Novel 3. The Last Autumn

— But we're not fat, — the elf said reasonably. — Okay, it's our turn to scare. Akira! On the wing!

The young rider repeated the command to the dragon. Amagi, black as night and decorated with crimson stripes, spread his webbed wings. He gave a triumphant roar, pushed off the deck and soared. For a brief moment, the "Elena" sagged forward, almost scooping up water, and the men on the deck hastily clung to the bulwark or tiller to keep their balance. Akira stayed below — there was a battle to be fought, and a rider would only hinder the lizard.

The two caravels were approaching each other so rapidly that it seemed as if they were about to collide. The cannons of the pirate ship fired one after the other, the gunners obviously impressed by the dragon's flight. A pair of cannonballs whistled to the left and above, sending fountains of white foam far astern of the "Elena". After the salvo, the two-master turned slightly to the side, dodging the collision. The navigator took advantage of this, also shifting her helm. "Elena" turned, caught the wind, accelerated... and found herself on the same course with the enemy. The caravels exchanged volleys from a hundred and fifty paces away — the pirates' single onboard cannon against the "Elena's" three guns. Pirate buckshot killed a couple of sailors on the battens and left holes in the lower sails. The return salvo wreaked far greater havoc in the enemy's ranks. Several bodies tumbled overboard, others fell to the deck. A minute more, and the ships collided to the deafening crack of wood. Boarding hooks flew from both sides.

Naturally, no one demanded that the passengers take part in the fight. Moreover, Elena, the navigator, even suggested that they wait out the fight in their cabins. Captain Valria rejected her suggestion almost with indignation, but the rest of the company unanimously supported their commander. Immediately after the collision, the "Elena's" swivel guns rumbled, the sailors' crossbows clicked, and the ringing shots of Maria's rifle joined the cannonade. The pirates managed to fire a few crossbow shots in response... and then Amagi landed on their deck. Such a trick was impossible with a warship. The dragon would have been met with a hurricane of lead from volley guns, steel nets over the deck, and magical shields. The pirates could afford nothing of the sort. So the winged lizard came at the caravel from the freeboard without much finesse, plopped down in the middle of the deck, and worked its tail, paws, and mouth. The bodies of the sailors flew in all directions like broken marionettes. The enemy's formation, shaken by the volley, broke completely.

— Attack! — Shouted Skipper Dorlt, swinging his sabre. — Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

The "Elena" sailors, led by their commander, rushed aboard the two-masted ship. The mercenaries followed them. Armando kept pace with his companions, though he was not eager to join the front ranks. The battle immediately rolled aft, as the pirates, scattered by the dragon, were unable to close ranks, and the Dorlt sailors pressed on, giving no respite. De Gorazzo jumping over a corpse ripped open by dragon clawsand and saw a hatch open in the deck. A couple of enemies had rolled down there in a panic. The Don pointed his sword at the hatch and rushed in with the Lady Maria and a dozen boarding parties. The narrow gangway would have been a convenient place for defence, but the pirates who had fled down below did not even try to defend themselves — they fled further away, throwing down their weapons. Leaving the pursuit to the sailors, the former bailiff looked around. The chase led him to a corridor on the lower deck, flanked by doors. Locked from the outside with sturdy deadbolts. The deadbolts were crudely made and seemed unnecessary.

— When a pirate ship is locked from the outside, it's not a good thing, — Armando muttered under his breath. — Ladies! This way, please!

Maria was immediately at his side, clutching a naked sword in her hand. Heavy scarlet drops fell from the long blade — though her weapon was not particularly suited to boarding, the girl guard had slain three or four enemies with it. Nodding to the pale lady, Don de Gorazzo unlatched the bolt on the nearest door and pushed it open. Cautiously peered inside. He swore quietly through his teeth as half-naked, skinny men flung themselves away from him, covering their heads with their hands....

The pirate ship was in the hands of the "Elena's" crew in just half an hour. It took another half an hour to check all the nooks and crannies where the most sneaky enemies could hide. Most of the pirates were killed on deck, two dozen surrendered. The "Elena's" losses were six men killed, ten wounded, and Amagi suffered a couple of scratches from axe blows to his fender. The damage to both caravels was negligible. It was for the best, for in the holds of the two-masted ship the Anelonians found fifty prisoners, mostly merchants and sailors from merchant ships.

— It was our ship, — said one of them, a gaunt Northerner, squinting into the sun that was not bright at all. — The "St. Brigitta". We were on our way with a cargo of salted fish from the archipelago. We were captured a month ago, not far to the north-east. We took a hell of a beating on the bastards' shell, so they took the "St. Brigitte". I was first mate, captain was killed in action.

— Are all these prisoners your men? — Elena asked, taking over the conversation. It took place right on the deck of the trophy ship, among the corpses, which the former prisoner was looking at with visible pleasure.

— No. — The Northman sighed heavily. — Ten of the men are mine. The rest were from other ships captured later. Northerners, Iolians, Erdosians... I gather those bastards wanted to sell us to the Steppe once the holds were full. Sounds like they had connections in a southern port.

— But their luck has changed, — said master Carlon, who was standing nearby and listening to the conversation.

— That's right, — the northerner grinned wickedly into his dirty russet beard.

— Unfortunately, we can't take you to the harbour, Herr Heufmann, — Elena told the former prisoner. — We have our own business to attend to. But this ship is in good working order and you have enough men to run it. They are exhausted, but it's not far to shore, and you'll probably meet Republic warships. Ask them for help, hand over the prisoners. Don't be in a hurry to avenge the pirates, there may be a bounty on their heads.

— Yes, of course, — the northerner nodded tiredly. — We'll get to Silenna now. What can I do for you, lady Navigator? The pirates' treasury is supposedly yours now...

— Keep it, — the black-haired elfess said graciously. — If you want to show your gratitude, don't rush to tell the details of your escape. Especially don't mention dragon. Some of your sailors will tell, but don't let it happen until later.

— I see, — said the Brigitte's first mate with a chuckle. — I won't ask any questions.

— And another thing, — said master Carlon. — You are from the Northern Isles. Do you have connections in Elvart?

— Well... yeah. More like a couple of our merchants than myself.

— Then would you be so kind as to deliver one letter to the duchy when you get to land? In the quickest way possible. — The imperial mage stroked his thick beard. — Give me half an hour to compose it. It will be the best thing you can do for us, Herr Heufmann...

Chapter 22

Armando hoped in his heart that all their troubles would end with the passage to the northern seas. That's why when one morning skipper Dorlt told the passengers that the "Elena" had successfully rounded the continent, the former royal bailiff was relieved. It seemed that this was it. There was nothing between them and Elvart but water without any obstacles. Just set the ship on course and sail straight to the imperial shores. The more north the caravel got, the cloudier the sky became, the more often the cold wind blew. It wasn't just the latitude the ship was crossing — summer was coming to an end. It was autumn, and even in Daert it was probably raining more and more often now. But, of course, the last leg of the journey could not go so smoothly. Two days later the commander of the "Elena" called the guests to the quarterdeck.

— Coming from the continent, — he said dryly, pointing to the points on the starboard side. — They're not the same ones that were after us before. No galleons, five carracks and two caravels. They're all brand-new, unbroken, not weather-beaten.

— But how did they intercept us? — Valria asked, squinting amusedly. She, like the Anelonians, didn't need a spyglass to see the pursuers.

— The commander of the past pursuers was no fool, I suppose, — the bearded elf snorted under his breath. — Ha! When he realised where we were going, he sent the information by courier ship or even by horse messenger overland. Those shells were clearly out of the northern ports of Iolia, and they were on the lookout for us.

— Will we break away from them? — The captain glanced at Dorlt, one ear cocked. — They didn't have time to block our path.

— I'm afraid it might not work out. — Elena, the navigator, answered instead of her father. — The wind favours straight sails, if we go east, the carracks will overtake us. There's a chance if we go further north, or turn back. But what are we looking for there?

There was an uncomfortable silence on the quarterdeck. Only the rudder creaked and the wind sang in the gear. Finally, the dark-haired elf woman spoke up:

— Archipelago. The northern archipelago. If we go not just east, but northeast, more seaward, we can get past the Iolians and reach the Zeerige Islands. Home of the Iderling dynasty. It's a stone's throw from there to Elvart.

— Zeerige had been neutral in all matters for a hundred years. — Valria rubbed her chin thoughtfully. — But that opens up the prospect for... stratagems. If we're allowed into their ports, of course.

— If we get there first, why shouldn't the Northerners let us in? — the skipper grinned. — We'll enter the harbour as an ordinary merchant ship. Then we'll figure something out.

— Well, then that's what we'll do. — The golden-haired elfess slammed her fist into her palm. The leather of her long gloves creaked. — You get us to the northern islands, and I'll come up with a plan for what to do next.

The chain of islands appeared on the horizon three days later. The silhouettes of the Iolian ships that remained astern were growing frighteningly closer. Armando could already see bunches of white sails on high masts without the help of optics. The beautiful navigator was, of course, right — if the "Elena" had taken a course directly to the east, the Republican squadron would have caught up with her long ago. Now the caravel had a chance.

Formally, the capital of the Kingdom of Zeerige was the city of Rokhus, the seat of the High King. The real heart of the archipelago has always been the ports, and the largest of them is Odisyotl. It was into its bay, protected by a pair of squat forts, that the "Elena" entered. As if nothing had happened, the ship made her way to the free pier, dropped anchor, and took on board the customs officials. The crew went about loading provisions and making minor repairs without any haste. Several hours passed before the Iolian squadron appeared on the harbour roadstead. All seven ships were anchored outside the range of the forts.

— It all depends on the reaction of the local authorities, — Valria told her comrades, smirking with more than a little bravado. The captain of the free company looked as if she had everything under control, though Armando knew that she had not made a plan. The elf liked to put the pieces of the puzzle together at the very last moment, with all the information she had.

Having found a good spot at the edge of the quay, the fugitives established there an observation point for the enemy's squadron. They saw the flagship launch a dinghy with the banner of the Republic at the stern, and the Iolian delegation, led by a officer in a large white plume hat, land in the harbour and proceed deep into the city.

— I'd like to slaughter them quietly before they get to the governor, — Armando said dreamily.

— It won't do anything to the ships, — the golden-haired elf objected. She gave the Iolian leader an envious glance, took off her own hat, and smoothed the white feathers stuck in it. The feathers had become very worn during her many wanderings and battles. — Unless the enemy sends a new party to search for the missing one, we'll cut them off too. And then another, and another, and another, and another, until the squadron runs out of men. But I don't think that's gonna work.

The Republicans did not return until evening. They loaded into a dinghy and set sail. And when it got dark, the "Elena" was visited by an official from Odisyotl Town Hall. The dialogue with him was short — the northerner even refused to go to the skipper's office. The Zeerige representative said what the fugitives expected him to say. The Northern Kingdom does not participate in continental politics. The port authorities refused the Iolian delegation's request to detain the crew of the "Elena". However, they are also unwilling to see the "Elena" in their port. The authorities are giving the caravel twenty-four hours to repair and resupply, after which they expect to see her leave the harbour. Skipper Dorlt listened to the northerner's tirade with a very serious expression, then laughed good-naturedly and assured him that there would be no problems. The only thing is that he would like to leave the next morning instead of the next evening, so he asked for one more night on top of those 24 hours. The official hesitated for a moment, but finally nodded — it was within his authority to grant such a postponement. The two parties parted peacefully, bowing and exchanging wishes for every success. As soon as the strangers were off the deck of the "Elena", the skipper gave Valria a sly look:

— Well, Captain? Are you ready to announce your plan?

— Yes, — the pointy-eared girl smiled dazzlingly at him. — The first stage is for everyone to go to bed and get a good night's rest. You'll hear the rest in the morning, when your heads are fresher.

As Armando walked down the corridor past the women's quarters, he stopped and sniffed. He could smell the disgusting odour of freshly brewed coffee coming from the loose shutter. He wondered how long the golden-haired elf had been storing those last beans. There was no doubt that the captain herself would not sleep tonight...

The meeting began after lunch, in the skipper's office. Valria waited until everyone was seated, stood at the desk, put her hands behind her back. She said calmly, without a smile: