. There was virtually no overnight stay in the field, though Valria and Carlon agreed that it would be easier to ensure Her Highness's safety that way. Lady Emilia, after listening to them, agreed, but noted that if the new duchess avoided her subjects, it might make a strange impression. So the route was not changed.
   The mercenaries faithfully earned their money, working side by side with the guards. At each stop, Valria calculated the positions where a shooter who wanted to get to Christina might be sitting, checked them out, placed secrets. Carlon set magical alarms, looked for traps along the route and in the staging areas - after all, there were other threats besides an alien immune to magic. Dallan simply stayed close to the duchess. The Master feared at first that the sergeant might have trouble with the guardsmen, but nothing terrible happened. When the green-eyed girl joined the escort, she simply exchanged nods with the other bodyguards and that was it. The mage began to suspect that the nods to the guardsmen had some hidden meaning, incomprehensible to an outsider.
   On the eighth day, the mountains loomed ahead. The low, wooded mountain range that bounded Elvart to the south belonged to the home principality of Valria. The border of elven lands was not marked in any way, but before sunset the caravan was met by a group of elven riders. They gave Christina the Second greetings from the forest prince and offered to lead the people through the pass. The duchess, of course, agreed. Valria frowned as she watched their conversation.
   - What, you don't like having someone older than you around? - The master wondered sarcastically. The elf riders looked his age, which meant they were about four hundred or five hundred years old. The captain only snorted in response.
   And soon the journey for the mage was not only peaceful, but pleasant.
   The pass that bisected the mountain range was well traveled, with countless trade wagons stretching across it from the seashore to the Empire and back year round. The elves, of course, had lavished the place with supplies of taverns, stalls, stables, and so on. The Duchess' train had made a long day's stop at the highest point of the pass, and Carlon took advantage of the respite to break his own commandment to never trade with elves. A shop adorned with a carved sign, "Gifts of Kan," caught his eye. Elven god Kan patronized healers, and his gifts were called all sorts of medicinal herbs, mushrooms, and moss by the pointed-eared forest dwellers. The mage decided for himself that the risk of going broke justified the benefit - here for sure he could find in fresh form some ingredients that are usually sold dried. Mentally preparing himself for a fierce bargain, the wizard crossed the threshold of the shop... and found that the bargainers inside were already bargaining without him. One of the girl guardsmen was arguing with the young, snub-nosed elf behind the counter. Carlon only knew her by name. Lady Maria was a tall but thin blonde with almost white hair, very pale delicate skin, and, unexpectedly, bright blue eyes. She was half a head taller than her sisters and had the longest hairstyle among them - her straight hair fell below her shoulder blades in a ponytail. He'd exchanged a few words with the blue-eyed lady over the past week, nothing more. Now, he was astonished to realize that she was trying to buy the ingredients for a simple heartburn potion. She didn't have enough money for the whole kit, solely because the elfish saleswoman had jacked up the price fivefold.
   - Let me advise you, lady... - Carlon said politely, standing beside the guardswoman. The ensuing quarter of an hour was a battle, where the wizard had to use all his knowledge of alchemy, herbology, and continental pricing. Even so, the only thing that saved him was the fact that the elfess was slightly older than Valria, and not yet very experienced in her craft. In the end, the price for the Lady Maria was tripled, and the master had enough money to buy the rare toadstool root of the north. Outside, the Lady Mary, clutching the bundle of purchases to her chest, said to Carlon:
   - Please accept my gratitude, Master. I... don't know much about trade. We rarely have to buy things ourselves. You've just helped me out.
   - It was nothing, - the mage smiled. - Pleasure to help. What do you want with the alchemical goods, by any chance?
   - They are not for me. Sir Roland has a stomach ache, but he tries to hide it. I noticed, so I thought I'd sneak him a potion at the next resting place. Let him drink it while no one's looking.
   The two old guardsmen from the dead duke's guard were now leading a cavalry escort. Each led half a hundred reithars - heavy riders, armed and trained at the expense of the duchy's treasury. Reithars were the pride of Elvart, in the last war the duchy fielded two cavalry corps of five hundred men each.
   - And who will prepare the medicine? - The mage inquired as he and the girl made their way toward the inn, which was occupied by Christina's retinue. - Ask the court healer?
   - If Sir Roland does not wish to involve him, neither will I. - A faint smile crossed the lady guardsman's pale lips. The mage barely noticed it. - It is not difficult for me to do myself. There will be time at night, after duty...
   - You can make potions? - The wizard raised his eyebrows. His surprise might have offended the girl, but he could not help it. It was seldom that Carlon encountered a man capable of something of the sort, and who had never been to a medicine school.
   - Only the healing ones. - Fortunately, Lady Mary paid no attention to his tactlessness. - All guardsmen are taught the basics of first aid from childhood, but I have studied medicine a little deeper than my sisters. I had no magical gift, of course. Combinations of herbs, potions, that sort of thing. It's even more interesting that way. Christina always encouraged my hobby.
   In the lobby of the hotel, the wizard and the guardsman went their separate ways. However, when the cortege set off, they met again at the duchess's carriage. All the way down the pass, Carlon and Lady Maria rode head to head, chatting under Valria's mocking gaze. They had many topics in common. Both were self-taught in the healing arts, the difference being that the girl learned more from books and the wizard from the military healers of various regiments. Several medical treatises from the palace library the guardswoman carried with her, in her swag bags. She turned out to be a wonderful companion - more reserved than Lady Emilia, but well-read and friendly.
   A day later, Carlon saw Lady Maria in the dining hall of another inn and invited her to share the table with him. Over tea and cookies they again talked about potions, herbs and decocts, but by the end of the meal they moved on to more personal topics. As a matter of fact, the Duchess' bodyguard had almost no personal topics, and Karlon was the main one to talk about - fortunately, he had something to tell. Before going to bed, Lady Maria looked into his room and left the magician a book on the treatment of skin ulcers. They discussed it all the next day as they rode side by side again behind Christina's carriage. Valria, who had been fidgeting nearby, listened for about ten minutes to what they were talking about and left with her face turned green and her ears pressed to her head. That same evening, the mage and the guardsman dined alone, not in the common room, but in the room assigned to the master. Day after day, Carlon found himself spending more time in the company of the duke's bodyguard than with the mercenaries. And when it became clear that the lady who was in charge of the duty Emilia specifically assigns Maria only day watch that she remained free in the evenings, the magician felt uncomfortable. Not for long, though. Valria and Dallan kept each other company, and evenings with Lady Maria brightened the mage's monotonous journey. At the end of the day that the elfess lost her wager, the train reached the borders of the Empire, and overnighted in a border town. The Burgomaster had set aside his own mansion for Christina's companions, and in the late afternoon, having finished setting up the alarms, Carlon secluded himself and Maria in a cozy room on the second floor. They were reading a book, sitting on the sofa and touching each other's shoulders, when the girl guardsman suddenly asked, without taking her eyes off the book pages:
   - Carlon, do I seem beautiful to you?
   - You seem beautiful to me, lady, - the mage replied without hesitation. In the first place, that's the only way to answer such questions, and secondly, he was telling the truth. Lady Maria carefully removed the book from her lap, laid the desired page with a cloth strip, and then hugged the master by the shoulders and drew him to her. Their first kiss was brief - the girl pulled away almost immediately, said earnestly, looking Carlon in the eyes:
   - Please don't take this too seriously. We can have a good time, that's all. But it will all be over when the road separates us. We won't owe each other anything. I won't forget about you, of course. You're defending Christine, too...
   - Don't tell me that's what you liked about me, lady, - Carlon grinned crookedly, feeling like a teenager on a first date again.
   - Not only that, - the lady bodyguard answered him with a faint smile. - Don't you worry. But again, don't think about love. If it's difficult for you, we'd better not go on.
   - Everything is all right. - The magician gently stroked the soft hair of the girl, not taking his eyes off her bright eyes. - I am hard enough to fulfill your request. But...
   A new kiss prevented him from speaking. Carlon had only time to think that the sofa was too small for two, when Lady Maria yanked him to the floor, on the fluffy white carpet...
  
   Chapter 14
   - Knowledge of medicine can be useful not only to cure people, - Lady Maria whispered in Carlon's ear as they lay, tired and happy, snuggled together on the carpet. - By studying anatomy, you learn how best to hurt a man, to kill him, to disarm him... or how to make him feel good.
   - You should know, lady, how people sometimes use magic for purposes other than its intended use... - smiled the master. Even now they addressed each other formally - so that they wouldn't make the mistake later, in public.
   - It will be an interesting experience for me. Shall we try something? - The girl's pale lips also touched a smile. The guardswoman always smiled the same way, barely noticeable. Not particularly pretty, not too warm - a world away from Lady Emilia's sunny smile. Carlon didn't care. He admired Maria's face in the moonlight falling from the high window. And he thought that Valria was perhaps prettier, Dallan brighter, Emilia sweeter, and there was some special attraction in Lady Jana, unusual and exotic. But not one of them did the mage ever want to kiss. Especially Valria. But Maria did. And he kissed her immediately, since nothing prevented him from doing so. For a while, they found themselves busy again. Afterwards, the mage dozed off, hugging the girl from behind, his nose against the back of her neck. He had no recollection of the Guardsmen visiting the baths during their stops, but the Lady Maria appeared fresh and clean, as if just out of a hot bath, and her hair smelled faintly of something floral. The girl's blue beret, tossed on the couch, glowed faintly with magic when Carlon closed his eyes - it probably explained everything...
   The guardswoman left an hour before dawn. She gave the master a long kiss and dressed very leisurely, giving him the last chance to admire her thin frame, long slender legs, and high firm breasts. Carlon did not lie down on the couch, being left alone, but instead opened the window and looked at the fading stars until he was completely frozen. The mage could not read the constellations, but it seemed to him that the stars were winking and trying to say something - but the voices were inaudible because of the distance. In the morning, when the cortege set out on the road, he and Maria acted as if nothing had changed. They still tried to ride side by side whenever possible, still chatted about magic and healing. But the sleepless night was taking its toll - the Master was finding it increasingly difficult to keep up with the conversation, his thoughts confused. The girl noticed this and delicately put the conversation to rest. It was her turn to ride at the door of the duke's carriage, so Carlon fell a little behind. Rocking his saddle, he began to doze off, but Valria, riding quietly up behind him, folded her palms into a funnel, whistled right into his ear. The wizard, who had not expected such treachery, almost fell at his own horse's feet, but the elfess caught his elbow in time. She said, smirking:
   - You've relaxed. And if an enemy had attacked?
   - I would have died, - Master did not argue.
   - But happy, at least. - The captain pushed him on the shoulder. - Traitor.
   - I don't understand. Do you have plans for me, or are you jealous? - Carlon raised his eyebrows.
   - I want my personal mage to be able to sleep and fight. Once, all right, but don't go back to sleep every night. - Valria wagged a finger at him. - Well, I'm jealous, too. When a pretty girl has such long legs, and at that height, she can use them...
   Dallan, who had joined the mage and the elfess, silently reached out and snatched the hat from Valria's head and placed it in her lap.
   - Hey! - the elf said indignantly. The sergeant clutched the hat with her palm, not letting her take it back. And Carlon thought that they all got a little too relaxed. Even the perpetually collected and serious Dallan. A brief raid in the Deadlands came to his mind. Back then, all three of them had been alert, day and night, and had behaved very differently. The trip in the duke's cortege, with overnight stays on padded beds, surrounded by a crowd of soldiers, had stripped them of all vigilance. It was not perceived as a mission - more like entertainment. It could have ended badly.
   Meanwhile, Christina's escort doubled in size. The caravan was met by a squadron of clibanaries, imperial raiders who had not only their riders armored, but their horses as well. The squadron had left Garlont, the Imperial capital, a few days ago, and was carrying a cage of carrier pigeons. One pigeon headed back immediately, carrying a letter from the commander of the clibanarians to the imperial palace.
   A final stop awaited the train a day's march from its destination. In the sunset rays before the travelers grew a black-stone castle - judging by the architecture, built centuries ago, when guns did not yet reign on the battlefield.
   - This is the property of Count Cyril Konstaninakis, - said Duchess Christina, looking out the carriage window. - My kinsman by father. That's someone I don't want to visit, but I have to.
   - Did something happen between you two? - Valria asked in her most polite tone a tactless question.
   - Not personally, - the Duchess sighed. - The Earl's sons were all officers in the Reithar corps and died in the war. He quarreled with my father, sold all his possessions in Elvart, and left here. I don't think he would be happy to see me. But I can't ignore him, it would be too rude. Besides, Cyril is in his seventies. After his death, the castle will go to me - the Count has no closer relatives. The castle, as far as I know, is dilapidated, but Elvart could use a piece of land in the Empire.
   As it turned out an hour later, Her Highness was even understating it. There was a village leaning against the black walls, surprisingly small and impoverished, given the proximity of the capital. The castle itself, to all appearances, was supported solely by the talent of ancient architects. There were no sentries visible between the scratched battlements, the chains of the folding bridge were covered with rust, except that the ditch with water was kept in good order. It was not even the seneschal of the castle surrounded by guards who rode out to greet the honored guests, but a lonely elderly servant. Stammering and forgetting words, he handed the young duchess an invitation to a dinner in her honor. However, the servant added, the count has to apologize - he has very little money, so the table can be covered only for a few people.
   - His lordship need not be alarmed. - Christina the Second gave the servant a gracious smile. - My men will stand at rest in the village and provide for themselves.
   Letting the old man go, she turned to Valria and Carlon and said:
   - Well, that's what I was talking about. Father's cousin is no more excited about our meeting than I am. Let's not make him angry. I'll take three of you, four guardsmen and Sir Roland. You're not going as guards, you're going as my guests. Lady Valria is a noblewoman without a title, as I recall?
   - Imperial, - the elfess nodded. - A personal noblewoman without the right to inherit nobility.
   - Well, you will be my companion tonight, and the master and sergeant are your entourage.
   - You won't even take your maid of honor and secretary, Your Highness? - Carlon inquired.
   - If the Earl has no men to serve at the table, one of my guards will handle it. - Christina squinted. - My girls have not only been trained to fight, Master. They know etiquette, and the Lady Maria, for instance, dances beautifully. Invite her over sometime, if you get the chance, and see for yourself.
   Carlon had enough self-control not to blush. But he breathed a sigh of relief when the Duchess left.
   - I think Her Highness seriously expects her cousin to try to stab her during dinner. - Valria snorted, rubbing her chin. - I'll change my gloves for parade gloves...
   Konstantinakis' castle looked even worse from inside. Some time ago it was rebuilt inside, adding a stone staircase and two four-story wings to the round central tower-donjon. These rectangular buildings, which were connected to the donjon, were not yet dilapidated, and the tower itself loomed menacingly over the courtyard. But the rest of the castle was in danger of crumbling to rubble or wood chippings at the blast of the wind. Carlon lowered his eyelids and began to see a greenish glow along the walls. The fortress amulets were still working, though they could use a boost. A fading greenish glow was visible through the thick walls of the main tower, which were probably the Earl's chambers, additionally protected from magic and otherworldly foes.
   The servants - this time young and rather unkemptly dressed - first led the guests to the south wing. They were given half a dozen rooms on the second floor, and the Duchess' apartments were no different from the rest. This was an insult, but Christina the Second did not show it - before she let the servants go, she had Lady Emilia give them a coin each. In addition to the little brown-eyed girl and the huge black-bearded Sir Roland, the ruler of Elvart was accompanied by Maria and two redheaded twins from the Guard - Lady Adela and Lady Kaya. Carlon had somehow expected the twins to have consonant names, and was foolishly disappointed when they were introduced. They were not allowed to settle in for long - when darkness fell and torches began to be lit on the walls, an elderly servant acquaintance showed up to escort them all to dinner. It was a long walk since the great hall was situated in the third floor of the opposite wing.
   - Your Highness, I would advise you to leave the castle after dinner and spend the night in the escort's camp, - Valria suggested as they made their way down the long, damp corridors. She made no attempt to lower her voice, despite the presence of the earl's servant.
   - It hardly seems justified, - Christina protested in a polite tone. - But I will consider your suggestion, lady.
   The main dining hall of the castle was a circular room with a high ceiling and blank walls. The walls were decorated with numerous carpets, tapestries, draperies - dark from dampness and age. Long tables, capable of holding forty persons, were lined up in a U-shape, the open end of which faced the only entrance. At the other end, on a high carved armchair, sat the owner, a dry bald old man, as decrepit in appearance as his dwelling.
   - Hello, Christine, my girl, - he greeted the Duchess of Elvart in an unexpectedly young voice. - Forgive me for not standing up in your presence, my knees are quite weak.
   The faces of the guardsmen darkened. Sir Roland frowned, one of the redheaded twins even put her palm on the hilt of her sword. But the duchess replied with a smile:
   - Of course, Count, I understand. Sit down, it's all right.
   - Then you sit down too, and quickly. Warming the food again is a waste of firewood, and I have not enough.
   Christina was given a place of honor next to the master of the castle, the mercenaries were seated a little farther away. Emilia and Sir Roland stood behind their mistress, the remaining guardsmen lined up along the wall, where they froze as only they could. Dinner began in an unpleasant atmosphere. The Earl and Duchess exchanged idle small talk, with Sir Cyril failing to watch his tongue and constantly balancing on the edge of open boorishness. Only two young servants served simple meals. Carlon noticed that over each plate served, Her Highness passed her right hand, then looked intently at the ring adorning her hand. The Master could sense no magic in the ring, but it looked as if it must somehow reveal the poison in the food. It was clear from the way Christina deliberately made these checks that she was not really afraid of poison, but was simply responding gracefully to her kinsman's rudeness. In the end, after taking an especially large sip of wine from the dull gold cup, the master coughed so that the servant had to hit him on the back.
   - Please forgive me... - the earl squeezed through his cramped chest. - But I must... take my leave. Enjoy... without me...
   The servants led the lord out of the hall under his arms and closed the high double doors behind them. There was a clang on the other side. The redheaded twins glanced at each other and dashed for the door. They jerked the handles without hesitation. The doors didn't budge. And then Carlon realized, belatedly, that the guests were alone.
   - I didn't think he'd really dare... - the Duchess began quietly. Master couldn't hear the end of the sentence as a wave of cold swept over him, as if he'd been caught naked in a winter wind with torrents of snow. The mage gasped, closed his eyes and saw only a blinding white light that veiled his inner vision.
   - Beware! - He shouted hoarsely, jumping up and overturning a chair. But he could not say what to beware of, because he himself did not understand it yet. It took him a few seconds to realize it. In several places in the refectory, ghostly swamp lights lit up, and around them began to thicken columns of gray fog - still slim.
   - Everyone to the center of the room! Follow me! - The mage bellowed, leaping across the table and picking up the large china salt-cellar. - It's a summons! Demons are summoned into the room!
   The middle of the hall remained free of the swamp lights for now, and, standing precisely in the center, the master began hastily pouring a circle of salt there. Wide enough to accommodate nine people. And the misty pillars, gradually taking on clearer and clearer shapes, reached out for the men. Sir Roland grabbed the Duchess by the shoulders and practically threw her over the tabletop. Together with her, Emilia, and Maria, he rushed toward the master. But Valria was the first to run up to him - holding a salt shaker in each hand.
   - What's to be done? - She asked briefly.
   - We draw a circle on the floor.
   - Copy that. - Without further ado, the elfess tossed a single salt-cellar to Dallan and knelt beside him. Mage was laboriously drawing a thin white line, his scruff feeling the cold from the approaching creatures. He didn't have time. Just sprinkling salt on the floor wasn't an option; the mage needed a clean, solid line. And the demons, not yet fully out in the world of the living, were drawn irresistibly toward humans. The two creatures sailed through the air toward the twins, cut off from the others, and the mage had already decided that the redheaded girls were finished. But he underestimated the guardsmen. Lady Adela was the first to rip the thin silver chain from her belt, Kaya followed suit a moment later. The air rumbled as a shimmering circle appeared before Adela. The girl spun the chain in front of her with such speed that it became impossible to see. And the nearest demon staggered back, backing away from the whistling silver. With these shields of sorts, the twins paced through the hall. Chains also appeared in the hands of their sworn sisters. The Lady Maria stood beside Carlon, ready to protect him and Valria, Emilia drove the too bold demon away from Christina. When the red-headed guardsmen reached the center of the refectory, the mage closed the circle at one end, the elfess at the other. Carlon touched the salt with his fingertips, uttered a short magical formula, and poured a bolt of energy into the circle at once. He squeezed his eyes shut to see if it worked. It worked. The uneven but unbroken circle of salt glowed with white flame to the inner eye. And another circle of exactly the same flame encompassed the entire perimeter of the room. And beneath the carpets covering the floor, a different kind of line burned - purple, intertwined in an intricate pattern.
   - You damned bastard, - the mage hissed, as he straightened.
   - What on earth is going on, master? - The Duchess asked him. So calmly, as if she'd caught the wizard doing something harmless, like playing paper boats in the palace fountain. She did not look frightened. - Did you get it yet?
   - The whole room is a great circle of summoning, a gateway to the underworld. - Carlon said grimly, looking around. - One-way. Someone let a bunch of demons in here and locked them in with us. I didn't notice anything, because the lines weren't energized until the last second. So the demonologist is out there somewhere. He activated the protective circle and performed the summoning ritual as soon as the Count came out into the hallway. The demons would drink the life out of us if we hesitated. A clever trap. Swords and armor cannot defend against such a threat.
   - But you saved us, master.
   - Perhaps not for long. And the Lady Guards helped me. What's with the chains? It's a superstition, isn't it, that silver drives away evil spirits?
   - It's not the silver itself, it's the amulets. - The Lady Maria handed the master her chain of thin links, with a round weight on the end. Carlon had seen them on guard belts before, but he'd considered them mere decoration. - There was little magic in them so it did not weaken from their proximity to the steel armor. There is no way to exorcise or disembowel such a demon, only to frighten.
   - We're safe now, relatively. - The mage bit his lip. Around the invisible wall that rose from the salt circle, a dozen or two demons had gathered. They had finally formed their etheric bodies. Not completely material, but allowing them to interact with the mortal world. The bodies looked... peculiar. Some looked human, some looked like a bundle of long thin arms, fastened to an invisible core, some looked like a miniature dragon. The weakest of the demons were not fully formed, and the objects behind them peered through their shaky gray carcasses. The creatures made snapping and clanking noises that sounded like they were coming from a deep well.
   - They can't get into the circle, we can't get out, eh. - Valria's ears twitched. The elven woman stood at the very barrier, her palm on the sheath of her sword, the only weapon she had. The girl had left the crossbows in the room. - The escort would stir in the morning. If the Earl is in on the plot, he might spit something to them and buy more time. One good thing, the human killers won't come here, either, most likely. They'll be gone by dawn, won't they?
   - No, - the mage shook his head. - It's the sunlight they fear, not the coming of day. There are no windows in the room. Well, they'll be weaker in the daytime, but that won't do us much good.
   - So we can only wait, - Christina sighed.
   But the otherworldly creatures didn't let them wait patiently for help to come. Once they realized that their prey was beyond the impenetrable barrier, the demons became frantic. They scurried around the dining hall, beating on the outer protective ring, knocking the wind out of them. Then the creatures gathered in a horde around the food trays and started flying through them, making them jump and quiver. The mage didn't immediately understand why they were doing this. But then a jug of wine tipped over on the nearest table. Another followed by another, then a bowl of oil... Wine, oil, milk, and other liquids poured onto the floor.
   - Lady Emilia. - Gritting his teeth, Carlon turned to the little girl, pointed to the rapidly spreading puddles. - Get your chains ready. If the salt washes out...
   And it looked like it was going to. The puddles, a mixture of everything liquid that was on the tables, were getting wider and wider, threatening to touch the salt circle. The girl guardsmen huddled together in a group of gleaming silver armor, shielding Christina with their bodies. Each took a sword in her right hand and an amulet in her left. Valria and Dallan drew their blades as if that would do more to help them. Sir Roland - huge, bearded, in black mourning armor - drew an axe from a leather ring on his belt. He muttered:
   - When the circle is broken, I'll try to cut through the door. Have the girls cover me and Christina. Then just run from the room.
   - Good plan, sir, - the Duchess said softly. - I'll make a correction to it.
   Christina stepped forward, spreading her bodyguards apart, and placed her right hand clenched in a fist against her chest. She spoke loudly and clearly:
   - I call upon the oath.
   For a second or two nothing happened. Then, one step in front of the duchess, the air began to thicken. There was exactly the same column of mist as when the demon appeared, only without the swamp fire inside. The gray blob grew denser, taking on the form of a slender female figure. Colors other than gray appeared. Carlon saw more and more details. Recognizable details. Brown skin. Short black hair. A blue guardsman's uniform. Soft brown thighhigh boots. Silver cuirass with shoulder pads, the same armlets and gauntlets. A blue cloak slung over her shoulders... Finally taking her form, the guardswoman drew a narrow, straight sword from its sheath and saluted the duchess and her companions. Meeting her gaze with the master, she smiled at him. This smile, seen only once before, dispelled the last doubts.
   - Lady Jana... - he astonished mage exhaled.
   The black-haired girl seemed woven of rare smoke and dense air, her yellow lynx eyes faintly glowing with golden fire. And yet it was, beyond all doubt, Lady Jana. Not just her illusory image - the look in her burning eyes was completely meaningful and familiar.
   The girl, woven out of thin air, turned to face the rampaging creatures. She stepped toward the invisible barrier. Raising her left hand, she clenched her thin, silver-clad fingers into a fist. Carlon understood her. Falling to his knees, he slashed the salt line with the edge of his palm. The snapping and grunting of the creatures became a roar, and the disembodied swarm rushed into the breach. Where Lady Jana awaited them. The ghostly blade of a dead guard sliced off the long-fingered paw of the swiftest demon as though it were flesh and blood. The demon shook, staggered backward with a croak. Wasting no time, Jana leaped into the midst of the creatures and whirled there, wielding her sword furiously.
   - Roland, Adela, Kaya! - In a truly commander's voice, the Duchess of Elvart shouted. The old knight and the redheaded twins jumped out of the protective circle, which Carlon closed behind them again. Without interruption, Sir Roland ran to the door and brought his axe down upon the flaps. The twins stood behind him, spinning silver chains - several demons, distracted by Lady Jana, rushed toward the men who had left the circle. Just in time. The ghost guard fought the demons equally - but there were twenty of them against one. Only the yellow-eyed girl's lifetime combat skills helped her to withstand the many foes. On her arms and cuirass appeared shimmering white light scars - marks from the touch of otherworldly monsters. Jana retreated, dragging her enemies behind her, but it was clear that in a matter of seconds she would be crushed.
   - Ehk... ehk! - Sir Roland, with a grunt, finally broke through the oak sash. With two more blows he smashed the outer bolt, kicked the door open... Crossbows clicked. Three arrows struck the old knight in the chest, piercing the thin black cuirass like a sheet of paper, the fourth hit the lady Adela in the back, entering under the left shoulder pad, two more did not reach their targets. Half a dozen of the earl's servants, waiting in the corridor with crossbows at the ready, hurried to reload their weapons. Not in time. A triple blow to the chest forced Sir Roland to retreat a step back, but the black-bearded knight, coughing up blood, raised his axe above his head and with a full swing dropped it... on the threshold of the refectory, immediately collapsing beside it. The pack of demons that had surrounded Lady Jana suddenly forgot about her, rushing to the door. Lady Kaya, grabbing her wounded sister, jumped aside with her, and the otherworldly horde rushed past them into the corridor. The savage screams of demon-eating servants lasted only half a minute, and then there was a dead silence in the dining hall.
   Sir Roland stretched across the threshold, showing no signs of life. The redheaded Lady Kaya was hugging her sister tightly. The others were still standing inside the salt circle, useless because one edge of it had already been washed away by the drinks spilled from the tables. Carlon swallowed, closing his eyes to confirm his hunch. Yes, the outer circle of protection was gone, too. Cutting through the threshold, the old knight let the demons out of the room, and they went in search of easier prey.
   Lady Jana silently approached the duchess, again saluting with her sword. She smiled tiredly at Carlon, nodded to him. And then she scattered silver dust, instantly melted into the air...
  
   Chapter 15
   Master cautiously looked out the door. The corridor was empty, with only the corpses of the earl's servants lying in a lurch. On the faces of the seemingly unharmed dead there was a grimace of horror - demons don't inflict physical wounds, they drink the very life of a man. The invisible, insensible "glue" that binds the soul to the body.
   There was a muffled cry coming from somewhere behind the wall. It seemed that the creatures that had broken free had taken on the other inhabitants of the castle. Carlon shuddered, kneeling hastily beside Sir Roland's body. The old knight no longer needed help, but the mage still searched his neck for a pulse. When he couldn't find it, he leaned over the threshold. He chuckled when he saw the copper band with the magical insignia carved into the metal. So that's how it was. The protective circle was closed not by the doors of the Hall, but by the threshold. To close the magical barrier with the blown shutters would be easy and convenient, but not reliable. Someone had been very thorough in their preparations for the assassination attempt. Unfortunately for them, Sir Roland was clever - not being a mage, he knew what to do, and with his final blow he sliced through the brass band, breaking the barrier. But Carlon was a fool. He could, after all, have seen the line on the threshold when he entered the hall...
   Lady Kaya walked past the wizard. She stopped in the middle of the corridor and glanced to the right and to the left, keeping her sword and her amulet at the ready. The mage turned around. A frowning Maria was examining the wound of the other twin. The duchess, accompanied by Lady Emilia and the mercenaries, was pacing toward him. She was clearly about to speak to Carlon, but at that moment something in the castle courtyard crackled and rattled deafeningly. The mage darted toward one of the windows that cut into the wall of the corridor.
   - What is it? - Valria asked, standing beside him.
   - The gateway is closed, the bars drawn down. - Mater pressed his lips together tightly. - They are raising the bridge.
   - And the sentries? - Dallan inquired. She stood on the other side of the mage. It was impossible for the three of them to see through one narrow window, so the mage stepped aside to make room for the girls.
   - The doors are locked, so are the entrances to the gatehouses, - the eagle-eyed elf answered for the mage. - Like a siege.
   - So we got out of the trap into the trap, - Emilia wrapped the amulet chain around her palm and clenched fist. While Lady Kaya kept a watchful eye on one end of the corridor, the tiny girl watched the other. But no one was in any hurry to finish what they had begun. Creepy shouts came from all directions, which was unnerving, but suggested that the castle's servants were no longer concerned with guests. - Perhaps all of Sir Cyril's men were involved in the conspiracy. To get out of the castle we would have to break through the inner rooms, the courtyard, break into the towers, seize the lifting mechanism, open the gates, raise the bars, lower the bridge... I don't think we can do that. Even if the Earl has only a few servants capable of fighting, all they have to do is lock themselves in the towers. Master, can you use magic to break down the door?
   - One or two, if they are not lined with iron. - The mage shook his head. - We have bigger problems now. The castle is surrounded by a moat of flowing water, and its walls are protected by fortress amulets. It's all designed to keep demons and ghosts from entering. But now...
   - It won't let them out of here. - Valria whistled softly. - The demons are trapped in the castle, and so are we... Great. A jar full of flies and spiders.
   - We'll get the mistress out of here. - The little brown-eyed lady said it as if she was stating a fact. - If we can't open the gate, we'll find a rope and let Christina down from the wall. The escort should be moving, they'll meet her on the other side and help her across... We need to find an unlocked tower or other way to the crest of the wall. The sooner the better.
   - On the other hand, I would suggest we take our time, - Valria protested, turning to the Duchess. Carlon saw the violet lights in her eyes, and snorted:
   - Thinking up something idiotic, are you?
   - On the contrary, I want to be careful, - the girl pretended to take offense. - Carlon, you said demons are afraid of the sun's rays, right?
   - Yes. It burns their etheric bodies.
   - The donjon has an open area upstairs. - Without taking her eyes off Christine, the elfess pulled up her parade suede gloves, adorned with black embroidery. - The tower is tall; the sun will light up its peak before anything else. And there must be only one entrance to the platform. The assassins must be waiting for us downstairs and in the courtyard. And the demons are where more people are right now. Also downstairs. No one thinks we're going up.
   For a few seconds everyone was silent, digesting what they'd heard. Lady Maria and Adela emerged from the trashed dining hall. Maria had stripped her wounded sister of her shoulder pads, removed the arrow, bandaged her pierced shoulder, and now the redheaded girl acted as if nothing had happened. Except for putting the sword in its scabbard and taking the chain of amulet in her healthy hand.
   - We'll go up to the upper ground, fortify ourselves there, and wait until morning, - Lady Emilia finally understood the elf's thoughts. - Maybe we can make some sort of connection with the escort behind the wall. And in the daylight we'll go down to the courtyard and deal only with live enemies. Yes, I agree with that plan.
   - We'll have to fortify ourselves against demons, too. - Carlon rubbed the bridge of his nose with force. It looked disrespectful in front of the Duchess of Elvart, but the master decided that the extraordinary circumstances excused him. - Your Highness, may I know what we all saw in the hall? The words you spoke there were not a spell, they were just words. But after them the ghost of Lady Jana appeared, in a very clear manifestation. She looked perfectly alive. And she acted... consciously. There are no ghosts in their senses, it is against their very nature. What was that, Your Highness?
   - You saw the little secret of all the ruling houses of old Daert, Master. - The Duchess met the mage's gaze, and Carlon barely averted his eyes. - The traditions of the personal guard are very ancient, and the oath of the guard was written in the days when oaths had real power. In fact, the oath is a magical ritual. The guard mixes his blood with that of his suzerain and swears to serve him until his death. Until the death of his lord, not his own. The death of a Guardian does not release him from his oath.
   - So... the souls of dead guardsmen cannot enter the Creator's gardens as long as their lord lives? - Carlon was dumbfounded. And apparently so was Valria - she opened her mouth to say something, but at the last moment she changed her mind.
   - Of course they can. - Christina the Second suddenly smiled. - No magic can prevent the Creator from summoning a soul to his throne. The Guardian's oath is simply a... a request for reprieve. Usually this request is granted - if the guardian was a worthy man. Jana herself wants to be with me after she dies. And she has been allowed to do so. Any of her sisters would want the same. Doesn't it?
   - Yes, - Lady Emilia replied. She didn't even turn around, continuing to watch her end of the corridor.
   - Yes, - the other girls in blue and silver echoed her.
   - Is she here now? - asked the master. - Jana, I mean.
   - She'll be here if we need her.
   - And she can protect us from the demons?
   - No better than you could see. - Stopping smiling, the duchess sighed. - The oath doesn't grant any special powers in the afterlife. It only allows you to keep your identity and memory intact.
   - Then we'll have to manage on our own. - Master put his hand on Valria's shoulder. - Captain, do you smell food?
   - The smell from the refectory is overpowering. - The elven girl grinned, wiggling her pointy ears. - But if we step back a bit, I'll lead you to the kitchen, wherever it's hiding.
   - Your Highness, captain Valria and I will search for salt to create a barrier on the roof of the donjon, - Carlon told the Duchess. - You and the guardsmen move to the wing passageway in the tower. I'm sure it's locked, but wait for us there anyway. If anything forces you to leave, leave some sign.
   - Very well, master, - Christina nodded.
   - And here's the other thing. I could use one of those amulets. I have demon countermeasures, but they're... one-time use, so to speak.
   - Take mine. - The Lady Maria took a step toward Carlon and placed a silver chain in his palm. She squeezed his fingers lightly with hers before letting go of his hand. Girl smiled only with her eyes. The mage felt the urge to call the girl with him, but he held back. Instead he asked:
   - And you yourself...?
   - My sisters will not let me offend, - Maria answered seriously, without a smile.
   The mage picked up Sir Roland's axe and weighed it in his hand. It was a bit heavy, and the blade had chipped while the knight was chopping at doors, but it was better than a sword. Carlon wasn't much of a swordsman, but he'd always wielded an axe in combat. Valria, too, examined the crossbows scattered across the floor, kicked one with her boot and grimaced. The crossbows were all wall-mounted or siege weapons - not something you could carry for long, especially if you were a delicate, graceful Elf. Fixing the sword's armband, the girl said to her sergeant:
   - Dallan, keep an eye on them.
   She waved a hand at Carlon to indicate she was ready to go.
   The two of them jogged down the corridor, not changing to running. The old castle was not a hospitable place, and now it had become a trap, dangerous even for its owner. The mage glanced behind him with eyes closed, and through his drooping eyelids, he saw the greenish glimmer behind the keep's walls grow brighter. The defenses of the Earl's private quarters had been put on alert, but it didn't look particularly impressive. Carlon couldn't even vouch for the fact that the inner fail-safes were sufficiently strong to withstand the dawn.
   - I hope that formal execution freed Dallan from her foolish oath, - Valria, striding first, said unexpectedly aloud. - I shudder to think of her going back to serving that bony moose after her death.
   - Only if Dallan wants too, - the master reminded her, ignoring her majesty's insult. It wasn't the best moment to speak, but he could see that his golden-haired companion was trembling with anger - apparently she'd been trying very hard to contain herself for the past few minutes.
   - And she will, - the elf girl snarled, twirling her sword. They'd reached the end of the gallery and turned left into the annexe wing. There were no more windows, all the light coming from the old-fashioned torches crackling in the wall brackets. - For years I've taught her to value herself, to think of herself, but she's... too much of a fairy knight.
   Mater gave an indefinite chuckle. Valria, on the other hand, stopped abruptly, threw her head back, pulled her nose. She said:
   - Blood, grease, oil... Not fresh... Right below us. Looking for stairs.
   A side corridor led them to the stairs, where the bodies of two servants lay. No wounds on the dead men - meaning the demons had done their work. Carlon lowered the chain from his palm so that the silver weight dangled from his wrist. Only when he touched the amulet with his bare palm could he feel the movement of magical energy in it - so little was there. But Maria was right; something stronger would not have survived the steel of the guardsmen's armor.
   - Wait. - When they made it up the two flights of stairs and onto the square landing on the second floor, Valria raised her hand in warning. She wiggled her long ears like a horse. - I hear footsteps...
   - Mrrr-rya! - A black cat with a long woolly tail leaped out of the dark stone archway that led to the gallery. He slipped under the elfin's feet and galloped up the stairs. After the cat, a man appeared in the archway. A stout man in the simple clothes of a castle servant clumsily crossed the threshold, staggered. With difficulty maintaining his balance, he stared at Carlon and Valria with an empty, meaningless stare. He opened his mouth and let out something between a croak and a hiss. Valria shifted to cover the mage, raised her sword - but the maestro grabbed her by the shoulder:
   - Possessed! His...
   The man snapped from his seat so suddenly that Carlon, who had been expecting such a thing, barely had time to push the girl out of his way and recoil himself. Like a cannonball, the possessed man whizzed between the mage and the elf, striking the stone railing of the stairs, leaping off them and leaping toward Valria, his clumsiness vanishing without a trace. The Captain, however, was not slow either. With a swift stroke, she severed three fingers from the possessed man's outstretched hand, letting her foe pass her by.
   - He feels no pain! - The master cautioned, gripping the shaft of the axe with both palms of his hands. Valria heard him. When the possessed man turned and lunged at the elfess again, she met him with a direct thrust. The sword blade halfway entered the man between the ribs, piercing his heart. The possessed man jerked forward, sliding onto the elfess's sword, continuing to pull his arms toward the girl. The man's fingers touched the captain's cheek... when Carlon, who came up behind him, sliced him with his axe heartily. The first blow failed to sever the man's neck, so the wizard yanked the point from his foe's flesh and struck again. The decapitated body tumbled sideways, tearing the hilt of the sword from Valria's hands. Master looked back at the opening, but no new guests awaited. The elven woman, on the other hand, pulled a blue and white handkerchief from her vest pocket and wiped a few drops of blood from her cheek. With a little gasp she inquired:
   - Will there be more of these?
   - Where there's one, there's ten, - the mage said sullenly. - The weakest demons are unable to create ethereal bodies, so they take possession of humans or animals whenever possible. It's a rare occurrence, since they want the bodies intact, but... left by the soul. This is why the little ones usually ride the tails of the stronger ones. That's exactly what they produce.
   A gray smoke began to rise over the headless body. Master unwrapped the chain of his guardsman's amulet and dispersed the cloud like ordinary tobacco smoke. He stated:
   - This one won't come back. But I can't vouch for how many more there are.
   - Couldn't you have called it in ahead of time? - Kneeling down, Valria freed the blade of her sword from the possessed man's corpse. - If such a one were to show up at the duchess and the others while we're gone?
   - Usually the weak demons only crawl out of natural gaps, and when they're summoned, the demonologists try to cut them off so they don't get in the way, - Carlon explained. - I just wasn't thinking... you're right, we should get back and tell the others as fast as we can.
   They did not encounter any new threats in the second floor gallery and risked walking faster.
   - How survivable are these things? - The elfess asked.
   - No more than humans. Demons simply resuscitate the body, as if to substitute the soul. But they don't care about pain or injury. As long as the body can function, they will use it. And if you don't nail a demon on its way out of a corpse, it will find another one.
   - Here! - The girl stopped in front of an inconspicuous boardwalk door. - It smells like food. And... there's someone in there. Ringing something, walking around...
   Without waiting for the master's reaction, the captain kicked the flap open and dived in. All Carlon had to do was to follow her. Beyond the door was the castle kitchen - a long, rectangular room, lined with tables and cabinets, with three large fireplaces along the outer wall. Two women and a boy cook were lying dead in puddles of blood between the tables. And in the open kitchen cupboard a man was rummaging intently, the last person the master would have wished to see here and now. Peter, the assassin from the other world, turned around at the sound of the broken door and raised his eyebrows in surprise... But he had no time to do or say anything. Carlon threw back his axe, snatched from his pocket a thin silver disc, marked with magical signs, broke it, waved the resulting halves, shouting out a full voice activation formula. The cabinet the alien had been digging into snapped out of place and crashed into Peter himself, miraculously not knocking him to the ground. The killer managed to bounce back without letting himself be crushed by the falling cabinet - but two heavy tables flew into the air. One slammed into the alien's left shoulder, and the other would have taken his head off if Peter hadn't collapsed on the floor and rolled over. Unfortunately, that was the end of the amulet's charge, and Karlon shoved the now useless halves of the disk into his pocket - silver can always be melted down.
   With an elbow thrust, the assassin rose to his feet, drew a long straight dagger from its sheath on his belt - not his miracle knife with a firing hilt, but an ordinary imperially forged blade. He threw the weapon from hand to hand and grinned viciously. But Valria stepped toward him. The elfess immediately went on the attack, unleashing a hail of swift lunges on her opponent. The long, heavy sword in the girl's hands flashed with incredible speed. Peter, who had seemed invincible in close combat, staggered backward, barely managing to parry the blows with his dagger. The alien's attempts to counterattack were pathetic - he too was agile and quick, but the Captain skillfully exploited her advantage in blade length. She neither allowed her opponent to approach her, nor rushed to the side to attack her. Twice the tip of the sword touched the assassin's chest, leaving slashes in his gray shirt, the fabric around which immediately darkened. Clearly sensing that he was about to be cornered, Peter leaped to break the distance, intercepted the dagger by the blade, and swung for the throw. Valria instantly switched to a defensive stance, but her opponent threw his weapon not at her, but over the girl's shoulder at Carlon. The elfess still intercepted the dagger in the air with the blade of her sword, knocking it back into the wall. Taking advantage of a second's respite, the alien slipped his hand into his pants pocket. It was Carlon's turn to leap forward and shield Valria. The wizard struck his hands, letting the silver rings on his fingers touch, and then spread his arms apart, stretching the translucent membrane of the magical shield before him. The black object that appeared in Peter's hand spit fire, a shot rang out... and the bullet rang through the saucepan on the floor. Not because it ricocheted off the master's shield - the assassin had shot himself sideways. He smirked again, and said, stifling his breath:
   - This thing... is called a "pistol." It's called a "Glock 18," actually. It can fire many, many times before it needs to be reloaded.
   - Wonderful thing, - Valria agreed. The girl now stood behind the wizard, with her free hand on his back. She tapped her middle finger lightly, letting him know that she was ready to switch places with the master at any moment.
   - Anyway, don't move, okay? - The killer clicked something on his gun. - When I said I'd see you again, little elf, I didn't think you'd find me. But still, it's good to see you. Got your name, by the way. My employers helped me out.
   - I'm flattered, - the girl replied. Carlon stood there, thinking intensely. The situation was stalemated. Peter could not open fire on them, but the master did not want to get close to the alien. Especially when he had both hands full, and his partner couldn't look out from behind the mage without risk. - Have you ever seen one of these things, with lots of arms and tentacles?
   - I have, - the assassin hummed. Master had no doubt that he, too, was trying to find a way out at the moment. - They don't touch me for some reason. Probably because I'm not from around here. By the way, they're the reason I came here - somebody asked me to go get salt.
   They were silent for half a minute. Then the alien grinned more widely than before:
   - Elfie, do you want an idea? Come with me. I have a job to do - cover a man, and if he fails, I'll finish the job with your Duchess myself. Not a word about you. Back home, they think if you go to a parallel world, you get superpowers and a pretty girl to go with you. But I got some half-wit old man. Come with me and I'll help you get your friends out of here. I'd take those armored beauties out too, but they won't leave without their mistress, as I understand it. Pity, of course.
   - I will consider your suggestion, thank you. - Valria stopped tapping her finger against the mage's back, and the man grew tense. It looked as if the elfess was ready to rush into attack without warning her partner.
   - Think. - The alien stepped back without taking his eyes off the mage or the elf. - We'll decide when we meet again. If you do not agree, I'll kill you. I do not want to do this, but - it's work. The reward is too good.
   With his shoulder blades against the second door, the one reserved for the servants, which led into the back of the building, Peter fumbled for the handle, opened the flap, and disappeared behind it. Carlon mentally counted to ten, then nodded:
   - Let's go.
   The mercenaries ran to the door. The girl swung it open, stepped aside, letting the first mage through, who still held the flickering rectangle of protective field in front of him. The doorway beyond the threshold was empty. The intruder was gone.
   - The bastard's skill at escaping is astounding. - Valria commented grimly as the master curled the field with a sigh of relief and shook his withered fingers. - He must have special schools of combat escape at home.
   - I hope he's wandering through some secret passageway in the walls and doesn't run into our friends, - Carlon said. - They'd have to wait by the doorway to the keep, and that would be where he'd come from. I'd wager his fellows are in the Earl's chambers.
   He and Valria hastily searched the ruined kitchen and soon had five small sacks of salt. They made their way back the same way they'd come. They could not avoid trouble, however. Halfway up the stairs, an odd-looking creature, a square pebble with a dozen arms, some of which served as legs, crawled with some difficulty out of the gallery wall in front of Carlon. After that, another creature crawled out of the gray stones, looking more like a human - at least in number of limbs. The demons crackled, rustled, and whirred as they spotted the man and the elf, and launched themselves at them. The mage dropped his axe, drew a leather pouch from his belt, shook a handful of paper wrappers out of the pouch, blew on them, and threw them at the fiercest creature, the one that looked like a stone with arms. The wrappers flashed with blue fire as they touched the beast's skin. In a second the flames engulfed the entire demon and consumed it almost instantly, to the accompaniment of the dying creature's choking howl. The second monster froze, as if stunned by its comrade's death, and Carlon went for it, unwrapping the amulet chain. It was pure bluff, an attempt to scare him. And it, alas, did not work. With an angry snap, the demon moved toward the wizard.
   A silver-burning, translucent blade struck the creature in the chest, leaving a glowing white wound that caused it to stagger backward. Lady Jana emerged between the master and the monster without any glaring effects, flashes, or sounds. She was nowhere to be seen, and there she was, blocking the demon's path. The girl, who had been created out of thin air, sprang forward with her whole body, ducked under the monster's outstretched paws, stabbed it in the chest again, this time driving the blade to the hilt, yanking the sword up. The demon lowered its long paws, sinking its huge, curved claws into Yana's back. Where the claws pierced the ghost's blue cloak and silver cuirass, the white flames flickered, but Jana reacted in no way. She lashed the sword upward once more and simply hacked the demon's torso apart. Then she lashed out from left to right, blowing its head off. The otherworldly predator crumbled into ashes. The black flakes also vanished before they touched the gallery floor-but the scratched slabs left a charcoal-colored stain, like soot. Lady Jana walked past the stain, sheathing her sword, glancing over her shoulder at the stunned mercenaries. And disappeared as she had appeared - just melted into thin air. There wasn't even a cloud of silver dust this time.
   - Um... Thank you, lady, - Valria exhaled belatedly. Carlon had no doubt that Jana had heard her, though.
  
   Chapter 16
   The screams died down. Apparently, all the inhabitants of the castle, who hadn't gone to feed on demons at once, had hidden themselves away and were as quiet as a mouse. But in the distance horns were faintly blaring and drums were beating. Christina's escort was laying siege to the castle, and the cavalrymen had no way to storm the high, black walls.
   The first thing that caught Carlon's eye when he returned to the third floor was that the corpses of the servants, devoured on the doorstep of the refectory, were gone. So were half their crossbows. What was missing, however, was quickly discovered at the far end of the gallery. A makeshift barricade of chairs and an overturned table blocked the passage. On one side of the flimsy "fortification" lay a pile of cut-up corpses, and on the other was a pair of guardsmen standing guard. Lady Kaya was clutching a loaded crossbow, and two other trophies were leaning against the table, ready to be fired. Lady Maria was armed with a single sword, and it had been shortened by half a finger - the tip had disappeared. Seeing the girl unharmed, the mage perked up, waving to the guards with a silly smile from afar. Valria shooed him away and asked seriously as she approached the barricade:
   - Was there any trouble?
   - Yes, - Maria nodded to the elfess. She turned her gaze to the Master, and he thought he saw a flicker of relief in her bright blue eyes. Maybe he just saw what he wanted to see, though. - The dead rose up and attacked us from behind. No one died, only I broke my blade against the wall. The sisters thought there was a necromancer, but they were wrong. I've read in books about demonic possession, more like it.
   - That's right, lady. - Carlon stepped over the legs of one of the dead men, pushed back a chair that was in the way of getting behind the barricade. Valria simply skipped across the table, barely touching it with the palm of her hand. - I should have warned you ahead of time... Now if you come across an undamaged corpse, stab it through the heart or slit its throat.
   - I'll remember that. Did you make it?
   - We got the salt. - The magician patted one of the pouches in his bulging pocket. - But the bad news is... Where is Her Highness?
   - Around the corner, - Lady Kaya, who had been silent until now, answered in place of Maria. Master heard her voice for the first time, low and velvety.
   - Then we go to her. And here, I return. - Carlon held out her amulet to Maria. She accepted the silver chain with a slight smile. Girl asked:
   - Was it useful?
   - Yes, lady. Very useful.
   The rest of the group waited for them at a dead end, in front of a closed door leading into the donjon. Dallan stood as a column of silver and blue in front of the door, glaring frowning at the padded ironwork of the dark boards. Pale as a sheet, Lady Adela leaned against the wall beside the torch, eyes closed. The band on her shoulder had turned from white to black and red, and her face was streaming with sweat. Little Lady Emilia was talking to her mistress in a half-whisper about something. She greeted the returning mercenaries with the guardsman's signature nod.
   - We have problems. - Immediately told the duchess Valria. - That is, more problems, new ones. In addition to those that have already been.
   She recounted her encounter with Peter in the castle kitchen, and the demons that hunted only one floor below. Then she added:
   - Lady Jana helped us out there, but she left at once. I don't know where.
   - I think she's distracting the demons from the upper floors. - Kristina shifted her eyebrows. - Too bad ghosts don't talk.
   - Well, she understands us, and that's what counts. - Carlon scratched his beard. He chuckled when he found a fingernail sized piece of pie between his fingers. - Things got even more complicated. This Peter saw that we came for the salt, and now he knows that we do not plan to escape the castle, but to defend ourselves somewhere. He might come up with something nasty. And if he's paired with a mage, together their possibilities for sordidness are almost limitless.
   - Our plans change? - Duchess specified.
   - Not really. Judging by the location of magical protection, Count's chambers are one floor above. If we go in here, - Master nodded at the door guarded by the sergeant, - we will be below them. The donjon, though rebuilt, is still a donjon. Every floor in it is a fortress, so the enemies in the Count's rooms can lock us down. I'd suggest going higher and breaking straight up to the private floor anyway, but now I'd also suggest killing the wizard if we meet him there. I'm pretty sure the demonologist, the Count, and other assassination leaders, are sitting there, if there are any. But they may not have any guards with them. All those who have been waiting for us in ambushes around the castle are already dead. If we go through the private chambers, we'll solve some of our problems. Although if Peter and his gun are there, the risk will increase considerably.
   - Well... - Valria stretched, pulling her hat down over her left ear to scratch behind her right one. - I don't see any better option. Your Highness?
   - I agree with the master, - Christina nodded. - Emilia, gather everyone. Prepare for the assault.
   On the way upstairs, the small squad encountered no enemies - no living, no ghosts, no possessed. The fourth floor was uninhabitable, with crumbling cupboards and chests that held all sorts of belongings, from moth-eaten clothes to bronze candlesticks. Closets and chests piled on top of each other occupied every room, even part of the main corridor. What was missing from the floor was a door to the keep. It had been cut through during the construction of the wing, but the doorway was now covered with white bricks. The gallery was a dead end.
   - The Earl is quite paranoid, - Valria remarked as she went to the wall and touched the bricks with her fingers. The brown suede of her glove had gray smudges of dust on it, and the elfess wiped them squeamishly on her pants.
   - Is there anything you can do about it, master? - asked the duchess.
   - I think so. - Carlon, too, put his palm on the cool brickwork and lowered his eyelids. - There is no iron behind the brick. The inner defense only works against intangible threats; it doesn't prevent an explosion. But, of course, the wall is stronger than the door. And also... When the door was here, it closed the circle of inner protection. The node of the circle is still inside the doorway. If I destroy the wall, the circle is irreversibly broken. As it were... the door would remain open, in terms of the system.
   - And the Count's chambers would open to the demons? - Christine rubbed her chin. Her face became exactly like her father's.
   - Yes, Your Highness.
   - Hmm. That's not bad at all. Give me a second. - The ruler of Elvart whispered something, and Carlon shuddered to find Lady Jana standing beside him. The mage moved aside - the ghost's touch could drink away the rest of his strength and cause illness in the future. That the ghost had no wish to harm was irrelevant. - You take care of the wall while I explain something to Jana.
   While the duchess instructed her ghostly protector, the master took two identical amulets from his belted purse. "Fire Discs" - an intricate weave of fine gold wire and a red transparent stone in the center. It was exactly the same one Carlon had used in the basement of the dead fortress - perhaps a hundred years ago. Back then, the explosion of the amulet had diverted the attention of his enemies, giving the mage's companions a chance to attack. Now it was time to use the "Disks" for what they were intended. The wall of the donjon would not be breached by the amulets, of course. But they could beat masonry, even double masonry.
   Whistling a soldier's song under his breath, Karlon chewed some tar and used it to glue the "Fire Discs" to the brick, one at the bottom of the former opening and one at the top. With a piece of charcoal, he began to draw an elongated oval encompassing both amulets. Out loud, he remarked, unhappily:
   - I'm running out of tricks.
   - I'm amazed at how much stuff you carry in your pockets anyway, - said Valria, eyeing him with a smirk. - If you'd had your belt on you, we'd probably have gone out the front door.
   - Done. - He set the charcoal down, and stepped back, peering closely at the pattern that held the amulets together. - As soon as I cast the spell, the door will reappear. The force of the blast would go one way, and the debris would go the same way, so all we had to do was step back. But... I figure... I'd have to use most of my energy for the blast. I'll save some for the salt barrier, that's all. No magic for the next 24 hours, and just standing up will be hard.
   - Don't worry. - Valria gently took the mage by the elbow. - I'll carry you.
   - You? Me?
   - Well, at least I won't leave you alone. If I can't lift you, I'll lie down beside you.
   - Master Carlon has proven himself many times today, - Duchess Christina said in an unexpectedly formal tone. - Our survival depends on his knowledge and skills. Therefore... Maria.
   - Yes, Madam.
   - From now on, I entrust the master to your care. My salvation depends on his life, so consider that by protecting him, you are protecting me. Stay by his side, protect him, and if necessary, die for him. Those are my orders.
   - Yes, ma'am. - The blue-eyed girl put hand to her heart and bowed her head.
   - Aha... - Valria squinted her eyes and put her ears perked up. - So this is how Guardswomen get married. Well, Carlon, congratulations.
   Contrary to usual, the mage made no attempt to grab the elfess by the ear or give her a slap. He merely looked up at Valria, full of longing and fatigue. The Captain, unaccustomed to such behavior, was momentarily taken aback and averted her eyes. Master sighed:
   - Everyone please step back five meters, at least.
   The guardsmen pressed against the dusty walls of the gallery, drawing their swords. Only Kaye aimed her trophy crossbow at the archway. The duchess remained in the rear, guarded by Dallan, while Valria stood in the middle of the corridor, beside the wizard. She put her hand on his shoulder, gave him a gentle squeeze. Carlon grinned crookedly. Slowly, so as not to make a mistake, he read the words of power. He snapped his fingers.
   The solid brick wall, stiffened with excellent cement, was blown into the keep, as if by a gust of wind of unimaginable power. The blast was surprisingly weak, and the mage didn't even blink. Years of accumulated dust blasted across the floor, wrapping a gray veil around the corridor.
   - Forward! - Lady Emilia shouted, darting first into the opening. The named sisters followed her. Karlon staggered, his knees trembling, but Valria put her shoulder to the master's shoulders and kept him from falling. They held each other and dove into the cloud of dust that engulfed the guardsmen.
   The bowstring of a crossbow slammed, blades clinked. By the time the mage and the elfess, coughing, burst into the corridor of the keep, which was no longer a dead end, there lay the first corpse. A tall man in a black brigantine without a coat of arms and a leather helmet stretched out on the rubble of a brick, having received an arrow in the forehead. A second enemy in the same outfit, Lady Emilia and Kaya pushed away from the archway. The warrior in the brigantine fought back skillfully, but got too caught up in swordsmanship with two opponents and missed the third. Taking advantage of her considerable height, the Lady Maria struck over Emilia's shoulder with a deep lunge to get her opponent under his arm. Kaya immediately finished off the wounded man with a slash to the throat. The warrior's body was still on the ground, and the girls were already hurrying on.
   A narrow corridor led to a huge round room with a high ceiling. Judging by the rich furnishings, the room served Count Cyril both living room and office. A stone staircase along the western wall led to other floors of the tower. The earl himself was drinking wine at a low table, in the company of a gray-bearded old man of rather good looks - an explosion made them both jump up. The castle master let out a sound like a cat's strangled mewing when he saw the guards burst into his chambers and limped to the other side of the room, to the protection of two more soldiers in black brigantines. His drinking companion was quicker, sneaking behind the backs of the blacks first. Emilia and Kaya rushed to them, but then the doors in the walls of the study-room opened, and from the adjoining rooms poured out another half dozen equally armed soldiers. They bore little resemblance to servants picking up swords for the first time. The girls chose to retreat, standing shoulder to shoulder with their sisters, covering Carlon and the Duchess who had emerged from the corridor. "The black brignatines" lined up opposite, and the circular room was divided in half by a double line. On one side was a thin line of guardsmen in silver armor, on the other a string of warriors in black brigantines. The "black" line was twice as long as the blue-silver one.
   - I didn't expect anyone to be here, - said Count Cyril hoarsely from behind his defenders. His voice trembled a little, but more from age than from fright. - Christine, girl, why did you leave dinner early? Bored without my company, eh?
   - Oh, of course not, - replied the ruler of Elvart in tone with the Count. She stood directly behind her bodyguards, along with Sergeant Dallan. - You have labored, dear cousin, to keep me in interesting company since your departure.
   - Yes, but I see you weren't happy with it. Perhaps...
   - Enough with the ceremonies, - a new, familiar voice interrupted the count. Peter stepped down from the upper floor, playing with his pistol. He was followed by two more warriors in brigantines. - Count, you had a chance to chat with a relative earlier. Do your business. We have all the trumps. Actually, I'm sorry about the ammunition, these last ones, but if you can't handle it, so be it...
   He pointed the gun at the duchess, but she was shielded by Lady Maria - as the tallest of the guardsmen. The place of the girl in the line immediately took Dallan.
   - Are you sure you're the only one with trumps? - Christina the Second was nonchalantly curious.
   - Even if you're not bluffing, - the alien began. But this time he was not allowed to finish. The Earl made a grunt as he pointed behind Peter.
   Lady Jana ran up the stairs and through the closed trapdoor. In the bright light of the chandelier, she seemed almost translucent - or perhaps the manifestation had weakened from her many wounds. White shimmering notches left by the demons' touches covered the ghost's arms, chest, and back, one faintly glowing across her cheek. As she stepped onto the landing, Jana jumped sideways. The mage didn't immediately understand why - but a moment later he saw the demon's head through the hatch boards. It looked like a skinny, wingless dragon and crawled out into the light, glancing up at the charging humans with scarlet eyes. After the first demon, more came pouring down from the lower floors.
   The Count's quarters were in chaos in the blink of an eye. "The black brigantines" screamed in terror, trying to cut demons with their swords or run from them, ghostly predators chasing people around the room. Peter, who had not been touched by the demons, shouted commands, waved his pistol - no one listened to him. The guardsmen surrounded their mistress and led to the exit, shielding their bodies from possible gunfire, waving away the creatures with amulets and panicked soldiers with their blades. All but the Lady Maria, who rushed to Carlon, took him by the arm and practically dragged the heavy warlock along with Valria. Jana's ghost rushed between the two groups, clearing the way for them. As they neared the landing in front of the stairs, Carlon noticed the Count's gray-bearded guest gesticulating furiously, muttering something to himself. The effect of his actions was evident as the demons who had been closing in on the two old men suddenly spun around and left them alone and sped off after the guardsmen.
   - The gray-haired man is a mage! - With all his strength, Carlon shouted, pointing a finger at the demonologist. - The summoner!
   He was heard. Sergeant Dallan separated herself from the group, deftly weaving between the enemies, ran up to the old man who was busy witchcrafting, cracking his skull open with one sword blow. She hurried backward, but two of the demons loomed up in front of her, cutting her off from her comrades.
   - Dallan! - Valria lunged at her friend, nearly toppling the wizard, but quickly came to her senses. She groaned through clenched teeth.
   Lady Jana, who had just been fighting at the other end of the hall, spun out of thin air in front of her sergeant, jabbed one demon in the paw and blocked the blow of the second with her glowing blade. She waved her hand, indicating to the green-eyed girl that she should run to her comrades. Dallan responded with a nod and sprinted from her place. A few seconds later she was next to Valria and Carlon. But the ghost of the guardsman was surrounded on all sides by demons. Perhaps Jana could have disappeared again and reappeared elsewhere, but she chose to remain in the thick of the creatures, gathering them on herself, distracting them from her comrades. The ghost's faded sword flashed more and more frequently, the guardswoman spun on her heels, chopping at the paws and tentacles reaching for her. Already standing on the stone steps, Carlon drew a bag of salt from his pocket with trembling fingers, untied the string with his teeth, and sprinkled the salt across the stairs. He roughly drew a line with the toe of his boot and charged it with a bit of energy to create a weak barrier for a few minutes. He cast one last glance at the room he'd left behind. Peter was gone. The bodies of the "black brigantines" were lying around like rag dolls, and the fatted creatures were wandering or floating in the air. Lady Jana had disappeared beneath the demons piling over her, and all that was visible from beneath their gray carcasses was a faint twitching leg in a brown guardsman's boot. The leg convulsed before the mage's eyes, twitching for the last time and scattering the familiar silver dust.
   Climbing up the aisle following Christina, the master heard Count Cyril's shrill shriek. It was a small consolation to him...
  
   Chapter 17
   The top of the main tower of the castle was exactly what Carlon had hoped for. It was a completely empty circular open-air platform, surrounded by massive square battlements of black stone. The last to get out were a panting mage and the Lady Maria, who had covered the rear. Seeing that no one was lagging behind, the guardian attempted to slam the thick iron hatch shut, but she couldn't do it, the hinges were rusted. Dallan and Kaya came to her aid. Just the three of them lowered the lid, and pushed down the two metal bolts.
   - We can't relax yet! - Valria warned. - Carlon, salt.
   The wizard handed her two sacks and, with the rest, went to the battlements and began pouring salt right under them. It was safer this way, there was less chance that the protective circle would be broken by wind or any other accident. It went quickly, and a couple of minutes later the salt circle covered the whole area. Carlon touched the white particles with the tips of his fingers, whispered a spell, poured as much energy into the barrier as he could squeeze out of himself without risking his life. He exhaled in relief and wiped the sweat from his face. He collapsed, unconscious before his cheek touched the bird-dirted floor of the scratched stone slabs.
   ...Carlon was awakened by the sound of a knock. He groaned, got up on his elbows, and looked around. Master found that he was lying on the edge of the platform, covered by Valria's cloak and with the elfess' hat tucked under his head. Valria herself was sitting nearby, with her shoulder against Dallan's. She seemed to be dozing. At some distance from the mercenaries, Her Highness the Duchess of Elvart was seated in comfort. The guardsmen covered the cold slabs with their cloaks especially for her, with another cloak Christina covered her feet. The weary Lady Adela slept beside her, resting her head in her mistress's lap, and the Duchess stroked her bodyguard's dark red hair. Emilia and Maria stood guard behind them, Kaya strode along the battlements, keeping watch. The sky was already brightening, the stars were going out. And a knocking sound came from a locked hatch.
   Seeing that the mage was awake, the Lady Maria left her guard and approached him. Smiling with one eye, she leaned over and gave him a hand. Carlon accepted her help gratefully, unsure if he could rise on his own. Standing up, he asked in a low voice:
   - Who is that coming to us?
   - I know no more than you do, master, - the guardswoman replied. - I can only guess. There are a lot of bodies down there.
   - Possessed. - Carlon grimaced. - Even if they kicked the hatch down, they couldn't get up here. The body would get through the barrier, but they'd shake the demon out of it.
   Supported by Maria under the elbow, he waddled toward the duchess. She greeted him with a weary smile:
   - Well, master, captain Valria's plan seems to have worked. It's dawn. Soon we can try to clear the stairs and descend into the courtyard.
   - Lady Yana... stayed there, - the wizard said guiltily. Carlon could not say that he had abandoned his companion to her death, but the feeling was just that.
   - Yes, I already know. - Christina shook her head. - Don't beat yourself up. A man cannot die twice, and the soul is at the mercy of the Creator alone. Jana will return, sooner or later. If she doesn't consider her duty to me done, of course. She's just lost her... visible form. It's only temporary.
   - Yes, I know. - The Duchess gestured for the wizard to sit down, and he sank heavily onto the edge of his cloak. Maria stood beside him as if she were his bodyguard, not Christina's. - Your Highness, have you ever wondered why Sir Kyril has made such an attempt on your life, and in cahoots with someone else?
   - The first thing that comes to mind is the title. - Christina of Elvart darkened, stopped smiling. - I told you that the Earl has no kin closer to me, but that is true in reverse as well. With my death, the Duke's crown would go to Sir Cyril. Truly, I have no idea how he thought to survive and justify himself after the assassination attempt. Maybe he didn't, but wanted to get something out of it. The cousin is very old, and for years he seems to have built up a hatred for me. Or maybe the Coalition promised him something. Things are happening in the world that even I do not yet understand. The mechanisms around which nations revolve have been set in motion, Master. We can only see the gears turning, but the machine is already in motion. Rest now, for we're about to have our final battle.
   Carlon returned to his old position on his own, without Maria's help. Sitting down beside the mercenaries, he picked up Valria's hat and slipped it over the elf's head. She opened one eye. Girl yawned, put her hand behind her back, and took out a cloth pouch. From the sack she took out two small crumbs, handed one to Dallan, and hid the other in her vest pocket. The sack handed the mage:
   - Here, share it with our iron girls. Her Highness can also offer, if there is any left.
   - Where did you get...
   - We were in the kitchen, - the elfess shrugged. - I couldn't have left with only salt, could I?
   She raised her hand to adjust her hat, which was askew, and then she froze. Girl frowned:
   - Who's knocking from downstairs I can guess. But... I hear something else. A creaking sound... as if from outside.
   - What do you mean, from outside? - The mage didn't get it.
   - Demons can climb walls? - The elf girl sprang stiffly to her feet, and Dallan rose after her.
   - They can walk on any surface, even a steep one. Or float close to it, - Master nodded. - But they don't make much noise. And it's light out. And a possessed person wouldn't have the dexterity to climb rocks.
   - Metal on stone... - the captain's head whirled, trying to decide where the faint sound was coming from, which only she could hear. - If it isn't demons, then... All from the edge of the roof!
   Valria's warning was a little overdue. Carlon saw a metal cylinder fly over the cogs, spinning.
   - Close your eyes and ears! - The mage shouted before the cylinder exploded. And he was the first to set an example. The flash and thunder were the same as in the throne room, on the day of the Duke's murder - but noticeably weaker. Maybe it was the wide open space around him, or maybe it was just that this cylinder was different from the day before. This time the master did not lose consciousness, only collapsed to his knees. He exhaled sharply, took hands off his ears, shook his head, and opened eyes.
   Peter, an assassin from another world, jumped down from the fortress cairn, unhooked a metal snaphook with a rope fastened to it from his belt. He drew pistol from behind his belt, aimed it, and pressed something. Through the rumble in his blocked ears, Carlon heard a crackling sound-the sounds of separate shots merging into long one. "Tr-r-r-ringk! Tr-r-rringk! Tr-r-rringk!" Behind the master shrieked the Duchess of Elvart, metal hit metal, the steel of the Guards armor torn by bullets rang out... The mage did not wait any longer. All his magical training was of no use at the moment, the techniques of hand-to-hand combat taught by Lady Emilia had been knocked out of his mind, so Carlon lunged at the assassin without any frills, growling through his teeth. Peter had just lowered the pistol, which had stopped spitting fire, and reached for the scabbard on his belt. The alien met the mage's attack with a mocking smirk. Carlon didn't even manage to crash into him with his whole body as he'd hoped - the assassin stepped sideways, caught the mage by the shoulder, twisted his arm. Kicked him in the stomach, hooked him, knocked to the ground. Finally he pulled his dagger out of its sheath and swung it at his defeated foe... The sword, thrown by a strong hand, struck Peter in the wrist with its crossguard, knocking the weapon from his fingers. Both blades clattered against the stone rampart and disappeared from sight.
   - Whoa! - the alien exclaimed respectfully, turning to face the new threat. Sergeant Dallan, staggering and stumbling, walked toward him with clenched fists raised to face level. The sun had just come over the horizon, illuminating the top of the donjon, and the first rays played on the girl's polished armor. - I remember you, too. Come for more?
   The sergeant tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear with an uncertain gesture, and... laughed guttural. It was the first time Carlon had heard her laugh in six years, and he regretted it - it sounded like Dallan simply didn't know how people laughed. It was rather creepy.
   The alien attacked first. The girl blocked a series of blows to the face, knocked the gun he used instead of a baton out of his hands, holding the barrel. She defied a deceptive move and kicked the killer in the shin with an armored boot, forcing him to rebound. She tried to counterattack, but alas - concussion from the explosion. The sergeant hesitated a little longer than she should have, and Peter caught her right arm in his grasp. He gripped it so tightly that even Carlon could hear the crunch of bones and tossed Dallan to the floor. Angrily, he kicked her in the lower abdomen, under the rim of her cuirass. For some reason, it was this blow that caused the mage to erupt in uncontrollable rage. He got up on all fours and clenched his fists to the point of pain. Before Carlon could do anything, however, a shadow covered the tower.
   The assassin and the warlock both raised their heads in unison to see the dragon in its red-and-gold imperial harness dive toward the floor. The dragon's maw, full of saber-like fangs, was open wide, clawed paws outstretched forward, its enormous wings obscuring the barely dawning sun. Peter's jaw dropped. To give the killer credit, he recovered in a second and tried to jump away, but Carlon lunged forward, hooking onto his left leg and holding him in place. The alien tried to strike the wizard in the face with his right hand, but couldn't. Dallan grabbed his other ankle with her healthy arm. A hot wind blew across the platform. Master clutched tightly, continuing to clutch the assassin's leg with both hands. Something huge whizzed a meter above his head, a hideous wet crunch sounded, and a splash of hotness splattered on Carlon's back. When the mage stopped squinting, he found himself holding exactly half of Peter. The killer's body above the waist belt was gone. The remainder stood for a moment, as if contemplating what to do next, and finally fell. The mage met his gaze with Dallan, lying on her stomach, her face red with blood, her almost frantic emerald-green eyes burning with feverish fire. Swallowing, master looked up. Three battle dragons were circling in the fading sky above the tower of the old castle. The tail of one held the long pennant of the squadron commander.
   - Uh... Dallan? - Carlon called cautiously, glancing at the girl again. The crazy fire in her eyes faded, but not completely. - Are you all right?
   - Yeah... I'm... fine. - The sergeant sat up uneasily. - What about Valria? What about Cristina? They both fell and I... I don't remember any further... What about them?
   Carlon stood up, holding his stomach, catching his breath. He kicked the half-peter with his heel, a pool of blood spreading rapidly around him. He looked around. Valria, who had been knocked out again by the explosion, was already showing signs of life - lying on her back, groping her face for some reason. Reassured that the elf-woman was all right, the mage moved past her. Farther. To where things were far worse. The alien from a world without magic had used up the last bullets of his miracle weapon on the Duchess of Elvart. But beside the Duchess were her guardsmen. Even stunned and blinded, they did their duty. As best they could, they simply covered Christina with themselves. Lady Emilia and Maria were the first to do so, the redheaded twins falling on top of them. So they lay there now...
   As the Master approached, Lady Emilia moved, pushed the body of one of the twins off herself, rose to her feet. She stared at Carlon as if he were a stranger. Inhaled deeply. Lowered her gaze. Leaned down to give Cristina her hand. Her right - the guardswoman's left arm dangled as a whip. The blue sleeve of her uniform had turned to bloody rags. Even without being a healer, Carlon knew at once that the bone had been broken in several places, both above and below the elbow. The pain must have been hellish, but the little brown-eyed girl ignored it utterly. Pulling the unharmed duchess out from under the bodies of the guardsmen, she knelt down and tried to take the other twin off Lady Maria. With her only working arm, this was not working well. The magician hurried to help her.
   Lady Kaya took most of the shots. Six holes gaped in the back plate of her cuirass, and another chunk of lead pierced the girl's neck above the gorget. Trying to stabilize the guardswoman was too late - the agony was beginning. Holding back the unexpected sickness, the mage turned away from the dying woman to attend to her sisters. Lady Adela, already wounded today, was a little luckier - two bullets entered her back above the waist, one below. Only the last wound was not in danger of bleeding internally. Finally, Lady Maria was shot in both legs above the knees. She could not stand up, but she suffered perhaps the least - the lead did not hit her bones or her femoral arteries.
   - I'll take care of myself, - the pale girl said to Carlton as she fumbled for a purse with a clean cloth on her belt. - And Emilia, too. It's not for nothing... I read all those books... Help Adela.
   Carlon darted a glance behind his belt, searching for the amulet that would staunch blood, and glanced at the elf-woman. She was already sitting up, gripping her temples, with the sergeant holding her back. Well, at least these two are all right...
   A dragon with a commander's pennant made another run at the tower. At the last moment it slowed, spreading its wings wide, and lowered itself to the edge of the platform, clutching at the stone battlements with its forelegs, resting its hind legs against the wall. Master swallowed involuntarily as he saw the black curved claws crumbling the stone. A rider in a black and gold leather suit jumped from the dragon's neck, pulling his closed helmet from his head. Smoothing lush mustache, stepped toward the duchess, raised his hand in salute:
   - Baron Basil Zonatakos, Air Corps of the Ninth "Iron" Army of the Empire. Your Highness the Duchess of Elvart, I presume?
   Christina simply nodded. She stood with her arms folded across her chest, her dress stained with dark traces of blood.
   - I have been instructed to take you to safety, Your Highness. Would the camp of your escort below be such a place?
   - Certainly, Baron. But we have wounded Guardsmen who need immediate assistance. Bring them down to camp first.
   - Your Highness, I have been instructed...
   - Baron. - Christina the Second has lifted her chin. - Are you forcing me to repeat myself?
   - I... Yes, Your Highness.
   Carlon had seen all sorts of things in war, but he'd never seen a dragon used to transport the wounded. Lady Maria was taken in the first batch, along with Adela. A mage carried the girl to the dragon in his arms, helping to seat her behind the dragonrider. Maria's face, always pale and sore, was colorless from the blood loss, even her lips turned white. Only bright blue eyes gleamed feverishly. And yet she found the strength to smile stammeringly at the master. As the winged lizard rose into the air, Valria approached Carlon. The elf was unaccustomedly disheveled and mussed, with untidy strands of golden hair sticking out of her mane.
   - Tell me, Carlon... Don't you love me at all? - she asked in a mock pitying voice, peering into the wizard's face.
   - You see... I never wanted a little sister, - the master sighed, glancing up at the dragon. - And now that I have one, against my will, I don't know what to think. I guess I love her. There, I said it out loud.
   - Dummy. I'm a hundred and five years old.
   - So?
   - So. I'm the eldest.
   - That's good. You're the eldest.
   Her Highness Christina the Second was the last to be taken from the tower, along with those who did not need a physician's help - that is, the mercenaries and the body of Lady Kaya. Below, the Duchess was greeted by the girl guardsmen left in the camp. Throwing away all their restraint and seriousness, they enclosed Christina in an embrace, almost dropping her to the ground. One of the bodyguards even cried, throwing not only Carlon, but all those present in a deep confusion. The Duchess of Elvart stroked the heads of her protectors and soothed them with tender words, just like children. Having finally let her mistress go, the guardsmen lifted the fallen sister in their arms and carried her away without allowing anyone to help.
   - Your Highness, what to do with the castle? - Sir Harold, who had assumed command of the escort, asked Christina.
   - Leave it as it is, - replied the Duchess. - I would advise no one to enter it. Perhaps the Emperor will send his mages and investigators here at a later time, but for now it is enough that the gates are locked, with no one to open them. Take down the siege, sir. We rest all day today and care for the wounded. Tomorrow, we move on to the capital. Our schedule has not been cancelled.
   The raiders requisitioned the only decent bath in the village in the name of the duchess, but it was immediately occupied by women - Christina herself, Valria and Dallan. Soaked in Peter's blood and freezing cold, Carlon had to walk around the camp for a while, waiting for his turn. He visited the duke's healer, made sure the wounded guardsmen were asleep and Lady Adele was in no danger, and talked to the soldiers. It turned out that as soon as the gates of the castle had closed, Sir Harold had released a pair of carrier pigeons brought in by the clibanarians. He must have acted on the instructions left by Christina, and the dragons over the castle did not appear by coincidence - they simply arrived before the other reinforcements summoned from the capital. Finally getting to the sweat lodge, the master washed the dust of the dead castle off himself properly. The wizard could not make it to his room, but lay down on a straw mattress near the soldiers' fire and fell asleep there.
   Late the next morning, the cortege was preparing to leave. The wounded remained in the village under the guard of a dozen raiders. New healers were to be sent from the city - a personal healer Christina preferred to see by her side. Lady Emilia, despite the terrible condition of her left arm, was able to climb into the saddle, so that in the hut of the village head, which had become a hospital, Carlon found only Adela and Maria. The surviving twin was asleep; Maria was reading.
   - She had not woken up? - the mage asked, taking a seat on the stool at the head of the bed.
   - No. - Maria put the book aside. - Sleep heals.
   - She doesn't know yet that Kaya is dead.
   - Yes. But don't let that worry you, master.
   - О.... - Carlon shifted his eyebrows. - She'll come back, just like Jana, won't she?
   - Probably. If she wants to.
   They were silent for a while, for the first time not knowing what to talk about. Maria stroked the cover of her book with her fingertips, smiled uncertainly:
   - I've been lucky with my wounds. The scars on my legs will heal. It could have hit my face, after all. Am I still beautiful, master?
   - You are still beautiful, lady, - the wizard smiled back.
   - I wish we had made it to the capital together. I had hoped we would have more time. But you recall my words? Our paths are parting. It is time for us to say goodbye. Perhaps we will meet again, but please do not look for that meeting on purpose.
   - Of course we will. - The mage hummed. - Her Highness will travel back the same way in a few days. I'm sure she will take you with her.
   - Oh... - There was a silly expression on the guardsman's face. - I hadn't thought of that.
   After a moment's pause, they laughed together - quietly, for fear of waking the wounded woman...
  
   Epilogue
   It was long past midnight and the lanterns on the streets of Elvart were extinguished. The moon was obscured by clouds, and the only room of the cottage and its garden were lit only by the embers in the fireplace and the oil lamp on the table. Pulling the lamp closer, Carlon leafed through "The History of the Noble Iderling Dynasty," not really making sense of the pages. Valria and Dallan were snoozing peacefully on the bed, under the blanket they shared, and the wizard should have been asleep on his cot in the corner. But he was stubbornly turning page after page. His mind was a muddled mess. There was too much to think about.
   The homage had gone without a hitch. The way back did not cause problems either - fortunately, after the unsuccessful assassination attempt, the duchess had a whole army to accompany her. Already in the lands of the duchy cortege caught up with the news, which Her Highness wanted to share with the mercenaries. She summoned them to her tent, where, in addition to Christina, Lady Emilia was present with her arm in a sling.
   - Three days ago, King Octavian the Third of Iderling was murdered in his own hunting castle. Along with his wife, his sons, his two daughters, and his young grandson, - the Duchess reported as everyone settled into their folding camping chairs. - The method of killing is unknown. There is talk of poisonous fumes filling the refectory where the king and his family dined. Only Octavian's middle daughter, who was in another castle, survived. She immediately left under heavy guard for the royal palace. She was killed right outside with a shot to the head. Firearms were fired, from a great distance. There is panic in the Coalition. They are looking for distant relatives of the king from side branches of the dynasty. The capital, Daert city, smells of civil war.
   - This is... very familiar, - Carlon stretched out. - Very familiar.
   - Undoubtedly, - the Duchess nodded. - But why are our enemies doing to them what's been happening to us?
   - Well... - Valria tilted her head to her shoulder, one ear cocked. - Either there are some internal forces fighting in the Coalition, or the Coalition has nothing to do with what is happening, and they are victims too.
   - But we know Peter was working for the Iderlings, - Dallan remarked.
   - How do we know that? - The elf-woman raised her eyebrows. - From the word of one man. A resident of Imperial Intelligence.
   There was silence in the tent for about two minutes. At last Carlon dared to ask:
   - What shall we do?
   - Nothing, for now, - answered Christina the Second. - Hurrying now is the worst thing to do. If someone wants me dead, I must live. Let's stop there. And we'll look for new leads.
   - But Your Highness, why are you bringing us into all this? - Valria leaned back as if her stool had a backrest. - You know that I am personally acquainted with the chief of imperial intelligence, and in general, just a mercenary working for money.
   - I know, captain, - the duchess assured her. - However, after the experience in the castle of my precious cousin, I trust you. And that, in our position, is the most important thing. I need people I can trust. There are fewer and fewer of them. If you don't mind staying with me...
   - In part, - the elfess interrupted Christina unceremoniously. - Your Highness, I am happy to help you untangle the tangle around this story. But I will not 'stay with you. I am commander of a free company and will remain so.
   - I understand, Lady Valria. - The Duchess lowered her eyelids and turned her gaze to the wizard. - And you, master Carlon? You are not part of the Captain's company, and I can offer you a post in the palace guard. With special powers.
   - I'll have to think about it, - Carlon answered quickly.
   - Certainly. - Christina the Second suddenly smiled. - You have time.
   The mercenaries could have spent the first night at the palace on their return to Elvart, but Valria was in a hurry to see her favorite cottage, and Carlon followed her there. He ended up spending the night there, as the girls had dragged an old mattress and a couple of blankets out of the closet especially for the mage. However, sleep did not come. Staring blankly into a book, the mage tried to think of a dozen things at once. Who had truly summoned the assassin from the other world? Why would the Empire kill Elvartian rulers if the Duchy was a strong and loyal vassal? Why would the Coalition want chaos in a kingdom on which the military might of the entire West rests? Why did Mr. Sandr contract the company for the last missions, and then where did he go? Is it worth accepting the Duchess's offer? A post in the guard is a steady income, a job in the palace. And a job at the palace is a job with Maria. The chance to be with her every day. But if he joins the guards, he will dive deeper into politics than he is now and become a servile man. Would it be worth it?
   The mage removed his pewter-rimmed glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose with force, and... barely contained a frightened cry. On the other side of the table, two yellow dots were burning in the gloom. The golden dots just hung motionless in the air outside the circle of light from the lamp. Looking closely, mage realized that the lights were eyes. Around them was the faint outline of a face - a woman's face, no doubt.
   - Lady Yana? - The mage asked uncertainly. The lights flickered up and down - the shadow nodded. Carlon could see her fully now - the ghost was sitting on a chair, leaning on the tabletop with her elbow. Jana was not yet strong enough to manifest, and she seemed to be just that transparent black shadow in which barely visible familiar outlines - short hair, round shoulder pads of cuirass, cloak falling on the back...
   - Why are you here? - Carlon asked in a thicker voice. Had any one ever told him he would so calmly converse with a wraith... But the wizard had little fear of Lady Yana, particularly after what he had seen at the castle. - Come to say goodbye?
   The lights in her golden eyes flickered to the left and right. A hand reached out and touched a porcelain teapot beside the lamp.
   - Uh... Would you like some tea? - The astonished master took the teapot in his hands, filled the cup, and held it up to the ghost. The shadow made a movement, as if to take the cup and sip from it - though the cup remained in place. Then stood up, walked over to the closet. She took her cloak off her shoulders and hung it inside - the shadow of the cloak disappeared. "Undressed," Lady Jana walked over to the bed, lay down on its edge so as not to touch the sleeping girls, and put her hands behind her head. The yellow lights went out, followed by the shadow itself.
   - And what is that supposed to mean? - The mage asked into the void. He still held the teapot in his hands, hesitating to put it on the table. - Wait... Lady Jana, are you staying with us?
   No one answered him. The light in the oil lamp flickered and something crackled in the fireplace.
   - It's wonderful. - The wizard thought aloud. - They're bringing that lizard back one of these days.
   Yes, it would seem that the mercenary company of the "Bright Heads" had finally begun to grow. An empty-headed elf, a fattening mage, a noble exile, an overseas lizard, and the ghost of a guardsman. Comrades to be dreamed of...
   The end of first novel.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

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