Novel 1. Mercenary Company Bright Heads. Story 3. Where all paths converge

Sir Roland stretched across the threshold, showing no signs of life. The redheaded Lady Kaya was hugging her sister tightly. The others were still standing inside the salt circle, useless because one edge of it had already been washed away by the drinks spilled from the tables. Carlon swallowed, closing his eyes to confirm his hunch. Yes, the outer circle of protection was gone, too. Cutting through the threshold, the old knight let the demons out of the room, and they went in search of easier prey.

Lady Jana silently approached the duchess, again saluting with her sword. She smiled tiredly at Carlon, nodded to him. And then she scattered silver dust, instantly melted into the air...

* * *

Maitre cautiously looked out the door. The corridor was empty, with only the corpses of the earl's servants lying in a lurch. On the faces of the seemingly unharmed dead there was a grimace of horror — demons don't inflict physical wounds, they drink the very life of a man. The invisible, insensible "glue" that binds the soul to the body.

There was a muffled cry coming from somewhere behind the wall. It seemed that the creatures that had broken free had taken on the other inhabitants of the castle. Carlon shuddered, kneeling hastily beside Sir Roland's body. The old knight no longer needed help, but the mage still searched his neck for a pulse. When he couldn't find it, he leaned over the threshold. He chuckled when he saw the copper band with the magical insignia carved into the metal. So that's how it was. The protective circle was closed not by the doors of the Hall, but by the threshold. To close the magical barrier with the blown shutters would be easy and convenient, but not reliable. Someone had been very thorough in their preparations for the assassination attempt. Unfortunately for them, Sir Roland was clever — not being a mage, he knew what to do, and with his final blow he sliced through the brass band, breaking the barrier. But Carlon was a fool. He could, after all, have seen the line on the threshold when he entered the hall...

Lady Kaya walked past the wizard. She stopped in the middle of the corridor and glanced to the right and to the left, keeping her sword and her amulet at the ready. The mage turned around. A frowning Maria was examining the wound of the other twin. The duchess, accompanied by Lady Emilia and the mercenaries, was pacing toward him. She was clearly about to speak to Carlon, but at that moment something in the castle courtyard crackled and rattled deafeningly. The mage darted toward one of the windows that cut into the wall of the corridor.

— What is it? — Valria asked, standing beside him.

— The gateway is closed, the bars drawn down. — Mater pressed his lips together tightly. — They are raising the bridge.

— And the sentries? — Dallan inquired. She stood on the other side of the mage. It was impossible for the three of them to see through one narrow window, so the mage stepped aside to make room for the girls.

— The doors are locked, so are the entrances to the gatehouses, — the eagle-eyed elf answered for the mage. — Like a siege.

— So we got out of the trap into the trap,— Emilia wrapped the amulet chain around her palm and clenched fist. While Lady Kaya kept a watchful eye on one end of the corridor, the tiny girl watched the other. But no one was in any hurry to finish what they had begun. Creepy shouts came from all directions, which was unnerving, but suggested that the castle's servants were no longer concerned with guests. — Perhaps all of Sir Cyril's men were involved in the conspiracy. To get out of the castle we would have to break through the inner rooms, the courtyard, break into the towers, seize the lifting mechanism, open the gates, raise the bars, lower the bridge... I don't think we can do that. Even if the Earl has only a few servants capable of fighting, all they have to do is lock themselves in the towers. Master, can you use magic to break down the door?

— One or two, if they are not lined with iron. — The mage shook his head. — We have bigger problems now. The castle is surrounded by a moat of flowing water, and its walls are protected by fortress amulets. It's all designed to keep demons and ghosts from entering. But now...

— It won't let them out of here. — Valria whistled softly. — The demons are trapped in the castle, and so are we... Great. A jar full of flies and spiders.

— We'll get the mistress out of here. — The little brown-eyed lady said it as if she was stating a fact. — If we can't open the gate, we'll find a rope and let Christina down from the wall. The escort should be moving, they'll meet her on the other side and help her across... We need to find an unlocked tower or other way to the crest of the wall. The sooner the better.

— On the other hand, I would suggest we take our time, — Valria protested, turning to the Duchess. Carlon saw the violet lights in her eyes, and snorted:

— Thinking up something idiotic, are you?

— On the contrary, I want to be careful, — the girl pretended to take offense. — Carlon, you said demons are afraid of the sun's rays, right?

— Yes. It burns their etheric bodies.

— The donjon has an open area upstairs. — Without taking her eyes off Christine, the elfess pulled up her parade suede gloves, adorned with black embroidery. — The tower is tall; the sun will light up its peak before anything else. And there must be only one entrance to the platform. The assassins must be waiting for us downstairs and in the courtyard. And the demons are where more people are right now. Also downstairs. No one thinks we're going up.

For a few seconds everyone was silent, digesting what they'd heard. Lady Maria and Adela emerged from the trashed dining hall. Maria had stripped her wounded sister of her shoulder pads, removed the lodged arrow, bandaged her pierced shoulder, and now the redheaded girl acted as if nothing had happened. Except for putting the sword in its scabbard and taking the chain of amulet in her healthy hand.

— We'll go up to the upper ground, fortify ourselves there, and wait until morning, — Lady Emilia finally understood the elf's thoughts. — Maybe we can make some sort of connection with the escort behind the wall. And in the daylight we'll go down to the courtyard and deal only with live enemies. Yes, I agree with that plan.

— We'll have to fortify ourselves against demons, too. — Carlon rubbed the bridge of his nose with force. It looked disrespectful in front of the Duchess of Elvart, but the master decided that the extraordinary circumstances excused him. — Your Highness, may I know what we all saw in the hall? The words you spoke there were not a spell, they were just words. But after them the ghost of Lady Jana appeared, in a very clear manifestation. She looked perfectly alive. And she acted... consciously. There are no ghosts in their senses, it is against their very nature. What was that, Your Highness?

— You saw the little secret of all the ruling houses of old Daert, Master. — The Duchess met the mage's gaze, and Carlon barely averted his eyes. — The traditions of the personal guard are very ancient, and the oath of the guard was written in the days when oaths had real power. In fact, the oath is a magical ritual. The guard mixes his blood with that of his suzerain and swears to serve him until his death. Until the death of his lord, not his own. The death of a Guardian does not release him from his oath.

— So... the souls of dead guardsmen cannot enter the Creator's gardens as long as their lord lives? — Carlon was dumbfounded. And apparently so was Valria — she opened her mouth to say something, but at the last moment she changed her mind.

— Of course they can. — Christina the Second suddenly smiled. — No magic can prevent the Creator from summoning a soul to his throne. The Guardian's oath is simply a... a request for reprieve. Usually this request is granted — if the guardian was a worthy man. Jana herself wants to be with me after she dies. And she has been allowed to do so. Any of her sisters would want the same. Doesn't it?

— Yes, — Lady Emilia replied. She didn't even turn around, continuing to watch her end of the corridor.

— Yes, — the other Guard Girls echoed her.

— Is she here now? — asked the master. — Jana, I mean.

— She'll be here if we need her.

— And she can protect us from the demons?

— No better than you could see. — Stopping smiling, the duchess sighed. — The oath doesn't grant any special powers in the afterlife. It only allows you to keep your identity and memory intact.

— Then we'll have to manage on our own. — Master put his hand on Valria's shoulder. — Captain, do you smell food?

— The smell from the refectory is overpowering. — The elven girl grinned, wiggling her pointy ears. — But if we step back a bit, I'll lead you to the kitchen, wherever it's hiding.

— Your Highness, Captain Valria and I will search for salt to create a barrier on the roof of the donjon, — Carlon told the Duchess. — You and the guardsmen move to the wing passageway in the tower. I'm sure it's locked, but wait for us there anyway. If anything forces you to leave, leave some sign.

— Very well, Master, — Christina nodded.

— And here's the other thing. I could use one of those amulets. I have demon countermeasures, but they're... one-time use, so to speak.

— Take mine. — The Lady Maria took a step toward Carlon and placed a silver chain in his palm. She squeezed his fingers lightly with hers before letting go of his hand. Girl smiled only with her eyes. The mage felt the urge to call the girl with him, but he held back. Instead he asked:

— And you yourself...?

— My sisters will not let me offend, — Maria answered seriously, without a smile.

The mage picked up Sir Roland's axe and weighed it in his hand. It was a bit heavy, and the blade had chipped while the knight was chopping at doors, but it was better than a sword. Carlon wasn't much of a swordsman, but he'd always wielded an axe in combat. Valria, too, examined the crossbows scattered across the floor, kicked one with her boot and grimaced. The crossbows were all wall-mounted or siege weapons — not something you could carry for long, especially if you were a delicate, graceful Elf. Fixing the sword's armband, the girl said to her sergeant:

— Dallan, keep an eye on them.

She waved a hand at Carlon to indicate she was ready to go.

The two of them jogged down the corridor, not changing to running. The old castle was not a hospitable place, and now it had become a trap, dangerous even for its owner. The mage glanced behind him with eyes closed, and through his drooping eyelids, he saw the greenish glimmer behind the keep's walls grow brighter. The defenses of the Earl's private quarters had been put on alert, but it didn't look particularly impressive. Carlon couldn't even vouch for the fact that the inner fail-safes were sufficiently strong to withstand the dawn.

— I hope that formal execution freed Dallan from her foolish oath, — Valria, striding first, said unexpectedly aloud. — I shudder to think of her going back to serving that bony moose after her death.

— Only if Dallan wants her to,— the Master reminded her, ignoring her majesty's insult. It wasn't the best moment to speak, but he could see that his golden-haired companion was trembling with anger — apparently she'd been trying very hard to contain herself for the past few minutes.

— And she will, — the elf-woman snarled, twirling her sword. They'd reached the end of the gallery and turned left into the annexe wing. There were no more windows, all the light coming from the old-fashioned torches crackling in the wall brackets. — For years I've taught her to value herself, to think of herself, but she's... too much of a fairy knight.

Mater gave an indefinite chuckle. Valria, on the other hand, stopped abruptly, threw her head back, pulled her nose. She said:

— Blood, grease, oil... Not fresh... Right below us. Looking for stairs.

A side corridor led them to the stairs, where the bodies of two servants lay. No wounds on the dead men — meaning the demons had done their work. Carlon lowered the chain from his palm so that the silver weight dangled from his wrist. Only when he touched the amulet with his bare palm could he feel the movement of magical energy in it — so little was there. But Maria was right; something stronger would not have survived the steel of the guardsmen's armor.

— Wait. — When they made it up the two flights of stairs and onto the square landing on the second floor, Valria raised her hand in warning. She wiggled her long ears like a horse. — I hear footsteps...

— Mrrr-rya! — A black cat with a long woolly tail leaped out of the dark stone archway that led to the gallery. He slipped under the elfin's feet and galloped up the stairs. After the cat, a man appeared in the archway. A stout man in the simple clothes of a castle servant clumsily crossed the threshold, staggered. With difficulty maintaining his balance, he stared at Carlon and Valria with an empty, meaningless stare. He opened his mouth and let out something between a croak and a hiss. Valria shifted to cover the mage, raised her sword — but the maestro grabbed her by the shoulder:

— Possessed! His...

The man snapped from his seat so suddenly that Carlon, who had been expecting such a thing, barely had time to push the girl out of his way and recoil himself. Like a cannonball, the possessed man whizzed between the mage and the elf, striking the stone railing of the stairs, leaping off them and leaping toward Valria, his clumsiness vanishing without a trace. The Captain, however, was not slow either. With a swift stroke, she severed three fingers from the possessed man's outstretched hand, letting her foe pass her by.

— He feels no pain! — The master cautioned, gripping the shaft of the axe with both palms of his hands. Valria heard him. When the possessed man turned and lunged at the elfess again, she met him with a direct thrust. The sword blade halfway entered the man between the ribs, piercing his heart. The possessed man jerked forward, sliding onto the elfess's sword, continuing to pull his arms toward the girl. The man's fingers touched the captain's cheek... when Carlon, who came up behind him, sliced him with his axe heartily. The first blow failed to sever the man's neck, so the wizard yanked the point from his foe's flesh and struck again. The decapitated body tumbled sideways, tearing the hilt of the sword from Valria's hands. Master looked back at the opening, but no new guests awaited. The elven woman, on the other hand, pulled a blue and white handkerchief from her vest pocket and wiped a few drops of blood from her cheek. With a little gasp she inquired: