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— Tell me, Carlon... Don't you love me at all? — she asked in a mock pitying voice, peering into the wizard's face.
— You see... I never wanted a little sister, — the Master sighed, glancing up at the dragon. — And now that I have one, against my will, I don't know what to think. I guess I love her. There, I said it out loud.
— Dummy. I'm a hundred and five years old.
— So?
— So. I'm the eldest.
— That's good. You're the eldest.
Her Highness Christina the Second was the last to be taken from the tower, along with those who did not need a physician's help — that is, the mercenaries and the body of Lady Kaya. Below, the Duchess was greeted by the girl guardsmen left in the camp. Throwing away all their restraint and seriousness, they enclosed Christina in an embrace, almost dropping her to the ground. One of the bodyguards even cried, throwing not only Carlon, but all those present in a deep confusion. The Duchess of Elvart stroked the heads of her protectors and soothed them with tender words, just like children. Having finally let her mistress go, the guardsmen lifted the fallen sister in their arms and carried her away without allowing anyone to help.
— Your Highness, what to do with the castle? — Sir Harold, who had assumed command of the escort, asked Christina.
— Leave it as it is, — replied the Duchess. — I would advise no one to enter it. Perhaps the Emperor will send his mages and investigators here at a later time, but for now it is enough that the gates are locked, with no one to open them. Take down the siege, sir. We rest all day today and care for the wounded. Tomorrow, we move on to the capital. Our schedule has not been cancelled.
The raiders requisitioned the only decent bath in the village in the name of the duchess, but it was immediately occupied by women — Christina herself, Valria and Dallan. Soaked in Peter's blood and freezing cold, Carlon had to walk around the camp for a while, waiting for his turn. He visited the duke's healer, made sure the wounded guardsmen were asleep and Lady Adele was in no danger, and talked to the soldiers. It turned out that as soon as the gates of the castle had closed, Sir Harold had released a pair of carrier pigeons brought in by the clibanarians. He must have acted on the instructions left by Christina, and the dragons over the castle did not appear by coincidence — they simply arrived before the other reinforcements summoned from the capital. Finally getting to the sweat lodge, the master washed the dust of the dead castle off himself properly. The wizard could not make it to his room, but lay down on a straw mattress near the soldiers' fire and fell asleep there.
Late the next morning, the cortege was preparing to leave. The wounded remained in the village under the guard of a dozen raiders. New healers were to be sent from the city — a personal healer Christina preferred to see by her side. Lady Emilia, despite the terrible condition of her left arm, was able to climb into the saddle, so that in the hut of the village head, which had become a hospital, Carlon found only Adela and Maria. The surviving twin was asleep; Maria was reading.
— She had not woken up? — the mage asked, taking a seat on the stool at the head of the bed.
— No. — Maria put the book aside. — Sleep heals.
— She doesn't know yet that Kaya is dead.
— Yes. But don't let that worry you, Master.
— О.... — Carlon shifted his eyebrows. — She'll come back, just like Jana, won't she?
— Probably. If she wants to.
They were silent for a while, for the first time not knowing what to talk about. Maria stroked the cover of her book with her fingertips, smiled uncertainly:
— I've been lucky with my wounds. The scars on my legs will heal. It could have hit my face, after all. Am I still beautiful, Master?
— You are still beautiful, lady, — the wizard smiled back.
— I wish we had made it to the capital together. I had hoped we would have more time. But you recall my words? Our paths are parting. It is time for us to say goodbye. Perhaps we will meet again, but please do not look for that meeting on purpose.
— Of course we will. — The mage hummed. — Her Highness will travel back the same way in a few days. I'm sure she will take you with her.
— Oh... — There was a silly expression on the guardsman's face. — I hadn't thought of that.
After a moment's pause, they laughed together — quietly, for fear of waking the wounded woman...
Epilogue
It was long past midnight and the lanterns on the streets of Elvart were extinguished. The moon was obscured by clouds, and the only room of the cottage and its garden were lit only by the embers in the fireplace and the oil lamp on the table. Pulling the lamp closer, Carlon leafed through "The History of the Noble Iderling Dynasty," not really making sense of the pages. Valria and Dallan were snoozing peacefully on the bed, under the blanket they shared, and the wizard should have been asleep on his cot in the corner. But he was stubbornly turning page after page. His mind was a muddled mess. There was too much to think about.
The homage had gone without a hitch. The way back did not cause problems either — fortunately, after the unsuccessful assassination attempt, the duchess had a whole army to accompany her. Already in the lands of the duchy cortege caught up with the news, which Her Highness wanted to share with the mercenaries. She summoned them to her tent, where, in addition to Christina, Lady Emilia was present with her arm in a sling.
— Three days ago, King Octavian the Third Iderling was murdered in his own hunting castle. Along with his wife, his sons, his two daughters, and his young grandson, — the Duchess reported as everyone settled into their folding camping chairs. — The method of killing is unknown. There is talk of poisonous fumes filling the refectory where the king and his family dined. Only Octavian's middle daughter, who was in another castle, survived. She immediately left under heavy guard for the royal palace. She was killed right outside with a shot to the head. Firearms were fired, from a great distance. There is panic in the Coalition. They are looking for distant relatives of the king from side branches of the dynasty. The capital, Daert, smells of civil war.
— This is... very familiar, — Carlon stretched out. — Very familiar.
— Undoubtedly, — the Duchess nodded. — But why are our enemies doing to them what's been happening to us?
— Well... — Valria tilted her head to her shoulder, one ear cocked. — Either there are some internal forces fighting in the Coalition, or the Coalition has nothing to do with what is happening, and they are victims too.
— But we know Peter was working for the Iderlings, — Dallan remarked.
— How do we know that? — The elf-woman raised her eyebrows. — From the word of one man. A resident of Imperial Intelligence.
There was silence in the tent for about two minutes. At last Carlon dared to ask:
— What shall we do?
— Nothing, for now, — answered Christina the Second. — Hurrying now is the worst thing to do. If someone wants me dead, I must live. Let's stop there. And we'll look for new leads.
— But Your Highness, why are you bringing us into all this? — Valria leaned back as if her stool had a backrest. — You know that I am personally acquainted with the chief of imperial intelligence, and in general, just a mercenary working for money.
— I know, Captain, — the duchess assured her. — However, after the experience in the castle of my precious cousin, I trust you. And that, in our position, is the most important thing. I need people I can trust. There are fewer and fewer of them. If you don't mind staying with me...
— In part, — the elfess interrupted Christina unceremoniously. — Your Highness, I am happy to help you untangle the tangle around this story. But I will not 'stay with you. I am commander of a free company and will remain so.
— I understand, Lady Valria. — The Duchess lowered her eyelids and turned her gaze to the wizard. — And you, Master Carlon? You are not part of the Captain's company, and I can offer you a post in the palace guard. With special powers.
— I'll have to think about it, — Carlon answered quickly.
— Certainly. — Christina the Second suddenly smiled. — You have time.
The mercenaries could have spent the first night at the palace on their return to Elwart, but Valria was in a hurry to see her favorite cottage, and Carlon followed her there. He ended up spending the night there, as the girls had dragged an old mattress and a couple of blankets out of the closet especially for the mage. However, sleep did not come. Staring blankly into a book, the mage tried to think of a dozen things at once. Who had truly summoned the assassin from the other world? Why would the Empire kill Elvartian rulers if the Duchy was a strong and loyal vassal? Why would the Coalition want chaos in a kingdom on which the military might of the entire West rests? Why did Mr. Sandr contract the company for the last missions, and then where did he go? Is it worth accepting the Duchess's offer? A post in the guard is a steady income, a job in the palace. And a job at the palace is a job with Maria. The chance to be with her every day. But if he joins the guards, he will dive deeper into politics than he is now and become a servile man. Would it be worth it?
The mage removed his pewter-rimmed glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose with force, and... barely contained a frightened cry. On the other side of the table, two yellow dots were burning in the gloom. The golden dots just hung motionless in the air outside the circle of light from the lamp. Looking closely, Maitre realized that the lights were eyes. Around them was the faint outline of a face — a woman's face, no doubt.
— Lady Yana? — The mage asked uncertainly. The lights flickered up and down-the shadow nodded. Carlon could see her fully now — the ghost was sitting on a chair, leaning on the tabletop with her elbow. Jana was not yet strong enough to manifest, and she seemed to be just that transparent black shadow in which barely visible familiar outlines — short hair, round shoulder pads of cuirass, cloak falling on the back...
— Why are you here? — Carlon asked in a thicker voice. Had any one ever told him he would so calmly converse with a wraith... But the Wizard had little fear of Lady Yana, particularly after what he had seen at the castle. — Come to say goodbye?
The lights in her golden eyes flickered to the left and right. A hand reached out and touched a porcelain teapot beside the lamp.
— Uh... Would you like some tea? — The astonished master took the teapot in his hands, filled the cup, and held it up to the ghost. The shadow made a movement, as if to take the cup and sip from it — though the cup remained in place. Then stood up, walked over to the closet. She took her cloak off her shoulders and hung it inside — the shadow of the cloak disappeared. "Undressed," Lady Jana walked over to the bed, lay down on its edge so as not to touch the sleeping girls, and put her hands behind her head. The yellow lights went out, followed by the shadow itself.
— And what is that supposed to mean? — The mage asked into the void. He still held the teapot in his hands, hesitating to put it on the table. — Wait... Lady Jana, are you staying with us?
No one answered him. The light in the oil lamp flickered and something crackled in the fireplace.
— It's wonderful. — The wizard thought aloud. — They're bringing that lizard back one of these days.
Yes, it would seem that the mercenary company of the "Brightheads" had finally begun to grow. An empty-headed elf, a fattening mage, a noble exile, an overseas lizard, and the ghost of a guardsman. Comrades to be dreamed of...
The end.
39
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