The knight, the dragon and the necromancer. Daert dilogy-1

It is always easier for a mage to manipulate his own body than someone else's. A mage could work on his own injuries 24 hours a day, monitoring the slightest changes in his well-being. The Black Guard healers visited the necromancer's apprentice every day, bringing healing amulets and sharing potions. The reputation the girl had earned was beginning to bear fruit — all these people seemed genuinely concerned about her health. On the fifth day after her return, Rosa woke up late in the morning, examined her hip and decided that she could walk through the village with Jeanne at her side. The wound had healed well enough and should not have opened. But the weakness still hadn't left the girl, so she decided to spend an hour or two in bed reading a book. She'd missed breakfast anyway, and she could get a couple of galettes from the Intendant anytime.

The girl was distracted from her reading by voices outside the door. Someone was arguing outside. Rosa frowned, lowered the book, trying to make out the words. They were arguing fiercely, but not loudly, as if afraid of waking someone. One voice was Jeanne's, and the other... it was familiar, too.

— Knock, knock! — There was a knock at the window. — Knock, knock!

The knocking was insistent, repetitive, mechanical. The sorceress put the book aside, sat on the bed, and shivered. The hearth, which had been heated during the night, had already gone cold, and the room was chilly. Summer was over, it was the second week of autumn. With a sigh, she slipped her feet into her house shoes, stood up, pulled on her nightgown, limped to the window and opened it. On the narrow window sill sat a shabby dead raven. At the sight of the girl, he spread his wings and made a sort of bow. The necromancer's apprentice smiled involuntarily. She turned to the door and shouted:

— Jeanne! Let Donna Vittoria in!

The voices outside the door fell silent. The sash opened, and Rosa's mentor stepped through the door, smiling brightly. Jeanne came in with a curve of her lips.

— It's good to see you well, my dear, — the necromancer said, placing a large, soft bundle on the table by the hearth. — I hope you don't resent me for waiting so long.

— To be honest... — Rosa stretched out, closing the window and returning to the bed, — ...I'm not really sure what's going on.

— It's nothing special, dear. — The red-haired donna sank into a chair, folded her hands gracefully in her lap. Jeanne stood silently beside her. She looked as if the guard was ready to wring her guest's neck at Rosa's word. — Have you forgotten our roles? People must see that we act together, but there is no warmth of heart between us. Otherwise, how can those who don't like me reach out to you? Let there be a chill in our relationship from time to time. Only in public, of course.

— I see. — The young sorceress sat down on the edge of the bed, covered her thighs with a warm blanket. — But it was... I mean, can you warn me about that from now on?

— Not until you've been trained by a couple of seasoned actors. — The necromancer squinted. — Until then, I'll have to squeeze real emotion out of you, don't worry. And you don't have time to learn hypocrisy, I'm afraid. In the night, Marius brought the Lady Lytel and the Erdos ambassadors. I've already spoken to them, briefly. I've learnt a lot of interesting things. At least one piece of good news for sure.

— Which one? — Rosa inquired when the mentor didn't continue on her own.

— Don Armando's group was in the Erdo Islands, — Vittoria said slowly. She seemed to be struggling with two opposing desires, to share the news and to keep it to herself. — They destroyed the portal, broke away from the pursuit, helped the Chancellor of the Republic foil the outsiders' plans for Erdo, and travelled on by sea. Probably to the Empire. Armando had no companions with him. Only imperial agents.

— Donna Minerva... — Rosa tapped her finger on her knee. — It all adds up. Minerva had been captured when the portal collapsed, covering the retreat of her comrades. Her dragon was killed. Don Gotech, probably as well. Armando and the Imperials managed to slip away.

— It seems to be true, — the red-haired donna nodded. — Armando didn't share details with the Republicans. But he tipped them off to a secret alien base on their own islands, and they saw... things. Found out about the atomic bombs. Still can't recover. I think we've got Erdo's backing. We've arranged a meeting at headquarters for noon. The guests will rest, take Yuriev's report and come to discuss plans. You may attend, if your health permits.

— All is good, — the girl replied without thinking. Of course she would miss this because of some weakness!

— I didn't doubt it in the slightest. — The Necromancer stood up suddenly. — But I've heard rumours that an enemy arrow has ruined the last of your good trousers. I have brought you a gift to atone for my transgression. I hope you'll appreciate it.

She loosened the rope holding the bundle together. She took a step back:

— Your new suit, Rosa. Actually, I ordered it a long time ago. There's no one in the Gorge to make decent clothes, so I sent a letter to Liarath. A leader's appearance is as important as his words and deeds. A master elf with 500 years of experience has worked on your new look. Please try it on. I can't wait to see the results myself.

It didn't take long to change. Simply because the costume was very similar to Rosa's usual outfit. Trousers, jacket, blouse, gloves, boots, beret. Except everything was snow-white, tastefully decorated with a small amount of gold sewing. Fine patterns of gold thread were woven on the chest and collar of the jacket, on the cuffs of the gloves, on the flaps of the boots, stretched along the seams of the trousers. There were other differences. The trousers were made of thin elasticated fabric and were tight around the legs, as if they were stockings. The boots rose above mid-thigh, though they were surprisingly light. The gloves had a soft lining, and the jacket had secret pockets on the inside. The costume was completed by a white beret with a green feather and a milk-coloured leather belt with a gilt buckle.

— I wish there was a mirror, — Donna Vittoria commented as her student finished dressing and stood near the window where it was brighter. — But believe me, everything fits properly.

— It suits you very well, — Jeanne say. It was the first time she had spoken, and it was obvious that she did not like to agree with Vittoria on anything.

— But why does it look so much like my old outfit? — Rosa asked, stretching her arms out in front of her and spreading her fingers. The pattern on the long cuffs of the gloves shimmered faintly in the sunlight.

— That's just the way it is, my dear. — The necromancer waved her hands. — Ever since your arrival at the rebel camp, you've always worn the same hunting costume. You've worn your dress a couple of times, only. Everyone's used to seeing you in trousers. The image has been established, let's not destroy it. On the contrary, let's reinforce it. It's a good thing it's not a dress. You can wear the same look to a marshal's dinner and to the front lines of battle.

— White is not the best colour for everyday wear, — Jeanne said, not taking her eyes off her friend. The eternal wrinkle on her forehead, miraculously, smoothed out.

— Of course, — the necromancer agreed. She pulled two small cubes of gold wire from her belt pouch. — These are dirt and dust amulets. One protects you, the other cleans you if you get dirty. Charge them every three days and you'll always look spotless.

— How much are they worth? — The young sorceress frowned, accepting the cubes.

— Costs a fortune, — the necromancer grinned wider than before. — I got it for free. So just take it. And let's go. It's noon soon, and this isn't a royal palace where being late is considered a sign of good manners.

The three of them crossed the square, heading for the headman's house, where the Black Guard had their headquarters. Rosa kept glancing down, for fear of getting her white boots dirty, and did not notice the slender figure that appeared in their path. Lady Captain Lytel separated from a group of shooters practising with muskets and waved her hand in greeting. She stepped towards Rosa, seemingly too quickly, as Jeanne reflexively stepped between them without even thinking. She bowed her head in a short bow, and said in her usual serious tone:

— I'm glad you're walking now, master.

— Thank you for your concern, — she smiled back. She was actually holding on tightly to Jeanne's elbow, and her thigh stung with every step, but it was nothing after such an injury. Not needing a crutch was a good thing. — I'm glad you got there without any problems.

— I wish all human ambassadors would be so unpretentious. — Lytel shook her head. — I've seen some of them turn their noses up at fish pate at the Prince's reception. But my Erdosians ate pigeon without salt and did not complain. Are you going to the meeting? I'll come with you.

The women entered the door of the headquarters as a quartet. Marshal de Cotoci, Captain Utlt, and all three Republican emissaries were waiting for them. They exchanged greetings, and then seated themselves round the table with the map. Irutava Junior took the floor.

— My first impressions of the Black Guard were given to me by my military adviser, sir Yuriev. He praised your troops for their fighting ability under the circumstances. Donna Vittoria explained to me your goals and convinced me of the firmness of your intentions. — The young man nodded to the necromancer. — I will now state the position of the Republic and the Chancellor.

He folded his hands on the table in front of him and continued after a second pause:

— The Council of the Republic and Chancellor Ryuu Irutava are concerned about aliens from another world interfering in Coalition affairs. The Council finds Auguste de Veronny's plans to wage war with the Empire unacceptable, given the still tangible consequences of past such conflict. — The Emissary spoke dryly and formally, pausing after each phrase. — The Council is extremely offended by the interference of Auguste of Iolia's supporters in the affairs of Erdo, including the blockade by the Iolian fleet of the capital of the Republic, where the guests of the Irutava clan, led by Don Armando de Gorazzo, were staying at the time. The Council believes that Auguste's usurpation of royal power and his continued actions threaten the unity of the Coalition and its ability to contain the Empire. The Council has given me the authority to enter into alliances and co-operation agreements with any forces opposing Auguste de Veronny and the aliens from the other world, whether they act together or separately.

Donna Vittoria discreetly reached under the table and poked a sharp fingernail into Rosa's thigh. The young sorceress managed not to flinch. Realising what her mentor expected from her, the girl asked:

— What exactly can we count on, lord Irutava?

— Now for help with money. — The emissary answered readily, as if he had been expecting it from her. — If there are supply lines, help with equipment and mercenaries. The Republic's navy will also provide any shipping that the Black Guard requests.

— We have no access to the sea, — Rosa said. — Not even to the borders of Erdo on the mainland yet.

— That is a matter for the future, — Donna Vittoria smiled. — Perhaps close to it. Anything else, lord Irutava?

The ambassador nodded to her again:

— Yes. If the Black Guard becomes strong enough to directly challenge Auguste's power, the Republic of Erdo will openly side with it.

The elves glanced across the table. Utlt moved his lips, silently uttering a short word, and Lytel responded by pressing her ears to her temples — though her face remained impenetrable.

— There's a condition, right? — The red-haired donna tilted her head to her shoulder. Her glasses glinted, catching a ray of sunlight — the windows in the meeting room were covered with dim glass.

— Simple and fair. — The young diplomat slightly spread his palms resting on the table. — The Republic of Iolia is deeply implicated in the machinations of the aliens and Auguste. The authorities of Iolia have insulted Erdo by laying siege to our capital and demanding the extradition of the Chancellor's guests. Erdo will fight against the usurper in Daert, provided his Iolian allies do not get away with it either.

Well, it sounded logical, and in its own way, it was expected. The two trading republics of the Coalition had always been rivals, and the only thing that had forced them to unite was fear, first of the kingdom, then of the Empire to the east. The aliens had upset the balance, and Erdo, always inferior to Iolia in wealth and fleet size, was not averse to making a play for it.

— What must the Guard achieve for the Republic to enter the war? — the necromancer asked.

— Support inside and outside the kingdom, military successes. — Irutava Junior brought his palms together again. — I will stay with you for the moment. As soon as I see that the usurper's throne is wobbling, I will send word to the Chancellor. If the Guards have control of the Erdo borders by then, the matter will be even easier.

— So, for you to help us, we have to prove that we can beat the enemy without you, — Vittoria said. She adjusted her glasses on her nose. — Well, what's the use of wasting time? Let's start now. Sir Marshal?

The Black Guard commander stood up, his palms resting heavily on the tabletop. He said, looking across the table at the Erdosians:

— Tomorrow morning, the Guard will fight the royal forces on the plains and lift the siege of Three Thorns Gorge. I ask honourable emissaries to be guests in my headquarters and observe the battle with their own eyes....

Chapter 23

Lytel could be recognised even from a great distance, through the telescope — tall, slender, in a tight-fitting suit, with her head uncovered, in a strange pose. Instead of a musket, the lady captain held a violin at her shoulder, with a bow applied. Behind the back of the elven woman stretched a line of musketeers, stood the drummers and the standard bearer. The Black Guard's banner had changed during Rosa's absence — the black cloth was now adorned with a golden semicircle with diverging rays. "We hold mourning for the rightful queen, but we also carry hope," — Donna Vittoria explained to her student. — "For retribution, for justice, for peace and a better future. The rising sun is a simple and understandable symbol that even a peasant can understand".

The troops moved out in the dark, without lights or music. It was important to leave the neck of the gorge and deploy before the king's army was rattled. The elven jaegers cut out the enemy sentries at the gorge itself, and the alarm in the camp of Auguste's forces did not rise until dawn, when the Guards were spotted by watchmans on the fortifications. By that time the core of the army had already formed up. Headquarters watched from the top of a hill in the foothills. The senior officers, their retinue, the necromancer and her apprentice, and the guests from the Republic were gathered on a platform fenced with baskets of earth.