Novel 1. Mercenary Company "Bright Heads". Story 2. Someone who doesn't belong here

Dallan paused, her hand slipping from the Duchess's.

— Doctor! — Valria growled.

— It's all right — the doctor replied, turning to them for the first time. — She is sleeping. The lungs are not affected, I prevented internal bleeding and removed the bullets.

He threw three bloody pieces of metal into the dust. The elf, instantly changing her face, leaned forward and kissed the healer on the cheek. Putting her hat with a feather under Carlon's head, she got up. She found the little lady Emilia among the guards. Approaching her, she asked:

— The guardsman has no family, except for the overlord and the guards, right?

— That's right, — nodded the frail protector of the Duchess. — We are sisters.

Valria, under the astonished looks of those around her, tore off the gilded buttons from her green waistcoat, put them into the palm of Lady Emilia:

— I owed your sister two silver coins. I don't have any money right now, but...

The guardswoman lowered her eyelids for a moment and nodded. She and the elf understood each other. And Carlon realized that he was a fool. Even at the first meeting with Lady Yana, it seemed to him that he had already seen the armor of a guardsman somewhere. And he really saw that the Dallan cuirass was no different from them, except for the blue pattern. Yes, and this nickname is "Ninth of Eight" ... But it turns out that Valria knew?

The magician did not have time to ask this question to the elf — the last sparks of the recent outburst of anger finally burned out in him, and the master lost consciousness.

* * *

— Yana...always seemed awfully strict, — Dallan said in a low voice. The sergeant lay on the bed in her and Valria's cabin, wrapped in warm blankets up to her chin. Carlon and the elf sat side by side on chairs pulled up to the bed, holding glasses of warmed wine. Outside, behind tightly closed windows, the wind was raging and pouring rain.

— But she only seemed to be, — the girl continued, taking a breath. She could not speak for a long time. — Because of the look. Because of the eyes. She had such... you saw. But I knew her intimately. Yana was kind. Caring. She always took care of those who had a hard time. Supported and guided. Yana was born a leader. If there were ranks in the guard, she would become a commander. The lady's guards... have lost a lot. They are all good fighters, but only Yana knew how to... organize them. Without any title, she was simply loved and therefore obeyed.

— May the Creator accept her into his Last Army. — Valria raised her glass, and she and the master drank. Then the elf brought another mug to the sergeant's lips and let the sergeant take a sip. — We will see her again at the End of All Days. We will stand with Yana under one banner.

— Yes. — Dallan said softly and lowered her eyelids. Her breathing became even. The magician and the elf sat in silence, looking first at the wounded woman, then at each other. Two days have passed since the coronation. The Duchess made sure that they were not disturbed, and provided everything for the care of their friend. They themselves did not ask Dallan about anything — and she was in no hurry to tell. It was now clear to Carlon, even without questioning, why she had taken time off from Valria and was following them secretly. Elf — even more so. The fact that the green-eyed swordswoman had once served in the guards of the princess, from where, according to everyone's belief, they go only to the cemetery, struck Carlon. However, he managed to contain his curiosity. Someday, the one who is no longer called Lady Anne will tell him as much as she sees fit. For now, it is enough to know that she is still a loyal comrade.

There was a knock on the door. The magician looked at Valria in surprise and went to open it. The elf, meanwhile, loaded her crossbow and retreated into a dark corner. A sodden messenger was found outside the threshold, accompanied by two equally soaking palace guards.

— For Lady Valria, a package from the palace. Personally in hands.

Received from the messenger, a round object, wrapped in oiled leather, they hoisted on the table.

— I guess what's in there, — said the visibly cheerful girl.

— Watermelon? Too heavy, in my opinion. — Carlon unraveled the ropes that entangled the bundle, pulled the wrapper off the object. He gasped.

It really was a watermelon. Artfully crafted in silver, a watermelon embellished with stripes of gold foil.

— Why did I save her? — In a whisper, so as not to wake her friend, the elf exclaimed.

— Well, we didn't catch the killer. — Carlon grunted, fascinated stroking the miracle watermelon with his fingertips. — They just kicked him out of the city. And we did not deserve the reward we discussed. Think of it as just payment for effort.

— How many times have I told myself not to mess with those in power... — Valriya muttered grimly, turning away from the work of art. — I'll chop this thing up tomorrow and sell it piece by piece. And with the proceeds I will buy a cartload of watermelons.

— You'd be better off hiring more people. — Carlon sighed. — We will meet this Peter again, mark my words. But the two of us are not enough against him.

— Ha. — The captain threw back her head and pointed to the bed. — Two — yes. But there are three of us again. I really hope to meet him again...

End of second story.

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