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

— Our plans change? — Duchess specified.

— Not really. Judging by the location of magical protection, Count's chambers are one floor above. If we go in here, — Master nodded at the door guarded by the sergeant, — we will be below them. The donjon, though rebuilt, is still a donjon. Every floor in it is a fortress, so the enemies in the Count's rooms can lock us down. I'd suggest going higher and breaking straight up to the private floor anyway, but now I'd also suggest killing the wizard if we meet him there. I'm pretty sure the demonologist, the Count, and other assassination leaders, are sitting there, if there are any. But they may not have any guards with them. All those who have been waiting for us in ambushes around the castle are already dead. If we go through the private chambers, we'll solve some of our problems. Although if Peter and his gun are there, the risk will increase considerably.

— Well... — Valria stretched, pulling her hat down over her left ear to scratch behind her right one. — I don't see any better option. Your Highness?

— I agree with the master, — Christina nodded. — Emilia, gather everyone. Prepare for the assault.

On the way upstairs, the small squad encountered no enemies — no living, no ghosts, no possessed. The fourth floor was uninhabitable, with crumbling cupboards and chests that held all sorts of belongings, from moth-eaten clothes to bronze candlesticks. Closets and chests piled on top of each other occupied every room, even part of the main corridor. What was missing from the floor was a door to the keep. It had been cut through during the construction of the wing, but the doorway was now covered with white bricks. The gallery was a dead end.

— The Earl is quite paranoid,— Valria remarked as she went to the wall and touched the bricks with her fingers. The brown suede of her glove had gray smudges of dust on it, and the elfess wiped them squeamishly on her pants.

— Is there anything you can do about it, master? — asked the duchess.

— I think so. — Carlon, too, put his palm on the cool brickwork and lowered his eyelids. — There is no iron behind the brick. The inner defense only works against intangible threats; it doesn't prevent an explosion. But, of course, the wall is stronger than the door. And also... When the door was here, it closed the circle of inner protection. The node of the circle is still inside the doorway. If I destroy the wall, the circle is irreversibly broken. As it were... the door would remain open, in terms of the system.

— And the Count's chambers would open to the demons? — Christine rubbed her chin. Her face became exactly like her father's.

— Yes, Your Highness.

— Hmm. That's not bad at all. Give me a second. — The ruler of Elvart whispered something, and Carlon shuddered to find Lady Jana standing beside him. The mage moved aside — the ghost's touch could drink away the rest of his strength and cause illness in the future. That the ghost had no wish to harm was irrelevant. — You take care of the wall while I explain something to Jana.

While the duchess instructed her ghostly protector, the master took two identical amulets from his belted purse. " Fire Discs" — an intricate weave of fine gold wire and a red transparent stone in the center. It was exactly the same one Carlon had used in the basement of the dead fortress — perhaps a hundred years ago. Back then, the explosion of the amulet had diverted the attention of his enemies, giving the mage's companions a chance to attack. Now it was time to use the "Disks" for what they were intended. The wall of the donjon would not be breached by the amulets, of course. But they could beat masonry, even double masonry.

Whistling a soldier's song under his breath, Karlon chewed some tar and used it to glue the "Fire Discs" to the brick, one at the bottom of the former opening and one at the top. With a piece of charcoal, he began to draw an elongated oval encompassing both amulets. Out loud, he remarked, unhappily:

— I'm running out of tricks.

— I'm amazed at how much stuff you carry in your pockets anyway, — said Valria, eyeing him with a smirk. — If you'd had your belt on you, we'd probably have gone out the front door.

— Done. — He set the charcoal down, and stepped back, peering closely at the pattern that held the amulets together. — As soon as I cast the spell, the door will reappear. The force of the blast would go one way, and the debris would go the same way, so all we had to do was step back. But... I figure... I'd have to use most of my energy for the blast. I'll save some for the salt barrier, that's all. No magic for the next 24 hours, and just standing up will be hard.

— Don't worry. — Valria gently took the mage by the elbow. — I'll carry you.

— You? Me?

— Well, at least I won't leave you alone. If I can't lift you, I'll lie down beside you.

— Master Carlon has proven himself many times today, — Duchess Christina said in an unexpectedly formal tone. — Our survival depends on his knowledge and skills. Therefore... Maria.

— Yes, Madam.

— From now on, I entrust the master to your care. My salvation depends on his life, so consider that by protecting him, you are protecting me. Stay by his side, protect him, and if necessary, die for him. Those are my orders.

— Yes, ma'am. — The blue-eyed girl put hand to her heart and bowed her head.

— Aha... — Valria squinted her eyes and put her ears perked up. — So this is how Guardswomen get married. Well, Carlon, congratulations.

Contrary to usual, the mage made no attempt to grab the elfess by the ear or give her a slap. He merely looked up at Valria, full of longing and fatigue. The Captain, unaccustomed to such behavior, was momentarily taken aback and averted her eyes. Master sighed:

— Everyone please step back five meters, at least.

The guardsmen pressed against the dusty walls of the gallery, drawing their swords. Only Kaye aimed her trophy crossbow at the archway. The duchess remained in the rear, guarded by Dallan, while Valria stood in the middle of the corridor, beside the wizard. She put her hand on his shoulder, gave him a gentle squeeze. Carlon grinned crookedly. Slowly, so as not to make a mistake, he read the words of power. He snapped his fingers.

The solid brick wall, stiffened with excellent cement, was blown into the keep, as if by a gust of wind of unimaginable power. The blast was surprisingly weak, and the mage didn't even blink. Years of accumulated dust blasted across the floor, wrapping a gray veil around the corridor.

— Forward! — Lady Emilia shouted, darting first into the opening. The named sisters followed her. Karlon staggered, his knees trembling, but Valria put her shoulder to the master's shoulders and kept him from falling. They held each other and dove into the cloud of dust that engulfed the guardsmen.

The bowstring of a crossbow slammed, blades clinked. By the time the mage and the elfess, coughing, burst into the corridor of the keep, which was no longer a dead end, there lay the first corpse. A tall man in a black brigantine without a coat of arms and a leather helmet stretched out on the rubble of a brick, having received an arrow in the forehead. A second enemy in the same outfit, Lady Emilia and Kaya pushed away from the archway. The warrior in the brigantine fought back skillfully, but got too caught up in swordsmanship with two opponents and missed the third. Taking advantage of her considerable height, the Lady Maria struck over Emilia's shoulder with a deep lunge to get her opponent under his arm. Kaya immediately finished off the wounded man with a slash to the throat. The warrior's body was still on the ground, and the girls were already hurrying on.

A narrow corridor led to a huge round room with a high ceiling. Judging by the rich furnishings, the room served Count Cyril both living room and office. A stone staircase along the western wall led to other floors of the tower. The earl himself was drinking wine at a low table, in the company of a gray-bearded old man of rather good looks — an explosion made them both jump up. The castle master let out a sound like a cat's strangled mewing when he saw the guards burst into his chambers and limped to the other side of the room, to the protection of two more soldiers in black brigantines. His drinking companion was quicker, sneaking behind the backs of the blacks first. Emilia and Kaya rushed to them, but then the doors in the walls of the study-room opened, and from the adjoining rooms poured out another half dozen equally armed soldiers. They bore little resemblance to servants picking up swords for the first time. The girls chose to retreat, standing shoulder to shoulder with their sisters, covering Carlon and the Duchess who had emerged from the corridor. "The Black Brignatines" lined up opposite, and the circular room was divided in half by a double line. On one side was a thin line of guardsmen in silver armor, on the other a string of warriors in black brigantines. The "black" line was twice as long as the blue-silver one.

— I didn't expect anyone to be here,— said Count Cyril hoarsely from behind his defenders. His voice trembled a little, but more from age than from fright. — Christine, girl, why did you leave dinner early? Bored without my company, eh?

— Oh, of course not, — replied the ruler of Elvart in tone with the Count. She stood directly behind her bodyguards, along with Sergeant Dallan. — You have labored, dear cousin, to keep me in interesting company since your departure.

— Yes, but I see you weren't happy with it. Perhaps...

— Enough with the ceremonies, — a new, familiar voice interrupted the count. Peter stepped down from the upper floor, playing with his pistol. He was followed by two more warriors in brigantines. — Count, you had a chance to chat with a relative earlier. Do your business. We have all the trumps. Actually, I'm sorry about the ammunition, these last ones, but if you can't handle it, so be it...

He pointed the gun at the duchess, but she was overshadowed by Lady Maria — as the tallest of the guardsmen. The place of the girl in the line immediately took Dallan.

— Are you sure you're the only one with trumps? — Christina the Second was nonchalantly curious.

— Even if you're not bluffing, — the alien began. But this time he was not allowed to finish. The Earl made a grunt as he pointed behind Peter.

Lady Jana ran up the stairs and through the closed trapdoor. In the bright light of the chandelier, she seemed almost translucent — or perhaps the manifestation had weakened from her many wounds. White shimmering notches left by the demons' touches covered the ghost's arms, chest, and back, one faintly glowing across her cheek. As she stepped onto the landing, Jana jumped sideways. The mage didn't immediately understand why — but a moment later he saw the demon's head through the hatch boards. It looked like a skinny, wingless dragon and crawled out into the light, glancing up at the charging humans with scarlet eyes. After the first demon, more came pouring down from the lower floors.

The Count's quarters were in chaos in the blink of an eye. "The Black Brigantines" screamed in terror, trying to cut demons with their swords or run from them, ghostly predators chasing people around the room. Peter, who had not been touched by the demons, shouted commands, waved his pistol — no one listened to him. The guardsmen surrounded their mistress and led to the exit, shielding their bodies from possible gunfire, waving away the creatures with amulets and panicked soldiers with their blades. All but the Lady Maria, who rushed to Carlon, took him by the arm and practically dragged the heavy warlock along with Valria. Jana's ghost rushed between the two groups, clearing the way for them. As they neared the landing in front of the stairs, Carlon noticed the Count's gray-bearded guest gesticulating furiously, muttering something to himself. The effect of his actions was evident as the demons who had been closing in on the two old men suddenly spun around and left them alone and sped off after the guardsmen.

— The gray-haired man is a mage! — With all his strength, Carlon shouted, pointing a finger at the demonologist. — The summoner!

He was heard. Sergeant Dallan separated herself from the group, deftly weaving between the enemies, ran up to the old man who was busy witchcrafting, cracking his skull open with one sword blow. She hurried backward, but two of the demons loomed up in front of her, cutting her off from her comrades.

— Dallan! — Valria lunged at her friend, nearly toppling the wizard, but quickly came to her senses. She groaned through clenched teeth.

Lady Jana, who had just been fighting at the other end of the hall, spun out of thin air in front of her sergeant, jabbed one demon in the paw and blocked the blow of the second with her glowing blade. She waved her hand, indicating to the green-eyed girl that she should run to her comrades. Dallan responded with a nod and sprinted from her place. A few seconds later she was next to Valria and Carlon. But the ghost of the guardsman was surrounded on all sides by demons. Perhaps Jana could have disappeared again and reappeared elsewhere, but she chose to remain in the thick of the creatures, gathering them on herself, distracting them from her comrades. The ghost's faded sword flashed more and more frequently, the guardswoman spun on her heels, chopping at the paws and tentacles reaching for her. Already standing on the stone steps, Carlon drew a bag of salt from his pocket with trembling fingers, untied the string with his teeth, and sprinkled the salt across the stairs. He roughly drew a line with the toe of his boot and charged it with a bit of energy to create a weak barrier for a few minutes. He cast one last glance at the room he'd left behind. Peter was gone. The bodies of the "Black Brigantines" were lying around like rag dolls, and the fatted creatures were wandering or floating in the air. Lady Jana had disappeared beneath the demons piling over her, and all that was visible from beneath their gray carcasses was a faint twitching leg in a brown guardsman's boot. The leg convulsed before the mage's eyes, twitching for the last time and scattering the familiar silver dust.

Climbing up the aisle following Christina, the maestro heard Count Cyril's shrill shriek. It was a small consolation to him...

* * *

The top of the main tower of the castle was exactly what Carlon had hoped for. It was a completely empty circular open-air platform, surrounded by massive square battlements of black stone. The last to get out were a panting mage and the Lady Maria, who had covered the rear. Seeing that no one was lagging behind, the guardian attempted to slam the thick iron hatch shut, but she couldn't do it, the hinges were rusted. Dallan and Kaya came to her aid. Just the three of them lowered the lid, and pushed down the two metal bolts.