Novel 2. Royal Justice

— But you attacked Minerva, Don, — Valria said softly. She placed her palm on the young man's shoulder, causing him to freeze and swallow once more. "A virgin," de Gorazzo stated in his mind with complete certainty.

— I didn't think she'd listen so easily... she was always going along with her... mate. I wanted to talk to her on the ground, calmly.

— Well, it doesn't matter now, — the elfess said firmly. — How did you know where to find us?

— The king told me to start my search from the Black Brooks Valley. That's where his men met me. A few days ago, someone told them that you were all travelling the river together, and that you were being trapped by local... forces. The king's men couldn't get here in time, so they asked me to help. So I went.

The elven woman exchanged expressive glances with the mage. Armando, too, realised without further explanation what it meant for him and his comrades. Since Auguste's local agents had found out the true number and location of the squad, this information would reach the capital any day now. And they will draw conclusions. And, quite possibly, they will guess that the group is aiming at the fortress with the portal. Whether they would be able to notify the garrison, and what measures they would take, was another matter.

— Well, it's my turn to be frank. — Captain Valria was serious, her tone ringing with a dramatic note that the young knight must have taken at face value. — Don Marius, what if I told you that it wasn't Don de Ardano who dragged your cousin into this story? What if I told you that she is helping us at the personal request of Queen Octavia?...?

The fire was made of dried driftwood taken from the beach and supplemented with twigs from the nearest bushes. Everyone, except Corporal Green and the dragons of course, drank the strong black tea. Valria even allowed them to open a pouch of expensive crushed sugar to sweeten the drink. The elfess herself was hardly distracted by the food — she was working the young dragon knight with inspiration, and he was listening to the girl with his mouth open. De Gorazzo felt a pang of envy. He considered himself an excellent liar, and he knew how to pour lies into people's ears no less spectacularly. But the captain did not lie — she told almost exclusively true facts to her interlocutor. But in such a way that the boy blushed and turned pale. By the end of breakfast results was achieved.

— I'll go home and tell you what really happened, — Marius said firmly. — Everyone must know...

— Absolutely not, Don Marius, — the elf interrupted him. — It would be reckless. You will be killed. My advice to you is to hide somewhere until your dragon's wing heals, and then fly to the Duchy of Velonda. Marshal de Cotoci's army should appear there. If the Marshal's army is elsewhere, fly there. Look for Donna Vittoria, the former court necromancer. Tell the Donna of this meeting, repeat my words. She will tell you what to do next.

— Good. If you say so, fair lady, I'll lay low, — the young man nodded. — And please forgive me for all the harsh words... Minerva, and I'm sorry you believed you were deceived.

— It's nothing, — the knight-girl raised her palm. — The main thing is to take care of Toad. There are no dragon castles anywhere, and you shouldn't go into the big cities. Find a village with a blacksmith's shop, have them put a tyre on Toad's wing. It's not like shoeing a horse, but it's easy. Don't let anyone see you until the wing's fixed.

They left the camp at the young man's disposal, pitching a good tent for him and chopping wood for the fire. Climbing on the back of his sleeping dragoness, Don Marius waved long after the party. When the green dragon with the white human figure on her back was out of sight, Captain Valria grinned dreamily and said, closing her eyes:

— Such a nice young man. I'm sorry to let him go, he'd be a good addition to my company. A pure heart, a light soul... not like you, Carlon.

— Yeah, — the mage snorted into his beard. — You can't brainwash me like that, and Dallan sees right through you, though she still loves you for something.

— A good present I gave your friend, eh, Don Armando? — The sharp-eared girl ignored the Master's words. — I don't know how she'll use it, but I'm sure the dragon will be useful to Donna Necromancer.

— Yes... if they meet, — de Gorazzo said absently. As he had not had much rest during the day, he was still drowsy.

— They will, — the elf promised him. — Believe in the best, Don. We have such an important task ahead of us that pessimism is unacceptable.

Chapter 18

The fortress looked rather unusual. It was... long. A low wall, reinforced by three round towers, stretched along the southern slope of the ravine about halfway up. The general plan of the fortress resembled an oval, with a gate at the eastern end and a squat donjon tower at the western end. Even from a distance it was obvious that the fortifications had seen better days. The stonework was crumbling in places, and the galleries and tower platforms lacked roofs and battlements. At the same time, it was easy to see that the fortress was inhabited. The holes in the walls were filled with bricks, and the setting sun, about to disappear behind the crests of the mountains, painted these patches a dark scarlet colour. From the gate, the road was unpaved but well-travelled.

— I don't know anything about the fortress itself, but I think it predates the Coalition, — Armando said, carefully wiping the sweat from his forehead. He and Valria had been watching the fortification from a safe distance for a quarter of an hour now, cloaked in camouflage cloaks. She had made the cloaks herself, modelled them on the aliens' camouflage, an olive-green cloth with a net stitched over it, into which she had woven dark rags and twigs she had picked up on the spot. — The valley beyond the gorge was divided between the kingdom and the two republics. In case of war with the latter, it was easier to abandon the scrap of land on the plain and hold the enemy armies here. As the threat of war disappeared, so the fortress was abandoned. Good thing the gorge is inconvenient for travelling, there's no need to guard the traders. Goods are carried by water along the Senara.

— Lucky bastards, — the captain told him. — It is convenient to weave intrigues from here, but the portal could have successfully opened elsewhere. There were several places where the Order had experimented.

— Is the alien base anywhere near here?

— Not exactly. From what the prisoner told me, it's just up the valley. But given that we don't know their transport capabilities, it's better to assume that the aliens are close. — The girl sniffed her nose. — Well, that's enough for now. We won't see much from here. Let's go back.

The main forces of the group were stationed in a deep hollow, where even the dragon had enough room. For the sake of secrecy, Charcoal had been travelling on foot for the last day of the journey, and now he lay beside the tents, glancing askew at the nervous horses.

— It was a pity we didn't have a miracle net to cover the lizard, — the elf lamented as she and Armando made their way down to the camp. — Maybe the garrison is patrolling the air... We can only hope that a black dragon is hard to see at night.

It was just getting dusk in the gorge, but the sun had gone down much earlier in the hollow between the rocks. There was no fire, however, for the enemy was too close at hand. Even the magic lamp-stones glowed faintly only inside the tents, which were covered with branches. Near one of them, master Carlon was handing out cold rations to his comrades.

— Hey, what about me?! — Valria's ears perked up, she sprinted down the slope and ran up to the mage. — Me?!

The mage rolled his eyes and handed the captain a rusk covered with a piece of dried meat. Asked:

— Did you find out anything?

The elf sniffed her portion, pressing her ears tightly against her head. She answered without looking at the Master:

— Get ready, we're going scouting after dinner. I'll take you and Green. You assess the magic, and I'll figure out a way in and out.

The girl opened her mouth to take a bite, but she froze. The air seemed to thicken between her and the mage revealing a tall, slender figure. A second, and Lady Jana stood before the captain. The dead Guardswoman put her palm to her chest and gave a half bow. When she was sure she had attracted attention, she stepped aside and drew Queen Octavia's sword from its sheath. She swung it and froze, pointing it exactly where the Order's fortress was behind the rocks. She unclenched her fingers, letting the weapon fall. The heavy-looking blade touched the ground silently, the stalks of blades of grass passing through the grey steel like mist.

— Hm... — the captain took a bite of the "dry sandwich" and chewed it thoroughly. Only then she asked: — And what does it mean?

The ghost picked up the sword, repeated the pantomime. She dropped the sword a second time and showed Valria her empty palms. The guardswoman's face remained incredibly serious, her eyes burning with golden fire.

— Ah! — said master Carlon, clapping his hands. — I understand, I think.

— One hit. — Armando furrowed his brow. Perhaps it was the evenings spent reading together, but the bailiff understood Jana better than anyone else lately. — She said she could only throw one hit.

— I figured it out myself, — Valria snorted. — One blow would be enough, even if there were many enemies, wouldn't it?

The ghost nodded. She picked up her sword and, instead of fading away as usual, strode toward Armando's tent. She made a gesture as if he were pulling it back before she stepped through the canopy.

— You seem to be making friends, Don, — the elfess said mockingly. — I should take her remark into account in my planning.

The scouts, led by the captain, left after they had finished their meagre supper. Donna Minerva stood guard, and the others went to bed. De Gorazzo found no ghost in his tent, though there was a familiar chill inside. He crawled under his blanket and realised that he didn't want to sleep at all. The day had not been easy, but fatigue had transformed into a strange excitement. His thoughts were racing through his head, and his back itched like a cold. He couldn't sleep, but he couldn't concentrate on anything, couldn't think in silence either. Armando wanted more than anything to jump up and shout at the moon while swinging his sword. Or to find some alcohol in his bags and drink himself into oblivion. After an hour of tossing and turning from side to side, Don sat up, took out the stone lamp, and discovered that the guardswoman's ghost was here after all. Lady Jana was sitting in a familiar pose with her legs tucked under her. Apparently she had been waiting patiently for de Gorazzo to tire of rolling around on the crumpled blanket. Smiling at the don, the ghostly girl pointed to a puffy book at the head of his bed.

— Oh, damn it... — Armando slapped his forehead. — I'm sorry, lady, I forgot. Let's read it, really.

The book he had borrowed from Lady Maria was the diary of an imperial traveller who had visited the oases of the southern deserts more than a century ago. As he read it aloud to the ghost, the Don himself had not noticed how engrossed he had become, curious about the lives of Gotech's kin. The black-skinned giant himself could not tell much, for he had been born in Daert, and his parents had returned home many years ago with the money they had saved. Reading helped the former bailiff calm down a bit. When he finished the chapter, he wanted to lie down — but Lady Jana gestured for Armando to continue. This happened three times, until de Gorazzo realised that she wanted to know the end of the story today.

— Why don't we do it at the next sleepover? — Armando suggested, just to be sure. The ghost shook her head to confirm his guess.

— You won't be able to... or will I?

Jana did not answer him — she only tried to look into the book herself. With a sigh, the don went back to reading. He had barely had time to turn the last page before heard quiet voices outside. The scouts had returned.

— Well, that's it, — de Gorazzo said to the ghost and closed the book. — That was a good story, wasn't it?

A smile reappeared on Lady Jana's lips, a warmer smile than usual. The ghost nodded before slowly vanishing into thin air.

— I hope ours ends up being as good as this... — the don muttered under his breath, looking at the fabric of the tent through the spot where his companion had just been.

As soon as she arrived at the camp, Captain Valria took the bull by the horns, personally waking each of her companions and gathering the group under the slumbering dragon's side. She leaned her back against the warm side of the lizard, folded her hands on her chest and said:

— It's not going to be an easy case.

— Really? — Gotech yawned in fake surprise. — Why didn't you say so before? Armando and I might have changed our minds about joining you.

— We've been all around the fortress, — the pointy-eared girl ignored the teasing. — The walls are shabby, but all the holes have been patched. The density of posts is high. Constant roll calls. It's impossible to remove the sentries on a section of wall without the neighbours seeing. Judging by the frequency of guard changes, the garrison is at least two hundred men. As darkness falls, two mages climb the towers, activate the summoning circles drawn on the outside of the walls. They summon a pack of small demons, who roam under the fortifications until dawn.

— The magical circuit of the walls is in good condition, — added the now out of breath master Carlon. The black-bearded imperial mage had a harder time crawling through the mountains than the young elf. — Demons don't even need to be controlled — they can smell people outside the fence and stomp around, though they can't reach them. The mages are replaced once. I'm guessing there's no more than six of them in the fortress. Considering someone else has to study the portal. The portal itself is definitely inside, under the donjon. It glows so bright you can see through the stone with your magic vision. It looks like it's been used recently, though, and it's recharging now.

— I doubt it's common practice to have demonologists on the walls every night, — the elf said. — The garrison had probably been alerted to the threat of attack, and it was a security precaution. Nevertheless, I've found a weakness. Dallan, give me something to chew on.

The sergeant pulled a strip of dry meat from her belt pouch and handed it to the commander. She sank her teeth into the meat, gnawed off a hard piece, chewed it. Enjoying the impatient looks of her companions, she continued: