Novel 2. Royal Justice

— What kind of castle? — Gotech quickly clarified.

— Castr Albeni.

— Is it on the list? — The black-skinned giant looked questioningly at Armando. He nodded:

— Yes, there is. One of the most active radio stations there.

— Then it's all right.

— What list? — The elven woman was surprised, shifting her gaze from one bailiff to the other.

— We have our secrets too, lady. — It was Armando's turn to smile enigmatically at the captain. — I'll explain later. So you want to catch one of the chief stranger's lieutenants?

— Yep. — Valria took a huge gulp of coffee, draining the cup a third of the way down. — I got caught getting very close to one of their escorts. At least now I know what the stranger we're looking for looks like and what his name is. Some kind of paper rat, carrying some kind of invoice to Fulcanelli. He's at the castle now, so we can intercept him on his way back. And he will, and in the next few days.

— After your capture and escape, they will surely beef up security. — Gotech tasted the sharpness of the hook again, this time with the pad of his finger.

— I'm sure they will, — the elf agreed eagerly. — I'm sure they'll send him back with a whole troop. So the main question is how to steal him away from the squad. I propose to think over the problem together.

— Tell me, lady, — Armando chewed his lip, still feeling the pungent smell of boiled coffee in his nostrils, — will your plan of kidnapping be easier if we add to it... I don't know... for example, — the bailiff rolled his eyes, — a dragon?...?

Chapter 10

— This place is so convenient for an ambush that only a fool wouldn't expect one," Gotech said, after he had finished studying the terrain with the inquisitive eye of a veteran soldier. — Provided they take this route at all.

— They will, Don, you bet they will, — Captain Valria answered him with a satisfied grin. The elfess was sitting on the ground with her back against a tree, cleaning the rifle on her lap. — Exactly this way. Exactly because they would be ready for a trap. Because being ready for an enemy attack is half the victory. But they don't know what tricks we have on our hands.

The section of the road that was to be a trap for the stranger lay between two long, wooded hills with steep slopes — indeed, it was the best place for an ambush. But it was also the shortest route from Castr Albeni Castle to the east, so a strong military force would indeed choose it — Armando agreed with the elf. The bailiffs and the Imperial captain were now perched on the top of a lonely knoll just west of the road.

— I still can't believe you're going to shoot a gun at that range," the black-skinned giant continued to exude skepticism. Gotech didn't like the golden-haired elf's plan from the start, and de Gorazzo wondered whether it was the veteran's distrust of the Imperials or his extensive military experience.

— It would not occur to them to look for a gunman so far from the road. — The captain twitched her long ears in a horse-like manner to ward off a fly. — You see, Don, when we killed the stranger who attempted to assassinate the Duchess of Elvart, we got some of his equipment. The imperial engineers studied the spoils very carefully. We can't copy the aliens' weapons completely, but it was quite possible to borrow some ideas. The idea embodied in this rifle is called the rifled barrel channel.

— And how does it allow you to shoot more accurately and farther? — Armando asked.

— It's a secret. — The girl winked at the official and put her finger to her lips. — The main thing is that a good arquebuse hits accurately at seven dozen paces, and my rifle — all three hundred. And that in the hands of a man.

— And in yours? — Armando decided to give the captain a reason to brag.

— Four hundred paces. With no guarantee of a hit, up to five hundred. — Valria set the oil cloth aside and raised the gun in her outstretched arms to admire her work. — Elves not only hear better than humans. Our eyesight is sharper, too. And smell. And touch. — After thinking for a moment, the girl added: — And we're also smarter, prettier, and live longer. Why don't you go to your starting positions, noble gentlemen...?

...To establish contact with Dona Minerva, Armando went alone. Of course, Gotech was at first eager to do it himself, but quickly gave in to a simple argument — in this outing it was more important than ever not to attract attention.

De Gorazzo had planned to enter Edicius through the main gate, posing as a merchant's clerk from the impoverished nobility. However, even before the city towers loomed on the horizon, the official began to notice disturbing signs — merchants' carts loaded not with wood, but heading east, peasant families going somewhere with their belongings in knots, squads of armed horsemen.... As Armando entered the modest village, which was in fact a suburb of Edicius, he saw a trading wagon stop in front of the headman's house and risked a conversation with one of it's guards.

— The Royal Prevo has declared a state of siege, — the hired soldier said sullenly, smoking a short pipe. — The gates of the city are locked and no one is allowed inside.

— And why? — de Gorazzo asked.

— I don't know exactly,— the soldier shrugged. — But rumors fly fast. They say that yesterday or the day before, fifteen local barons announced that they do not recognize Queen Octavia as the rightful ruler and moved their troops to the east. If this is true, the city will soon be besieged, it's crown land. And rebel lands on all sides.

— That's... bad, — Armando managed to squeeze out.

— You bet it is, — the mercenary grinned wryly. He let out a cloud of tobacco smoke and moved his pipe hand aside. — Fifteen barons are a force, but their cohorts are made of scum, armed with junk and unable to work together. They'll loot everything they can get their hands on first. Then the royal army will come from the capital and smash them to smithereens in one battle. And loot the place again. I don't envy the local villagers. Though the woods are thick with hiding places.

— I don't think the queen would allow her own subjects to be massacred. — To his own surprise, de Gorazzo felt a pang of resentment for Octavia.

— She'll drive through a couple of villages after the battle, order a dozen marauders hanged. — The mercenary shrugged. — Who's going to stop that? I know our brother soldier.

Thanking the guard, the young bailiff stepped aside and began to think hard about his situation. Should he go to Edicius? Perhaps the city guards would let him in if he could show the staff with the coat of arms, now hidden at the bottom of his traveling bag. But waving the regalia of a royal bailiff now would be like firing a bombard and then dancing around it. After such a thing, Armando simply could not be reunited with the squad, for the safety of his comrades. No sooner had the official made up his mind than he felt a tug on his sleeve.

— Will the noble don escort the humble servant of the Creator to the next settlement on the road? — A pleasant female voice asked.

De Gorazzo flinched, turning around. Absorbed in thought, he did not notice a thin figure in the white and gray robes of a traveling nun creeping up behind him. The nun sprang her white leather gloved hands from her wide sleeves, lifted her hood, and the bailiff saw the smiling face of Donna Minerva.

— Of course, sister. — No one looked at them much, but Armando picked up the knight's game. The two of them rode out of the village, walking along the side of the road away from Edicius. The bailiff led the horse by the reins.

— How did you get here, Donna? — de Gorazzo asked, making sure no one was following them.

— Very simply. — The girl walked beside him, her palms again hidden in her sleeves. — By the time I reached the city, the gates were still open, but rumors of rebellion were rife. I decided that if I was trapped inside the city walls, it would be hard to get out, so I decided to stay outside. Thankfully, I knew which way you and Gotech would be coming from. Is he all right?

— Yes, he's fine. He really wanted to meet you in person, but he's too conspicuous. I had to. How long have you been waiting?

— Three days. The headman was pious enough to let a lonely servant of God sleep in his stable.

— God... I'm sorry, Donna. You have had to live in such conditions because of us ...

The girl suddenly laughed softly:

— Don, don't be silly. I've been used to sleeping on straw since I was a child. I have quarters in the family castle, of course, but I usually sleep in the dragon house, close to Coal. And just so you know, dragon dung smells stronger than cow dung.

— Where did you leave the dragon?

— In the woods to the east. We caught a couple of deer there, enough to last him a while. When a dragon just sleeps on the ground without flying, it rarely needs food.

The clatter of horseshoes made the bailiff and the knight look back. De Gorazzo counted four horsemen coming from the direction of the village. They looked as if they had stepped out of the pages of chivalric novels: ringed chain mail instead of plate, coats of arms over armor, open helmets, short spears in their hands. Now, in the age of gunpowder and cuirasses, only the personal retinue of a poor knight could wear such things. They must have been handed down from generation to generation.

— Halt! — shouted the leader of the band, overtaking the travelers on foot. He was distinguished from his comrades by the yellow feathers on his helmet. The commander turned his horse around and lowered his spear. The other riders surrounded Armando and Minerva. They had to obey.

— Sister, take off your cloak, — demanded the senior vigilante.

— Are you mad, sire?! — Donna Minerva was outraged, in a voice perhaps too firm for a frightened nun. — Do you want to incur the wrath of God?

The squire did not repeat the request, but used the tip of his spear to snag the edge of the hood and yank it off the girl's head. He grinned when he saw the white leather collar, covering Minerva's neck tightly:

— I knew it. Throw off your hoodie, Donna Knight. You were ratted out yesterday, but I thought I'd wait to see if anyone else showed up. I see you did. We'll take you to Baron de Oretzi's headquarters. Explain to him what you were doing here.

After a second's tense pause, the girl pulled the nun's gown over her head and threw it into the dust. She was indeed wearing the same snow-white suit made of a single piece of leather, fitting her figure like a glove. She had no sword, only a broad dagger in a scabbard on her hip.

— Knife on the ground, Donna. And you, sire, or don, whoever you are, drop your sword, — the man with the feathered helmet ordered.

Instead of removing the sling, Armando began to slowly draw the blade from its sheath. The men stared at him, oblivious to Minerva — and that was a fatal mistake for them. As soon as all four riders' gazes converged on the young bailiff, the girl snatched up the dagger and plunged it into the commander's neck. With an incredible leap she flew up on the horse's croup before it had time to be frightened, pulled her weapon from the leader's throat and jumped again — on the second enemy. The thin girl in leather armor crashed into the rider with such force that he flew out of the saddle, and together they collapsed on the track, kicking up a cloud of gray dust.

It all happened in the blink of an eye, and the remaining soldiers only had time to gape and tighten their reins, turning their horses to face the threat. De Gorazzo had guessed that Gotech's fianc"e would do something, so he stalled, but he hadn't expected this. However, he was confused for no more than a second. Having drawn his sword to the end, the bailiff struck the belly of the nearest soldier's horse and bounced away, so as not to get under his hooves. The wounded animal roared wildly, sprang to its feet and fell on its side, crushing the rider, writhing in agony. Donna Minerva, meanwhile, had risen to her feet, sword in hand, pointed her finger at the last soldier, and gave a hiss that Corporal Green would have envied. The young official gasped. The girl's features seemed to have changed — her cheekbones sharpened, her ears pressed tighter against her skull, her eyes rounded, and her white, elongated fangs glistened between her lips. The soldier, too, appreciated the sight — he dropped his spear, turned his horse around and gave it spurs. The dragon knight swung her sword at the soldier — the blade hit him between the shoulder blades, but did not penetrate his armor. The warrior spurred his horse once more and soon disappeared from sight. Armando hurriedly finished off the enemy, who had been crushed by the horse, and ran up to the girl, who was still standing in the same place, with her legs spread wide and her fists clenched.

— Donna Minerva! — The bailiff exclaimed worriedly.

— D-don't... touch me... stand back,— the rider hissed through tightly clenched teeth. — A couple of minutes...

Armando obediently froze, feeling icy goosebumps running down his back. Before his eyes, the knight's face was undergoing a reverse change. He could even see the fangs retracting, becoming normal size for a human again. Finally, the girl exhaled and smiled weakly at the official:

— That's it. I'm fine.

She staggered, and de Gorazzo hurried to support his friend's fianc"e by the shoulders. Asked:

— What was that, donna? With your... face?

— Dragon's blood, — she explained, panting. — You know that only in the Empire dragons are trained as fighting beasts, don't you? And in the West, knights join their blood with dragon blood through a ritual?

— Yes, everyone knows that. The dragon understands its rider better that way.

— And the rider understands the dragon. — With a grateful nod, Minerva pulled away, taking Armando's hands off her shoulders. She blushed slightly. — 'It's... a two-way exchange really. Coal is a little bit human. I'm a bit of a dragon. It has to be suppressed, because it's against human nature to be... a little not human. It's either one or the other. I can let myself go for a while, get stronger and faster, you've seen. But it's very, very, very, very unhealthy. And it hurts, especially when the teeth grow in. And I get a little stupid for a while. Dragons aren't very smart. Please don't tell Gotech, okay? He'll freak out.

— I promise, — Armando nodded gravely. — But let's get the horses and get out of here. These warriors are not the last ones in the neighborhood. A runaway might bring friends.

All the way to the rendezvous point of Armando's squad, Armando was troubled by the thought that the simple, ordinary, but beautiful young women seemed to have left his life forever. And until the end of days (which may come very soon) he will have to revolve in the society of red-haired necromancers, century-old elves, intelligent ghosts and knights-werewolves ...