Novel 2. Royal Justice

— Waiting.

A minute later, a sultan of crimson fire, streaked with black smoke, rose above the stone crenellations to the accompaniment of a terrible rumble. It was the detonation of the watch-bomb left by Donna Minerva on the north wall during her next run. At the same instant, master Carlon swiped his index finger across his amulet and spoke a three-syllable word. A second explosion rang out, a much smaller fireball smashing the iron grate into the tunnel beneath the wall. The explosions merged into one — so precise was the magician's timing.

— Let's go. — The elven woman jumped into the stream, the first to enter under the moss-covered vaults of the tunnel. The others followed her. The passage was sloping — the stone chute in the courtyard was probably deeper than the natural bed. After taking a few steps, the captain's ears perked up warily. She spoke without turning round:

— Something's coming, a mechanical hum.

When they emerged from beneath the wall inside the castle, de Gorazzo himself heard a bassy humming sound, and when he looked up, he saw its source. From the side of the valley, a marvellous mechanism was rushing through the air towards the castle, a long tail stretching backwards from a round glass bubble, with stubby wings sticking out to the sides. At the bottom of the bubble were attached runners, like those on a winter sleigh, and at the top was a gleaming disk, like what happens when you spin a wheel with spokes very quickly. The glass bubble looked like it could hold two or three people.

— An alien machine. — Gotech said the phrase as if spitting it out. The giant had to get on all fours to remain unnoticed in the creek gutter, while the others had to squat down.

The mechanism from the other world rushed towards Charcoal, who was coming out of another dive. Two fiery arrows burst out from under the short wings of the machine, reaching for the lizard, dragging tails of white smoke behind them. The dragon spotted the threat just in time, lying down on its wing, letting the arrows pass him by. Then the mechanical 'flyer' stopped in mid-air just above the fortress, spun in place, holding the lizard in front of its nose. Bright scarlet glowing threads stretched from the bases of its wings to Charcoal, brushing against the dragon's side. The beast roared furiously, jerking away from the flaming whips.

— Let's go quickly, while they're busy... — Valria, who had already climbed out of the chute, began.

The mechanism spat burning arrows again. The Charcoal suddenly rushed towards them, dived down, intending to pass under the shots to attack the belly of the machine. But the arrows, against all the laws of ballistics, repeated the lizard's movement. At the last moment, the dragon only had time to turn round its axis, putting its left side instead of its back with the rider under the blow. The aliens' shells burst as they touched the lizard's carcass, piercing the steel-like scales. Armando gasped, clamping his mouth with his palm. The twin blasts tore a chunk of flesh from Charcoal's flank, almost tearing off his left wing. But the dragon was still hurtling towards its target. Flipping onto its back, it swooped down on the flyer from below. Its powerful hind paws crushed the glass bubble with everything inside, its front paws gripped the tail. The two enemies spun in a dead grip, only to collapse into the courtyard of the fortress a few heartbeats later. Another explosion rang out, and wide streams of flame erupted across the eastern end of the courtyard as some sort of flammable liquid spilled from the fallen alien vehicle. A wounded dragon roared desperately. From the middle of the courtyard Armando could see it trying to get up — and failing, crushed by the hull of the flyer.

— Minerva! — Gotech roared as loudly as Charcoal. Forgetting all plans, the desert giant sprang from the creek and rushed at full speed to where the dragon was dying, pulling axe from his belt loop as he ran. Armando hesitated for a long second — the Don wanted to rush after his friend, but he realised that he could not abandon the Imperials either. As a result, the choice had been made for him.

A dozen guards literally swooped down on the group that had left the ditch. The only thing that saved the group was that the soldiers themselves had not expected to meet the enemy in the middle of their own fortress, and they were armed with long spears — not the best weapon when facing the enemy head-on. The men must have armed themselves in the donjon armoury specifically to face the dragon. The elf was the quickest to react, firing a shot at one of the guards before the two squads clashed. Throwing her crossbow on her shoulder, the captain tray to pulled her sword from its sheath, but the second soldier slammed his shoulder into the girl, toppling her onto her back and preventing her from drawing her blade. A second later, he was on the ground when Armando hit him the same way. The former bailiff finished the stunned foe with his sword and held out his hand to Valria. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another soldier backing away, shielding himself with the shaft of his spear from master Carlon. The overweight Imperial mage was not very skilful, but very strong — he swung his infantry cleaver so violently that his opponent's spear was flying splinters. The Lady Maria covered the mage's back. Over the weeks of travelling together, Armando had grown accustomed to the albino-looking girl being a skilled healer, a learned scribe, and a pleasant conversationalist. Don completely forgot that these are only her hobbies, and the main speciality of the lady — the bodyguard of the monarch. De Gorazzo was just helping Valria up, and three corpses were already lying at Maria's feet. The guardswoman moved with astonishing speed, without making a single unnecessary movement. Each new swing of her blade flowed from the previous one, as if the fight was staged, and the girl knew in advance how her enemies would act. The soldiers surrounding the guardswoman dropped their spears and took up falchions, Iolian soldier's cleavers, longer and heavier than the Daert ones. Two of the soldiers were killed before they could draw their weapons, a third lost a hand in a defensive stance, a fourth was able to parry two chopping blows but missed a stabbing lunge. Armando faced the next fighter, ducked under his spear, took a swipe at his neck, struck the spearman in the teeth with the cross of his sword. Using a couple of techniques learnt not from a fencing master, but from street bandits, he knocked the enemy off his feet, crushed his jaw with a heavy "apple" on the hilt of his weapon. He jumped up just in time to see one of the last guards stabbing the distracted Lady Maria in the back with a spear. The point jabbed into the cuirass, slid across the smooth steel, and... pierced the guard's right arm above the elbow. The girl cried out, dropping her sword, and intercepted the shaft with her healthy hand to prevent the spear from going deeper. Corporal Green, covered in the blood of enemies, rolled under the feet of the spearman, dropped him on his back, and with a fierce hiss tore the enemy's throat open with his teeth.

— Maria? — The mage who had finished off his "opponent" turned round startled at the shriek.

— I'm... fine. — The guardswoman grimaced in pain and pulled the spearhead from her own flesh. Bent over to pick up the sword with her left hand. — Ten minutes to bandage it up.

The others were fine, save for a slightly stunned Valria. The captain looked around anxiously, wheezing:

— This way... coming. We've got them. Let's go!

The garrison had locked the gates to the cellar for the night, but that was not a problem. Armando was the first to run up to them, and immediately noticed something like a reader's stand. Only instead of a book, the only button on the lectern was huge and red. Don froze, not knowing whether to press it or not. When the elfess arrived, she slammed her fist down on the button. The heavy, iron panelled doors slid upwards, revealing a well-lit yawn of a subterranean corridor. There was a rumbling, crackling and clanking sound.

— Well, now, if anyone in the garrison didn't realise there were spies in the fortress, let them know, — the captain grinned wryly, holding her crossbow. — We signalled to everyone, "Hey, come here!".

Master Carlon, taking advantage of the delay, opened the leather purse on Lady Maria's belt, took out a strip of clean cloth, and with two skilful movements, pulled the girl's wound. She nodded gratefully.

— Follow me! Don't forget the button. — Valria didn't wait for the flaps to open fully. As soon as there was a gap big enough to squeeze through sideways, the elf slid into it. The others had to wait a few more moments. Before following his comrades, Master Carlon smashed the stand with the button with his cleaver. As soon as he ran under the grey stone vaults, Valria pressed the exact same button inside the corridor, and the gates that had never opened fully began to lower. The group didn't see the gates close as the Captain's squad hurried down the corridor. The corridor they ran down was high and wide enough for a cart to pass through. There were no steps, just a flat, sloping floor.

A subterranean passage led the party into a large circular room filled with stacks of olive board crates. Only the centre of the room was empty, where, on a stone pedestal, stood the black arch of the portal. Its diameter, by the way, was exactly the same as the corridor. The basement was guarded by only two soldiers and an elderly man in a robe. Maybe he was a mage — it was impossible to find out, as Valria shot him first. One of the guards was also shot in the eye, and the other had time to duck under the protection of the crates, but Corporal Green ran through the stacks on all fours and fell on the soldier's head. The guard's shriek instantly changed to a choking gurgle.

— There's a door to the inner rooms! — Elf lowered crossbow and pointed with her finger. — Corporal, Don Armando, lock the latch and barricade it. Maria, place the bombs on the archway. I'll help you. Carlon.

— I'll prepare a surprise first. — The black-bearded mage pulled a simple device he had made with his own hands at the last sleepover. It consisted of a copper tube in which the mage had placed the tip of Valria's last enchanted arrow, a small amulet, and a substance he called: "also the explosive of strangers, only different — the one in clock-bombs does not explode from fire." While de Gorazzo and Green were pushing heavy boxes against the inner door, the magician dragged one of the crates into the corridor, stood on it, and used a piece of resin to attach the tube to the ceiling. When he returned, he took from his bag a stone cutter, a hammer, a jar of some kind of liquid and knelt down in front of the support of the black arch. He muttered:

— Now keep it down.

The mage was not allowed to work in peace — muffled blows came from the corridor. Someone was hitting the gate. Almost synchronously, they banged on the inner door as well. The indiscriminate blows were soon replaced by heavier, more measured ones.

— Done, — Lady Maria reported, stepping back. She placed two of the explosives at the base of the portal and the third at the top of the arch. A light metal ladder, found among other belongings, helped her with the latter. — I started the clock.

— I have a few more minutes... — The mage didn't even look up. Gently, with a chisel, he was adjusting the intricate symbols covering the black arch. Armando got a better look at it. The portal was made of blocks of matte black stone covered with magical symbols. The space inside the archway looked empty at first glance, but on closer inspection de Gorazzo noticed a thin transparent membrane stretched between the supports. The portal was obviously not working now, but he did not want to go through it.

— Just a little more... vector inversion... — the imperial mage muttered.

The steady thumps coming from the corridor were replaced by the prolonged screech of hinges.

— They... somehow open the sashes! — exclaimed the former royal bailiff.

— Telekinesis of the highest order. — Master Carlon put down his tools carefully, rubbing his temples. — Ah, Gehenna and demons!

He jumped up and dashed towards the main doorway. Armando followed him, along with Valria. The creaking stopped, only to be replaced by the stomping of many feet. De Gorazzo saw a tight formation of soldiers advancing on him from the corridor. The men of the garrison were not exactly in step, but they kept their formation, shoulder to shoulder, filling the entire passage — and it was impossible to see how many more rows were stretching beyond the first. Ahead of the guards, a tall, elderly man in a dark blue robe embroidered with gold walked without apparent haste. He held his palms up to chest level, as if he were carrying the magic shield that Armando knew, touching its thin plate with the pads of his fingers. He, too, saw the men at the other end of the passage. He slowed his step and bellowed in the powerful voice of a true warlord:

— I order you to lay down your arms! Resistance is futile. The dungeon is sealed off. I see a magician among you, but judging by his tricks, he's no higher than the third degree. I am Master Falcone, archmage of the first degree. Surrender and your lives will be spared.

— Don't you want a bite of my carrot, you ragamuffin?! — shouted back the imperial mage. — Master Falcone is the head of all your gang's magical research. Do you expect me to believe that he would personally go ahead of the soldiers?

— You'll see for yourself, — the man in the robe hissed. He held the shield with one hand and pulled back the other. Green sparks danced over the Master's palm. Mater Carlon yawned and snapped his fingers. And darted away, dragging Valria with him. Armando himself guessed to jump back under the protection of the wall. But he was in time to see the copper tube the master had fastened to the ceiling of the corridor explode. Right over the heads of the enemy soldiers. It seemed that the Falcone had time to fall to his knee and shield himself from the explosion... But when Armando got up from the floor and looked into the passage again, there was a solid wall of earth mixed with stone debris. The vault of the corridor had collapsed, burying both Master Falcone and the guards who had followed him.

— I told you a university professor was a bad gunner, — Master Carlon said instead of an epitaph. — There was little magic in the arrow, and none in the explosives. That's why Master arch-asshole didn't notice anything. The vault had been hastily made here, so it could not resist. The foundations of the donjon are another matter...

The walls of the room shuddered oddly, as if from another explosion. Dust fell from the ceiling.