Novel 3. The Last Autumn

— Okay, Alex. But why didn't you say anything to the others? — The bearded imperial stared at the elf. — Dallan doesn't know either, does he?

— Because spy games are dirty. — The Captain fought back a glare with a dazzling smile. — The only way to stay clean is to not play them. And I want Dallan to smell like the perfume I give her all the time. Nothing else.

— We're up to our eyebrows...

— This is different. — Valria twitched her ears. — Just trust me, if there was anything you could do to help, I'd tell you right away and get you involved.

— Shouldn't you have told Anya? — Alex frowned, standing next to the mage. — She's not the only one who's affected by your plan.

— I'm still working on getting her to start talking to me at all. — The captain's smile faded. — It's not easy to be friends with someone whose friends you've killed. Okay, I promise not to do that again.

— Take your hand out of your pocket, — Carlon commanded sternly. The elfess obeyed with a sigh.

— I knew it, — the mage snorted. — Fingers crossed? Really? Promise me one more time.

With a sour mien, the girl raised her hands:

— I promise. You have no beef with Armando, then? Just me?

— Armando is not my squad leader, — the mage said.

— Great power requires great responsibility, — Alex nodded seriously. — A wise man said before he died.

After half a day's rest, the group led by Valria visited the port and talked to the navigator Elena. The dark-haired elven woman kept a cool demeanour, showing that would prefer to go on a quiet trade voyage rather than load the adventurous crew back on board. But Armando strongly suspected that this displeasure was ostentatious, and that the navigator liked the prospect of dangerous adventures following the mercenaries as much as Dorlt did. In the evening the personal belongings of the squad were delivered to the Helena's quarters. In the morning, cannon volleys rang out over Innoto Harbour. The fort protecting the entrance to the harbour was firing blanks. A squadron of naval vessels was coming into the harbour raid. The mainmast of the huge flagship galleon was adorned with the flag of the Republic of Iolia. The group watched their approach from the pier. Master Carlon looked at the flagship and nodded to Sergeant Dallan. The green-eyed warrior nodded back and gave Valria a symbolic slap....

Chapter 17

— A galleon of sixty guns, three carracks and four galleasses, — said Boyarin Yuriev, resting his palms on the wooden rail of the "Elenas" quarterdeck. The ships he listed were now standing in a beautiful line on the roadstead, blocking the exit from the harbour. Innoto's sea fortress held the uninvited guests at gunpoint, but there was no reason to open fire. Technically, the Iolians had come with the best of intentions.

— Their admiral spoke to the Senate today, — the one-eyed Virian continued, keeping his eye on the ships. — He said that Trident, the ruling council of Iolia, was concerned about the internal squabbles of their Coalition friends. They's sent ground troops to help King Augustus and the navy to help us. Then the bastard had a private word with the taiko, and there he laid it all out. Augustus has the Trident by the throat.

— Bombs, — Valria said affirmatively. The captain sat on the same fence and wiggled her legs like a little girl. The salt-scented wind fluttered her long, wavy hair and swayed the caravel, making Armando think that the elf could topple overboard at any moment.

— Bombs, — the Virian nodded. — In all three Iolian capitals. And the Iolians now know how they work. Their representatives were with Auguste's army.

— But according to Imperial reports, Trident is already so tightly linked to the conspirators, — added master Carlon, who was standing beside Valria. Armando wondered to himself — if the ship tilted too much, would the magician catch the girl falling into the sea or would he push her? — The Iolian bankers had given the lion's share of the money to create the portal. Auguste had just... moved up in the hierarchy, I suppose.

— In any case, the Iolians were now at his beck and call. — The Boyarin grinned wryly, showing that he had no sympathy for them. The relations between the two republics were far from friendly at all times, united only by their fear of the Empire. — Admiral read out the demands of their great majesty — to hand over the people involved, according to his words, in the murder of Queen Octavia, as well as prisoners and trophies captured in the fortress of aliens. Especially something called a laptop computer.

— Otherwise, what? — Valria stopped dangling her feet and glanced at Yuriev.

— Otherwise, the Iolians will start helping us to restore order inside the country. — Yuriev's grin turned into a wolf's grin. — With all their might. Blockade the major ports, start thoroughly inspecting all merchant ships, seize cargoes of iron, weapons, other... harmful and dangerous things. They will make sure that no more than three ships gather in one port... That's the plan. It'll be a hell of a blow to our trade. The Erdo fleet is scattered across the islands, weakened by strife. It'll take three or four months to pull the bastards out of Republic waters. All the clans will lose a lot of money.

— What will the Chancellor do?

— Now he took the admiral to look at the spoils. Well, the rubbish we dug out from under the rockslides, the hulls of burnt-out flying machines... — Borjain looked at the elfess too. — It'll take a couple of days. If you are still in Innoto by then, you will be handed over to the Iolians. However, sir Irutava also asked me to tell you that he has no doubt that Captain Valria already has a plan.

— And he was absolutely right. — The elven woman threw her legs over the bulwark, jumped to the deck. She smiled broadly, wiggled her ears. — Or almost. I need another minute.

— We could try to leave Innoto by land and take a fishing boat from the other end of the island, — Armando said, rubbing his chin. — We'll get to another island in the archipelago, and from there we'll take a ship....

— Too logical, — Valria said dismissively. — That's what we're expected to do. Besides, Snowflake won't fit in the boat. We need something more... Hm...

The girl's ears perked up, eyes wide. She slammed her fist into her palm:

— Sir Yuriev, is the Chancellor willing to give us a little help in escaping?

— Within reasonable limits. — The Boyarin was visibly wary. Looks like he was beginning to realise what Valria was.

— What are you, a philosopher? — The elf raised her golden eyebrows. — How are we supposed to know the limits of reason? Let's keep it simple. First we need to discuss the details with Skipper Dorlt and his boring daughter, but we'll need to burn something anyway, maybe even blow it up....

An hour before midnight, a small vessel with a single mast and a long bowsprit departed from one of Innoto's wharves. But as soon as the ship hoisted its sails, the harbour was alarmed, alarm fires flared and trumpets blared. Two war galleys and a large caravel rushed in pursuit of the ship. The alarm was also noticed at the roadstead. The Iolian ships were illuminated by the light of oil lanterns and magic lamps. Their crews watched the chase, slow to intervene. Soon, however, it became clear that the fugitive was aiming to leave the harbour. For such an occasion the squadron evidently had clear orders. One of the galleasses dropped anchor. Dozens of oars struck the water, and the vessel, twice the size of the Erdos galleys, moved to intercept the dull shell. At the same instant the pursuers began to fire.

— Boom! Boom! — The bow guns of the galleys rang out. It was hard to see where the cannonballs had hit, but the little ship suddenly burst into flames as if it had been doused with oil. It was probably oiled. Several human figures jumped from its side into the sea, and the ship ran straight at the flagship, still anchored in the centre of the formation. Galleass abruptly changed course, dodging the collision with the floating fire, the flagship hastily began to fish the anchor, unfurling the sails. Several of its cannons struck at random, missing their target. They were followed by a more organized salvo — a dozen shells at once covered the flaming vessel. It wiggled and began to plunge into the waves with its bow, losing speed. The broken mast collapsed across the deck.

In the turmoil the Iolians had forgotten all about pursuers. Meanwhile, the caravel caught the wind and swung into the gap that opened when the squadron broke formation. She passed astern of the shifting flagship... and struck a salvo from all aboard. At point-blank range, straight at the galleon's stern.

— Ha-ha, there is! — laughed Skipper Dorlt, standing on the quarterdeck. The elf ears stuck upwards. — The rudder is in splinters! Ha-ha-ha!

Considering that his daughter was pointing the guns, this result was not surprising. The "Elena" broke out of the bay, leaving the Iolian squadron behind. The Erdos galleys spread apart, blocking the path of the squadron's smaller ships. The fort began to fire all its cannons as if at a caravel, but the cannonballs fell short, raising fountains of water between the "Elena" and the Iolians. The flagship galleon, having lost her rudder, retracted her sails again, and dropped two anchors. The cannon ports of the huge ship, facing the sea, opened — the gun crew hurriedly ran from one side to the other. The magical shields came to life belatedly, covering the ship with shimmering plates of transparent armour.

— Fsh-shoo! Shh-shh-shh! — Ballistae launched magical projectiles from fore and aft of the flagship. They weren't fire arrows or lightning bolts. Two white spheres of blindingly bright light soared upwards and began to slowly descend, illuminating the sea surface. Now the fleeing "Elena" was visible as in the palm of her hand. Not for long, however. A winged shadow flashed in the sky, rushed to one of the spheres. It grabbed it with its hind legs, crushed it, threw it into the sea. A few seconds — and the same fate befell the second "firefly". The forty-barrel guns of the air defence crackled from the same platforms on the galleon's quarterdeck and bow, spitting out streams of lead into the sky. But the dragon was not going to attack the squadron — having disposed of the spheres, it simply disappeared into the night. In the same way, the "Elena", which had extinguished its lanterns, melted into the gloom. The turmoil on the roadstead was only growing, aggravated by the fact that the Iolian admiral was visiting the Senate palace on the shore....

— I have no idea how sir Irutava will prove now that he had nothing to do with our escape. — It was only when the light of Innoto's lighthouse was a faint dot on the horizon that Armando took a breath.

— He's a skilled schemer, he'll get out of it, — Skipper Dorlt assured him with a grin.

— And then, he doesn't need to seriously convince the Iolians of his innocence, — Carlon added. The mage had been on deck during the breakthrough, but his skills had never come in handy. The plan, marvellous in its audacity, drawn up by the three elves, had worked like clockwork. Cautiousness of "Elena's" navigator perfectly balanced Valria's fantasy bordering on idiocy. It was the captain who suggested the idea of the breakthrough, but the black-haired elfess provided a dozen of backup options, including air cover, which really came in handy in the end. The skipper ensured that the plans were put into action.

— Now that it is clear that we have escaped, the Iolians have no reason to interfere with Erdos trade, except out of sheer competition, — the mage continued. — But they have no time for that now, they have a chase to make. I wouldn't worry about the Republic. We'd better decide where we're going...

Something swept over the "Elena", narrowly missing the mast. A dragon, large by island standards, overtook the caravel, swung round, and landed on the bow of the ship. A slim figure jumped down from its back and waved to the men on the deck. Half a minute later, Akira, the young dragon rider, ran up the stairs. She clutched her leather helmet in one hand and used the other to smooth her short black hair. A long, unruly strand of it, however, was sticking up on the top of her head.

— Good night, gentlemen and ladies. — The girl bowed quickly. Straightening up, she flashed her black eyes. — My lord, taiko Irutawa, sends you a parting gift and wishes you a good journey.

— Let me guess. — Valria squinted, playing with the collar of her blouse. — This gift is you?

— No, Captain. — The dragonrider looked up at the elf from below without tilting her head, her eyes averted. Small and frail, looking like a teenager in her nineteen years, Akira held herself with quiet dignity. — The gift was Amagi.

The girl pointed at the dragon. She added in an even tone:

— Taiko has placed him under the command of Skipper Dorlt. Amagi will help you get home, and I'll take care of him on the way. We will escort you to the shores of the Empire, then return to the Republic with the "Elena". Those are my master's orders.

— Will you write letters home? — The golden-haired elf let go of her collar and put her hands behind her back. — You didn't go to school for nothing, did you? It was on the Clan's dime, too.

— I will, — the thin girl replied artlessly.

— Good for you. I'll be helping you. — Valria's smile brightened in a way that perhaps could have given "Elena" away to a likely pursuit. — Checking literacy before shipping, for example. I went to school, too, you know. For almost thirty years straight...

— You shouldn't bother, my grades have always been excellent. — Akira bowed her head, as if she didn't even realise the irony in the captain's voice. — But I don't mind.

— That's the deal. — Valria grabbed Armando and Carlon by the shoulders and pulled them aside, as little as the modest dimensions of the crawlspace allowed. She looked over her shoulder at the skipper and Akira and whispered conspiratorially:

— Gentlemen, I need ideas. We just have to convince her to join our company permanently before the end of the voyage. Along with the dragon, of course.

Chapter 18

— Armando! Armando! Hey! — The quiet, intrusive voice began to wake him up. He yawned, struggled to open his eyelids... and then someone grabbed his nose with two fingers.

— Ugh! — De Gorazzo made a sudden attempt to sit up, and nearly paid for it by falling to the floor.

— Shh-shh, easy! — Captain Valria grabbed the don by the shoulders, preventing him from falling out of the narrow sailor's hammock. Armando looked round dazedly. He and the elven woman were alone in the semi-dark cabin where Skipper Dorlt had put the male passengers. An oil pot burned on a square table, dim daylight and voices came through the ajar door, and the wood creaked softly.