Novel 3. The Last Autumn

— You'll get used to it, lady. It's a matter of practice. You can get used to anything, given time. — The stranger grinned and touched the collar around his throat with his fingers. Master Carlon had made the collar out of a leather belt and an old tobacco pouch. The pouch was filled with gunpowder mixed with copper nail heads, and in the centre of it rested a small piece of enchanted bronze. Since the amulet did not touch the alien's body, and did not affect him directly, the aliens' trademark "antimagic" should not have worked. If something happened, the mage could make the amulet produce a spark from afar. The spark ignited the gunpowder, and an explosion of a completely non-magical nature tore the collar wearer's throat out. Alex seemed to appreciate the invention, respectfully calling the bearded mage "Father Elijah". He didn't explain what Elijah was famous for, but he asked that the comparison be considered a compliment.

— You should try shooting at a stationary target on solid ground first, — the defector continued. — Not from the deck of a floating ship.

— I've counted my remaining rifle loads, and I'm afraid they're too few to practise often. We can't start small. — With a sigh, Lady Maria raised her rifle again. She looked through the telescopic sight without squinting her other eye. — Let's continue.

The next shot also missed its target, but now the pale girl did not lower her weapon. She inhaled deeply and exhaled smoothly for the third time. Even without spyglass, Armando saw large splinters spatter from the drifting barrel.

— Wow, — was all he said.

— Just on the very edge, — the lady frowned, turning back to the men. — Barely a scratch.

The defector stranger clapped her on the shoulder with a strange expression:

— No. You're good. No, really. You're good. I'm surprised.

— Thank you. — Maria smiled sincerely at Alex, and he smiled back.

"Captain Velria has a way of charming people from the first moment they meet, but the longer you know her, the more you realise how irritating she can be," Armando thought, resting his elbow on the bulwark. — With Lady Maria, it's exactly the opposite. The more days you spend in her company, the more you trust her. It seems to work the same way with aliens from other worlds.

— Ships directly ahead! — shouted the observer in the "crow's nest". Skipper Dorlt and his navigator daughter were on deck almost immediately. The black-haired elven girl ran up to the forecastle, and the "Elena's" commander headed for the bow.

— How are your lessons going, ladies and gentlemen? — The navigator asked with restrained politeness, standing beside the helmsman. She put one hand on the wheel.

— Good, — Maria said in her tone. That was the end of the conversation.

The ships spotted by the lookout turned out to be large war galleys. Three of the ships had their masts down and were making strange manoeuvres on their oars. Their stern towers were adorned with the white and gold flags of the Republic of Erdo, and their bows were enclosed in a sort of cage of iron bars. The galleys did not seem to notice the caravel, but manoeuvred precisely across its course.

— Hard to port! — shouted Skipper Dorlt from the bow. The mighty voice of the bearded elf drowned out all other noises, the whistling of the wind in the tackle and the crashing of the waves against the sides of the caravel.

— Hard to port, — repeated the navigator calmly. The helmsman nodded, pushed hard on the rudder, and the "Elena" steered steeply to the side. A minute later the skipper ran up to the bays, holding his hat.

— Ha-ha-ha-ha! Almost got into a pile-up! — he said to the passengers gathered there. — Let's make a detour, I think.

— What's going on in there? — Armando asked. — Is it the Republican fleet?

— Yes, Senate and taiko ships. Chancellor's, in other words, — Dorlt nodded. — What they're doing... I can guess, and I don't like it. See the iron bars on the forward superstructures?

— Mm-hmm.

— It's a defence... not against cannonballs, magic or ramming.

— What's it for, then? — Alex frowned.

— Ha! Let's see now.

Catching the wind with slanting sails, the "Elena" was making a solid arc. The three galleys remained on the starboard side. Armando finally understood the meaning of their manoeuvres. It was as if the ships of the Republic were trying to surround someone invisible and constantly moving.

— There it is! — The skipper pricked up his holey ears and pointed his finger. — There, look!

A huge grey back flashed among the turquoise waves. Lady Maria fixed her rifle's telescopic sight, using it instead of a telescope:

— Whale?

The beast of the sea, meanwhile, made a semicircle and dashed towards one of the galleys. It hastily began to turn round to face it, aiming at the beast with a powerful battering ram, shod with bronze. The cannons on the forward tower fired a volley, but the cannonballs only sprayed fountains on the sides of the grey back. The beast came close to the ship... And out of the water came long tentacles topped with curved spikes. The tentacles entangled the bow of the galley, crushing the iron bars, the spikes digging into the plating. The beast pulled itself towards the ship with a jerk, and its oblong face emerged from the water. Its tentacles grew round it in a wreath like a nightmare parody of a lion's mane.

— A kraken?! — shuddered Armando.

— No, a whale, — said the equally dumbfounded Lady Maria. — There was a... whale. I'm after Carlon!

Throwing her rifle on her shoulder, the girl took off. The skipper, however, gave orders:

— Load the guns. Maintain course.

Under the weight of the monster, the attacked galley's bow settled, its stern raised above the water. The sailors on the yuth could be seen firing at the tentacles from their arquebuses and swivel guns, chopping them down with axes. The other two ships flanked the beast without opening fire.

— Let's see your whalekraken. — The Imperial mage didn't have to wait long. As usual, grumbling under his breath, he stood beside the captain, took the scope unscrewed from Maria's rifle, and looked through it at the battlefield.

— Boom, boom, boom! Boom, boom, boom! — the cannons of the Republican galleys finally spoke. The cannonballs struck the monster in the back, tearing out chunks of grey flesh. The creature struggled silently, waving its tentacles. The ship it was still holding swayed dangerously. Several human figures, barely recognisable from this distance, fell overboard. One of the free galleys repeated the volley, and the other moved forward, ramming at the monster.

— What is that thing, master? — De Gorazzo asked, unable to take his eyes off the monster.

— Maria says it was a humpback whale. I believe her; she's read more animal books than I. With pictures, — the magician said, also keeping his eyes on the sight. Unlike Maria, he closed his left eye as he looked through the scope.

— There was a whale. What's that now?

— What you see. A sea monster, — the mage snorted. — A gift from the last war. Some whale had the misfortune to be near the fighting fleets of the Empire and the Coalition, got caught in a blast of raw magic, and that's what happened. I'm just surprised it survived this long. Usually these things take three or four years to catch, they're too aggressive. They throw themselves at ships. This one's been sailing for at least ten years.

The former whale let go of the battered galley, but it was too late. The second ship accelerated hard and smashed straight into the rounded side of the creature. The ram pierced the ribs and skin, penetrating deep into the monster's flesh. The long grey body bent unnaturally. The beast's spine seemed to snap in half from the impact. Nevertheless, the monster managed to push itself off the galley with its tentacles, pulling itself off the ram. Wriggling convulsively, it plunged, but immediately surfaced again. Again it plunged, again it surfaced, moving away from the Republican ships. White fountains danced around, as the galleys fired everything from bombards to crossbows. Still the sea beast managed to break the distance and headed north, disappearing among the waves and reappearing at the surface. Two of the galleys gave chase, while the third, damaged, drifted and pulled in the oars. From its deck a swift winged shadow sprang into the sky, instantly overtaking the departing ships. Armando did not have time to see it, but the black dot into which the shadow had turned circled over the monster's grey back.

— He won't escape, — Master Carlon said. With a grateful nod, the mage returned the sight to the Lady Guardian. — They'll catch up with him and kill him before daylight.

— It's a good thing we didn't run into it alone, — said the "Elena's" commander. — The thing would have peeled all the paint off my sides with those stubbies. And we've got bullet holes to fill. Ha-ha!

— Let me get this straight, — Alex suddenly spoke up. Watching the battle, the alien defector didn't utter a word. — These things... You know, like this one in the water. Do you have them after every big war?

— Well, yes, — the imperial mage nodded. — It depends on the luck of the draw. They're smaller on land, because they're made of people or animals, but they can be big in the sea.

— You know, — the stranger rubbed his chin glumly. — It seems to me now that threatening the inhabitants of your world with an atomic bomb was... a stupid idea.

Chapter 9

At first Armando thought the dragon was flying very high, but as it swept over the "Elena" and the wind from its leathery wings blew across the deck, the bailiff realised his mistake. The dragon was flying low. It was just that he was small. If Charcoal, who died in the mountain fortress, was as big as a good peasant's hut, the beast that overtook the caravel was barely bigger than a heavy horse.

— Snowy, have you read anything about island dragons? — Captain Valria asked as she looked at the lizard. She stood at the bulwark, leaning against it with her healthy arm. The loyal Dallan supported the commander by the waist. The two girls had spent the entire journey in the cabin, where the sergeant fed her friend food and medicine on a strict schedule. Elf whimpered and whined, but in the end she did everything she had to do to get better as soon as possible.

— Of course I did, Lady Valria. — Maria, who had been practising with an unloaded rifle on the benches, came down to join her comrades. She smiled a mischievous childish smile, much to Armando's surprise. — In truth, I now regret not having spent more time on books about Erdo's history, politics and geography. But the book on dragons had such beautiful coloured pictures....

The Lady Guardswoman leaned her hip against the bulwark, looking at the winged beast as well. It was hovering ahead, leading the ship toward the shore that loomed on the horizon. With the butt of her rifle against the deck, she said:

— The Erdos people brought dragons from their homeland, from across the ocean. There are several species, but they're all very small. And very, very clever.

— How much? — Valria squinted her eyes. — Smarter than Carlon?

— No, of course not. — Maria answered as if the question had been asked seriously. — But island dragons can write.

— Well, I saw a horse at the fair that could do that, too, — Don de Gorazzo snorted.

— The horse was just well-trained, — the lady objected. — Island dragons understand human speech. They can't speak themselves, but they can go on a scouting trip without a rider, and when they return they can scratch on the ground or sand a couple of Erdos characters — "army", "fleet", "north", "south"... Or, say, an arrow indicating the direction to the target. Old dragons can know up to a dozen characters, young ones remember three or four.

— They were smarter than Carlon, after all. — A gust of cold wind blew in, and the sharp-eared girl clung tighter to Dallan with visible pleasure. — He doesn't even know three characters, I'm sure.

— Then they're smarter than you, too. — The sergeant pinched her friend's side, making her yelp.

— I once spoke to an Erdosian who claimed to have been a dragonrider in his youth, — Armando remarked. — In his homeland.

— He probably wasn't lying, — Maria nodded. — An Erdos dragon can't lift a grown man, but it can fly with a teenager on its back. The most petite women are also fit to be riders. They are especially valued, for such a rider can serve longer than a teenager. They wear no weapons or armour. In battle the beast fights, and the rider keeps watch over the battlefield. An Erdos rider needs no special skills, only bravery, endurance, and the ability to get along with a dragon. Raised riders stay with the pack, giving commands from the ground or teaching newcomers. Both humans and dragons.

The girl was silent, and for some time they watched the flight of the winged lizard in silence. The winged lizard played over the waves, returning to the caravel and then drifting away, occasionally diving down and snatching fish from the water with its clawed hind legs. Straight ahead, the rocky shores of Etaido, the capital island of the Republic, rose out of the sea. In the light of the setting sun, the coastal cliffs looked pinkish red.

— How is your arm, lady? — Armando, who could not bear the silence, asked at last.

— Yeah, how's it going? — Valria, not a big fan of keeping her mouth shut either. — Everyone's been so busy worrying about me that they've forgotten about your wound.

— Not bad. — Maria smiled faintly. — Thank you for your concern. I'll only be able to fence with my left for a long time, but shooting is no problem.

— The scar will remain, — the captain sighed sympathetically. — I'll have no trace of it in forty years, but you'll have it for the rest of your life....

— Carlon thinks I'm beautiful, — the Lady Guardian said simply. It was clear from her voice that no other argument was required.

The dragon accompanied the "Elena" all the way to the harbour. It was only when the caravel began to retract its sails that the lizard took to the skies, joining a dozen of its kin. The island dragons parted the skies above the harbour with the seabirds. They chased seagulls, swooped down to the water for fish, and played with each other, dancing in pairs in the air.

— Amazing, — master Carlon muttered as he rose to join his companions. The dragons swarming overhead clearly impressed him more than the stone piers of the Erdos harbour. — They just fly like that... Don't they have masters?

— Ha! — Skipper Dorlt grinned. — A third of these dragons belong to the Customs Service, a third to the fort garrison. The rest were released to stretch their wings from the warships while they were parked.