Novel 3. The Last Autumn

— I'm afraid the latter is not only to our advantage, — Valria shook her head.

Swift shadows flashed over the heads of the spies. Two island dragons descended gracefully to the platform. Corporal Green jumped from the back of one. The lizard-man looked around quickly and, finding no threat, ran up to Valria and wrapped the elf in a hug.

— Yeah, yeah, they didn't leave you anything, sorry," the captain laughed softly, hugging her subordinate back.

The second dragon himself approached Armando. Small and frail even in her thick leather jacket, Akira leaned out of the saddle, told him:

— Please forgive us, sir Armando. We encountered a pack of continental dragons in mid-air. They attacked us at first light. We killed one, but lost half of our own... We arrived as soon as we could.

— Send someone for help and catch up with the dragons. — Valria dismissed the corporal, stepped forward. — They have important prisoners, they can't let them go.

— I'm afraid we can't stop them even if we intercept them, — Akira said hesitantly. — But if it's important, we'll try. Good luck to you.

Both dragons rose easily to the wing. Corporal Green stayed with his comrades on the platform. Valria walked with him to the edge and looked down. She said:

— There's a terrace below us. I saw a couple of rope ladders in the warehouse. We drop them and climb down, and from there we'll make our way to the beach. Away from the harbour, if there's still a fight going on. We won't unlock the base doors, there's a lot of extra people down there... By the way. Alex, did you say that the late sire triggered the base destruction mechanism? Can you finish his work?

— Yes, the password is in there, just turn the key and press the button. — The defector shifted his eyebrows. — But why? You don't want a whole trophy database?

— We could use it, — the captain sighed heavily. — But the Republic won't need it at all. We'll take the charges for Maria's rifle and Armando's gun, and that's enough. Let the Erdos dig up the rest if they want to. Just don't tell our clan mates, okay? Let's say it's Fulcanelli's fault.

She winked at the stranger. She added:

— By the way, Alex, I'm promoting you from combat slave to full company member. Right here on the battlefield. If your girlfriend's interested, I can make her a corporal. We value men of science in the company.

— She and I will discuss the offer, — the defector said uncertainly. — Thank you, Captain.

Alex and Anya left the site together, under the watchful eye of Sergeant Dallan. Valria, left alone with Armando and Green, exhaled noisily. Rubbing her cheeks with her gloved palms, she smiled:

— You know what I realised today, Don? A very important thing.

— Which one?

— If I'm ever going to wear a skirt, it'll be a skirt like the new girl. If you cut it at the side, you can even run...

* * *

— Two of three, — muttered master Carlon, sinking into a deep, cushioned chair. The wizard's head was covered with a clean cloth — he'd been slightly concussed in the sea battle, and Lady Maria had prescribed compresses for him.

— What are you talking about? — Valria asked languidly, sprawled on the soft couch.

— Our enemies had three leaders, — the maestro explained. — We killed the chief magician in the mountain fortress. The leader of the alien expedition was slapped by Armando. That left the leader of the local collaborators, Auguste. Their majesty. Political leader.

— We have no time to get to him, — Armando sighed, picking at a dish of fried seaweed with his fork. The Erdos were not averse to meat, especially pork, but in honour of a great victory they served seafood delicacies. Don de Gorazzo suspected that there was a subtle mockery in this.

There were only three of them in the half-dark living room, the others already asleep. Contrary to tradition, it wasn't a specially called meeting; it was just that the mage, the elf, and the former bailiff had stayed late, each for their own reasons. Valria, for example, was too lazy to get up from the couch.

The returned mercenaries were lodged by their allies in a cosy mansion on the outskirts of the clan capital. Two floors, a few servants, and just enough guards to keep the guests from thinking they'd been arrested. The Irutava clan was dealing with the aftermath of a small war within the Republic, and guests from the continent would only get in the way. They were kept up to date with the news, which was good enough.

— We may be short, — the mage muttered, touching the compress on his forehead. — But we know how to make friends, Don. You've proved it yourself. And we have Elvart at the very least, and maybe the Empire behind us. And we'll be back to the Coalition, we've got your lady of the heart to save. Sir Alex saved his own, how can we be any worse?

— She might not need rescuing. — Valria waved her palm in front of her face. — She's doing fine without us in there.

Armando grinned involuntarily. Yes, the captain was right. The latest news from the mainland was encouraging. The army of King Auguste the Strong, exhausted by nomadic raids and starved of supplies, had reached the borders of the Duchy of Velond. There it was met by the combined forces of the duchy and the rebel army of Marshal de Cotoci. The battle lasted until dark, after which the royal army retreated. The battlefield was left to the rebels, although Auguste was not completely defeated. In addition, Marshal de Cotoci began to openly form a sort of council of state. Donna Vittoria, former crown necromancer and now the marshal's advisor on magic, was officially included in it.

— We should assume that Auguste now has at least two dozen atomic bombs with activation codes and a couple of handheld aliens. Now that's something to worry about. — Valria reluctantly sat up, brushing a golden strand that had fallen over her eyes away from her face. — Akira and her pack of dragons had missed out. And they were from kingdom, there was nothing to think about. Took off from that ship Fulcanelli told you about. The Empire would have sent a dragon barge, and imperial sea dragons are smaller than ordinary ones. Auguste's been tracking the aliens from the beginning. Maybe he knew about our plan, too. It's normal for a kingdom to have spies in the Republic. But Auguste has his ears in the clans, too.

— Does this have any effect on our plans? — Master Carlon yawned.

— Not much. — The elf scratched her long ear, making it floppy. — We'll be on the islands a little longer, though. Armando will convince our Irutava friends to catch a few of Auguste's spies in their ranks, and I'll have a chat with them... before we sail for Elvart. Well, we've learnt more than our fair share of bad things from this mess. Alex, for instance, proved his loyalty. And he brought a new man into the fold. And I made a big decision that's gonna change my whole life.

— Which one? — Carlon asked after a long pause.

— I've decided to order myself a skirt, — announced a terribly pleased Valria.

The black-bearded mage coughed. Armando turned away to hide a silly smile. Looks like he had decided something for himself, too. Tough times were coming either way. And he was glad to go through them in such company. Couldn't have wished for better...

Part Three. The clock shows midnight.

Chapter 16

— Dark deeds are best done in the dark, — Don Armando hummed to himself as he strode through the streets of Innoto. Actually, the song of the Daertian smugglers was strictly about the opposite — that the darkest deeds are done in the daylight, in the gilded halls of the royal palaces. But the Don didn't care about that now — he was savouring an almost forgotten sensation. For the first time in a long time, the former royal bailiff was walking through the sleeping city not as a lurking fugitive, but as a representative of the law. Behind Armando's back a dozen soldiers rattled their armour, in his jacket pocket lay a rolled-up order signed by the Chancellor, and in his hand the don clutched a steel rod decorated with a coat of arms. The rod was his own — the local lawmen used a band with the emblem of the Republic as a symbol of authority. Out of pure childishness, de Gorazzo had taken it from the bottom of his bag and carried it with him today.

Armando had been in Erdos for a little over a month, but he had not had time to familiarise himself with its straight avenues and narrow alleys. But he was going to visit a mansion on one of the main streets tonight, so he was in no danger of getting lost. De Gorazzo stopped in front of a low carved gate, knocked on it with his rod. Then again. He was answered only by the barking of a lone dog.

— Sleeping? — suggested master Carlon. Apart from the soldiers of the Republic, Don Armando was accompanied only by him.

— Commander... — de Gorazzo nodded to the escort's chief. He took arquebus off his shoulder and blew the fuse. Than drew more air into his chest, shouted something in his native tongue, and fired into the air. His subordinates began to bang the shafts of their spears against the paving stones. Now all the dogs for many yards around were already stirring. The windows of the neighbouring houses began to flash — Armando had noticed at once that in such a rich district many people used golden magic lamps. Only the mansion they needed remained dark and silent.

— How long have the "shadows" been watching the house, commander? — Don asked the Erdosian.

— Since sundown, — he said. — If the master had left the house, we would have been signalled.

Armando looked up at the round pagoda of the temple at the end of the street. There, on the roof, near the gilded Sign of the Creator, a pair of shadow warriors lurked. Valria, armed with a crossbow, would have joined them a few minutes ago. The Don looked at the other roof and waved his hand, not seeing either the shadows or the elf. Pointed his finger at the gate. At the same moment, a flexible dark figure separated from the high ridge, slid down, and crossed the street. Clawing its claws, it swiftly climbed the steep stone fence and easily swung over the tiled ridge. Armando heard a snake-like hiss, and the dog's bark was cut short by a startled shriek.

— I hope he didn't... — Master Carlon started to say, but then the bolt rattled and the massive carved casements began to open.

— Good work, Corporal. — Armando smiled at Green, who opened the gate, and walked past him into the courtyard. The dog was all right — the lizard-man had just spat on it. Now the yellow dog with the pretzel tail was whimpering pitifully, with only his nose poking out of the box.

— Commander, the door. — When he saw that the entrance to the mansion was also locked, the don stepped aside. The door was not a gate; soldiers could kick it down.

The not-so-luxurious two-storey house was inhabited by an official of the Irutava clan. According to the Chancellor, he was the last candidate to be King Auguste's spy. There was no evidence against him, but the clan's intelligence had rejected other candidates. To get a legitimate reason for interrogation, Taiko brought to light some kind of tax fraud that had been organised by an official years ago and hushed up by the clan. Now it was back on the table, and Valria had somehow got the head of the Republic to authorise her to participate in the arrest. Perhaps the captain hoped to speak to the spy before the Chancellor's executioners.

— Btam-m! — The two burly soldiers slammed their shoulders into the front door, and it didn't even come off its hinges, just crumbled into planks.

— Stop! — Master Carlon suddenly gestured to the rest of the men who were about to attack. — Something's wrong.

Armando raised his eyebrows in mute question, and the mage explained:

— I can feel the magic in all the houses on the street. But that's just background from guard amulets or household charms. It was the same here. However, when the door was kicked in, I felt a surge... a faint one. And something in the background of the house began to change.

— A trap?

— Maybe.

— Where was the surge?

— On the first floor. — The mage scratched his beard glumly.

— What about the first one?

— Looks clean.

— Then let's go in after all, — Armando decided.

— All right. I'll go first. — The black-bearded imperial placed his palm on the hilt of his infantry cleaver, but did not bare it. — The rest of you, follow me. And don't let the soldiers touch anything without my permission.

Six men entered the mansion — de Gorazzo, the magician, the escort commander, and three of his subordinates, who switched their spears for swords. Carlon walked slowly, looking around carefully. He opened all the doors. Already behind the second one they were surprised by two dead bodies on the floor. An older man and a young boy, both in black nightgowns. Armando crouched down next to them, examining the dead men without touching them. He said, straightening up:

— Servants. This is their room. Killed with a stiletto or other thin blade. The blows are precise, like a professional. No blood on the floor, but these wounds don't bleed much. Still, it's unlikely they were both killed in the same place. There's no sign of a struggle, so neither was expecting an attack.

— I have a bad feeling about their master, — Carlon said, growing darker than ever.

The mage's fears were confirmed when the group climbed the stairs to the first floor. The owner of the mansion was not in the bedroom, but in the study. He was sitting at a desk with his nose buried in some papers — deader than the woollen carpet on the floor of the room. A dagger with a plain black hilt protruded from the official's back. Armando took a step forward, but the mage grabbed him by the shoulder:

— Freeze! What did I say?

— You said not to touch anything. — De Gorazzo stepped back to the threshold. — I wasn't going to...

The imperial mage sneaked closer to the table, stared at the corpse for a moment. He grinned crookedly:

— That's clever. Only I've seen it before, alas and alack.

— What is it? — Armando asked, fighting the urge to wipe away the sweat. The former bailiff had convinced himself that the situation did not frighten him, but the vapour on the don's temples did come to the surface. Magic was still an area in which he was and always would be helpless. And that, you know, was unpleasant.

— The dagger is bronze, with copper trim. — Master folded his arms across his chest, never taking his eyes off the dead man. — Not a gram of steel. It is a trap. Activated by contact with blood. You stick it in, you set it off. If you take the blade out of the body, the dagger...

— It will explode, — Armando finished for him.

— You're beginning to understand something about magic, Don. — The mage grinned wider. — That's right. These things were in vogue a hundred years ago, but they're still around now. But they have to be recharged, and this one was energised at least a year ago.