Novel 2. Royal Justice

...Donna Minerva's acquaintance with the Imperials went, fortunately, smoothly — except that the overseas lizard aroused the knight's special interest. And Armando guessed why. The final plan of action was drawn up the same day, including air support. Captain Valria felt it necessary to hurry — the Baron, who owned Castre Albeni, could not sit at home while his comrades gathered troops. It was to be expected that the stranger-counselor would leave with him, for the sake of greater safety.

And so, the royal bailiffs are already waiting for their time in the holes covered with branches near the road, looking at the road and at the portrait of the man they need. Being the only one who had seen the stranger up close, the elf tried to paint him on a sheet of paper, but it turned out that she was a mediocre artist. In any case, rather from the verbal description than from the drawing, de Gorazzo realized that their "client" was a man in his forties, sharp-nosed, balding, wearing round glasses. It was the royal officials, supported by Corporal Green, who were to take him. They lay down a hundred paces from the entrance to the clearing formed by the long hills. The rest of the squad was waiting there on the hills, preparing a real show for the enemy, in which the black-bearded mage played the main role. It had to be admitted that even with the dragon's participation the plan looked like an incredibly risky venture, but the only alternative was to abandon the attempt to capture the stranger.

— Don't worry, I'm lucky, — Captain Valria assured the bailiffs with her usual winning smile. — Everything will go the way we want it to.

— Your luck was especially good when you were captured and tortured, yes, — Master Carlon agreed.

— But you saved me, didn't you? — The elfess was not embarrassed. — And I overheard important information. All for the best.

The longer Armando stayed in the pit, the stronger his doubts became, probably transmitted from Gotech. But the young official had no time to think of desertion, for a cloud of dust, raised by a multitude of hoofs, appeared from the west.

— They are coming, — Armando whispered to his friend, not doubting in the slightest that it was the right troop.

The sentries were the first to pass along the track. They saw nothing, of course — there were no traps on the road itself. And the ones on the sides of the road were masked with the help of a mage and an elven jaeger. A couple of minutes later, a column of riders — fifty men, three in a row — followed the roadblock. The column was led by a rider in rich armor, decorated with coats of arms — Baron de Albeni himself. An elderly man in town dress kept close to him. The flasks and purses on his belt made him look like a mage, though not a combat mage. He was a household sorcerer, the kind that wealthy lords often kept in their courts. De Gorazzo did not notice the bespectacled stranger at first, and even began to worry. But he was at the tail of the column, swaying in the saddle of a stunted horse, the alien from the other world was reading a scroll thoughtfully.

As agreed, the bailiffs lay low until the column had passed them, even breathing a little at a time. Here, the last riders drew into a hollow bounded by hills. The clatter of horseshoes died away. Armando began to count in his mind. At the number "one hundred and two" there was a rumble behind the hills. And another. And another. A cluster of fire, shimmering in shades of scarlet, rose to the sky. At the same moment, the black dot circling high above the forest began to increase rapidly. Eel and his rider had been waiting for the signal so high up that anyone on the ground would have recognized them as birds, if they had seen them at all. Now they were plummeting downward. At a dangerously low altitude, the black-as-tar dragon opened its wings, reducing speed, then turned, almost stopping in mid-air. And dived into the clearing like a seabird dives for fish. Dust flew up over the hills, and leaves torn from branches swirled with it. The noise of battle had died down, but a couple heartbeats later it resumed — magic flames crackling, powder guns rattling, a dragon roaring. The eager de Gorazzo jumped as a galloping rider appeared from behind the hills, but it was only a panicked vigilante. Just behind him, however, came the man they had been waiting for. The bespectacled stranger galloped back down the path, surrounded by several soldiers. The Baron and his mage thankfully stayed in the clearing to take the fight. They did not yet know that they were facing only one mage and two female warriors, merely simulating a serious ambush. And that the dragon, which had fallen from the sky, had deliberately cut off the main part of the column from the stranger sent to the rear, blocking the passage with its carcass.

The riders were in a hurry to get back under the protection of the castle walls, which were not far away, but a tree fell down, blocking their way. One of the soldiers risked a full gallop to send his horse into a jump, but he lacked skill. The horse caught the branches sticking up and fell down. The comrades of the hapless rider tightened the reins. As soon as they stopped, they heard the muffled clap of a rifle shot. The stranger's humble horse shook its head in surprise and fell sideways, with an extra hole above the eye socket. The alien, falling down, gave a frightened howl and shouted some incomprehensible word, perhaps a swear word in his native language. Two soldiers immediately dismounted to pull the alien out from under the corpse of the horse, two more remained in the saddles. These died first. The royal bailiffs had plenty of time to take aim — even the one-armed Gotech, who shot with his crossbow resting on a hook as a prop, didn't miss. The heavy arrows knocked the baronial soldiers to the ground. Their comrades, who had managed to free the stranger, turned around, swords drawn, but a green shadow darted toward them from behind a fallen trunk. The overseas lizard attacked from behind, swiftly driving a dagger into the neck of one of the soldiers and sinking its teeth into the throat of the other. The bailiffs had only to grab the stunned alien goggle-eyed man under his arms.

— In the name of the Queen, you are under arrest, sire — Armando informed the stranger before knocking him out with a blow to the head. — Gotech, Corporal, the deed is done. Let's get out of here.

Captain Valria was already on the track, leading the bailiffs and the lizard. Master Carlon insisted on getting rid of all the prisoner's belongings, down to his underwear. The mage himself was able to track a man's position by an enchanted item, and he suspected that the strangers could accomplish similar things with their technology.

— Hurry, hurry! — The pointy-eared girl was hurrying as the bailiffs loaded the prisoner onto the croup of Gotech's war stallion. — Carlon and the girls had already left. The dragon won't entertain them for more than a couple minutes, then he'll run away too.

— It's good that nobody bet — Gotech muttered sullenly, but smiling at the same time. After securing his prey, the giant jumped into the saddle. — I'd have bet on us failing, and blown a mountain of money...

Chapter 11

The Imperial spies could not boast an interrogation base as well-equipped as the one from which their captain had been rescued. Instead of an entire farmstead, it was a lonely, rickety hut in the middle of nowhere. Probably hunters and foresters slept here in winter, and they kept the dilapidated hut from turning into a pile of rotting logs. .

Leaving lizard-corporal and Sergeant Dallan to guard outside, the rest of the group piled into the hut. Donna Minerva was also missing, but she was to arrive later, having hidden the dragon in a secluded place.

— Let's get started, — Captain Valria said, rubbing her hands together. — I've been in an interrogation before, but not from the side I wanted to be on. It's time to make up for it.

The still awake alien was seated on a splintery bench against the wall, and Lady Maria threw a piece of old cloth over his thighs. Bound hand and foot, the naked stranger looked pitiful and did not seem like a monster from another world, bringing death and destruction. And he didn't even seem dangerous — flabby muscles, a saggy belly, the kind that comes not from gluttony but from sedentary work, the face of a life-worn scribe from the town hall. However, Armando had been in criminal circles long enough not to be deceived by such things. The same Messire Snake, the boss of the capital's smugglers, looked more like a fat, grey-haired cook from some lord's kitchen. He even wore an apron, though not for protection from flour and oil splashes.

— Wake up, sire. A new day has dawned! — The elfess slapped aliens cheeks a couple of times with the palm of her gloved hand. Then she clamped his nose with two fingers. The stranger inhaled convulsively through his mouth and opened his eyes. Blinking, he looked around, not yet realising where he was. Master Carlon practically forced some water from a flask down his throat:

— Drink, or you won't be able to talk.

The stranger coughed, asked in a cracked voice:

— Where am I? Who are you?

— Eh, sire, is a lady supposed to introduce herself first? — The captain said in a friendly tone. Retreating to the centre of the room, she folded her arms across her chest and smiled charmingly. — Say your name first.

— Giovanni Firenze.

— No, sire. My real name.

— It's... real.

— So be it, sire Giovanni. — The elfess shrugged her shoulders. — You may have guessed who we are and why we are talking to you now. We know who you are and where you come from, sire, so you can call us whatever you want.

— And... who do you think I am? — The prisoner's voice strengthened, and he examined the interior of the hut more closely, squinting blindly.

— A stranger. An alien from another world, where magic does not exist and technology is advanced, — Master Carlon continued instead of the elf. — An accomplice to assassinations, assassination attempts, palace coups.

— This is... nonsense. — The captive finally pulled himself together, tried even to sit up straighter. — I am a simple notary from Iolia. I was invited to...

— Messire Giovanni, we know a great deal about the machinations of your comrades — Valria said in a tired tone and stopped smiling. — About entering our world through the portal. The alliance with the local forces. The murder of the Daert King, the failed assassination of the Duchess of Elvart, the participation in conspiracies... We only need details. And it's interesting to learn more about your home world. Nothing to keep you alive if you get stubborn. Become a source of useful information for us and you'll live.

— Damn it, I don't know what you're talking about! — The stranger pressed his lips together. The blush that had appeared on his cheeks disappeared. — What portal? What other world?

— Lady, perhaps you'd like to go outside? — Gotech said, his back propped against the doorjamb. The low ceiling of the hut made the black-skinned giant hunch his head back, making him look even more sinister than usual. — My friend and I have experience with this kind of conversation. Give us an hour.

— Don't be in a hurry, Don, — Master Carlon stopped him. — We have our own methods, more effective.

The imperial mage pulled a thin silver hoop adorned with a transparent stone from a bag on the floor:

— It's a very nasty contraption, enchanted specifically for our mission at the Imperial Academy. Briefly, the hoop transfers one person's memories into another person's head. It transfers, not copies — the owner of the first set of memories turns into a mooing, drooling animal.

— Isn't it dangerous... for you? — De Gorazzo asked doubtfully.

— No, I've been trained. The recovered memories don't layer on top of my own, but sort of lie in a separate room inside my head. I would have suggested it right away, but sorting through other people's memories can take a long time. The transfer is not selective, and we only need certain facts.

— The Messire smiles viciously, — Captain Valria remarked, looking at the prisoner.

— Yes, he thinks magic shouldn't affect him, — the mage nodded. He walked over to Giovanni and slipped the hoop over his head. He took a few steps away. — Except he's wrong. Messire, how long have you been in this world? A long time, I suppose?

— I still don't know what you mean. — Giovanni shook his head, trying to shake off the unwanted jewellery, but it was firmly in place.

— You see, sire, the longer you live in our world, the deeper you become imbued with it, — the black-bearded imperial mage eagerly explained. — The streams of magic stop enveloping your body and your soul. You become part of our reality. And the magic begins to affect you. Not coarse magic at first, but the most subtle. The magic in this hoop is the subtlest magic possible. If you passed through the portal even three months ago, your memory will soon be mine.

The prisoner turned white as a sheet, but did not utter a word. The magician continued in the tone of a university lecturer:

— The process of memory retrieval is not a quick one. Do you feel drowsy? Are you dizzy, sire? Do you feel nauseous? If so, everything is going well. When your eyelids begin to droop by themselves, it's minutes. Once you're asleep, you'll never wake up. Or rather, you'll wake up a drooling fool with a mind as clear as the first snow. And I'll have the trouble of sorting out your memories. If you do decide to save me time and yourself sanity, tell me. Or nod if your tongue fails you.

There was silence in the only room of the forest hut. Everyone was looking at the prisoner — the bailiffs and the mage with undisguised curiosity, the elf with a mocking smile, and Lady Maria... strangely enough, with sincere sympathy. Although the alien was indirectly responsible for the death of her sisters, everything that was happening clearly disgusted the girl-guardian. But for some reason she did not hurry to join the guards outside. The stranger, on the other hand, was apparently listening to his inner feelings. Suddenly he pecked his nose. He jumped up and shook his head, but dropped it back to his chest. He tried to say something, but only mumbled.

— What, have you changed your mind, sire? — The elfess raised her golden eyebrows.

— Y... ye...— the stranger squeezed out.

— You'll do the talking yourself?

— Y... a... a... a... a...

— Carlon. — The girl nodded to the bearded man. The mage immediately pulled the hoop off his head and uncorked one of the many leather flasks on his belt:

— Drink this. It'll take the edge off and give you strength.

It took the stranger more than a quarter of an hour to recover. He looked at master Carlon with a mixture of horror and disgust. Finally, Valria decided it was time to ask questions.