Chapter 3

  The cloaked figure waved at them from the edge of a small grove, and Valria, who was travelling first, raised her palm in greeting. A couple of minutes later, the former royal bailiff and the elven woman rode into the company's camp, tucked among the trees. A cauldron hung over the fire in a freshly dug pit, but the water was not yet boiling. Corporal Green took the reins from them, hissing contentedly from beneath his deep hood. He was always glad when he saw Valria after a separation, even a short one. It was as if he feared that the girl would one day run away. In fact, as de Gorazzo had noticed, the lizard-man was almost more attached to his captain than the green-eyed Dallan.

  - I love you, too. - The elfess patted the lizard on the shoulder and, smiling, walked past. Asked: - What's for dinner?

  - Water, salt, and a handful of grits, - said master Carlon, sitting by the fire. - The salt will run out soon, by the way. By the look of your ears, everything went smoothly, didn't it?

  - Don Armando had a real talent for knocking people out and drilling holes in ship's bottoms. - The girl took off her hat and lowered her long, floppy ears. - I've always been able to see the hidden perspectives in people. I think we've got a day's head start, if not more.

  - That's good. - The mage looked into the pot, held his palm over the water. - Because we need to slow down and replenish our supplies. The horses won't get far on grass alone.

  - You don't have to teach me, you educated barbarian, - Valria stopped smiling. She lowered herself to the ground beside the mage and gestured for Armando to sit down. - We'll walk until sunset, spend the night in the field once. We'll spend the next night in town. We'll have beds and meat, stalls and fodder for the horses. Everyone will be happy.

  - Why the next one? - Bubbles appeared on the surface of the water, and the mage pulled a bag of cereal from his saddlebag. - I looked on the map, and there's a large village about three hours away. Not on the road, but there's bound to be an inn there. Or a vacant barn at least.

  - No, we're not going to the nearest village. - The captain unbuttoned her short blue cloak, folded it skilfully. She lay on her back with her long legs stretched out toward the fire, tucking the roll under the back of her head. - We mustn't even be seen there. If anyone asks, the villagers will honestly say that they haven't seen any travellers, and they don't know where we've gone. We'll go round the village in an arc and go straight to a bigger town, where there are more people. And from there - to the sea.

  - All right. You've got the city mapped out, right?

  - Miroslavl. I don't know anything about it except its name, but it's far enough from the border. - Valria put her hat on her face and spread her arms out to the sides. - You tell me when the food's ready, I'll give my eyes a rest. They're tired and watery.

  - She's asleep, - the mage said after a short silence. - Eh, youth...

  - She hasn't slept for two nights, - Armando said in a low voice. - I'd forgotten. She seemed so energetic.

  - Two nights without sleep is nothing to a child. - Master Carlon grinned as he poured the rest of the grits into the bubbling pot. - But let her nap for an hour or two.

  - A child? - de Gorazzo didn't understand. But the mage only hummed in response, concentrating on cooking.

  It was past noon. The sun hung high over the grove, its warm rays piercing through the lush summer foliage, covering the ground in an intricate pattern of spots of light. Corporal Green returned to the edge of the forest to keep watch. Lady Maria was brushing her nester horse, occasionally stroking it affectionately with the palm of her hand on its side. Armando thought he should do the same, but Dallan approached the fire. The sergeant leaned over Valria, shook her head. She sat down beside elf, put a hand on her thigh, and asked quietly:

  - Have you been to the Republic before, Don Armando?

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  - No, but I know a lot about it, - De Gorazzo said in her tone. - Republics are commerce, and commerce is always crime. The royal bailiffs have had a lot of dealings with both Erdo and Iolia. Even without visiting them personally. Smuggling, coin counterfeiting, contract killings, espionage...

  - Mainland Erdo is said to be very different from island Erdo.

  - That's right, - Armando nodded. - The Republic was founded by refugees from the Cherry Islands across the ocean. A few clans lost the civil war and fled to the sea because there was nowhere else to go. They reached the continent just as the First Empire was collapsing and the new powers had not yet formed.

  - I know that, Don.

  - Of course you do. Everybody does. But the point is that the refugees first settled on the coastal islands. - De Gorazzo raised his palm, showing that he was not to be interrupted any further. - The islands were inhabited by fishermen and pirates, whom the refugees simply slaughtered. That's why the islands of the Republic are now inhabited mostly by the direct descendants of those overseas clans. But the strip of land on the continent was not settled by the Erdosians, but subjugated. These lands have been inhabited by the Virians since pre-Imperial times. A very skilful people, but very fond of fighting with each other. The First Empire pacified them for a while, but when it collapsed, everything went back to the way it was. Every Virian city went to war with its neighbours. The Erdosians made themselves at home and in half a century took over as much land as they could, given the small number of their troops. And some of the cities they subdued not by force, but by word, playing on the ambitions and enmity of the rulers.

  - I see. - The sergeant shifted her eyebrows a little, drummed her fingers on Valria's thigh. She, without waking up, jerked her leg. - So there are Virians on the continent...

  - Yes, - Armando confirmed. - They are forbidden to settle on the islands of the Republic. Islanders are allowed to move to the continent, but there aren't many who want to. In general, continental Erdo is the same as Daert, without the exoticism. The only real Erdosians there are in garrisons and trading houses. Except that the local nobles, called boyars, like to take Erdosian names while keeping Virian surnames. For example, the Republic's ambassador to the kingdom is Boyar Korobeinikov Musashi. Or the governor of one of the prefectures, Prince Kenji Voronin.

  - I'll admit, surnames sound as weird as first names.

  - Yeah, you're from... Elvart. - Armando corrected himself at the last moment, almost saying “from the Empire”. - But there are Virians in Iolia and Daert... We're used to it.

  - Do you know the Erdos language?

  - Mostly swear words - Don admitted with a chuckle.

  - Ha. Knowledge at the level of a graduate of a military magic school, - master Carlon chuckled softly, sitting with his back to them. The mage was stirring the company's future meal with a long wooden spoon. - I, too...

  - Does the Lady Maria know Erdos? - De Gorazzo asked in turn.

  - Of course. - The sergeant looked over her shoulder at the girl guard. She had finished grooming the horse and was now washing her hands with water from a flask. - Maria knows everything.

  It was said with the unwavering confidence with which a small child speaks of his mother. Armando had never wondered how long the mercenaries had known the pale lady, but given the relationship between her and master Carlon... Yes, it was foolish to think that Maria was merely formally representing her duchess to the company.

  - In any case, there should be no problem, - assured the don. - Erdosians mostly know literary Daertian, they are traders and sailors. Even on the islands we'll explain ourselves somehow.

  - Thank you, Armando. - The corners of Dallan's lips lifted faintly. De Gorazzo had never seen anything more like a smile in her performance yet. He tried to smile back, feeling a strange chill in his chest. He remembered - the last time the sergeant had called him simply by his first name there, in the mountain grove where the survivors of the storming of the fortress had gathered.

  - It was nothing. - Don swallowed, feeling the ice ball under his heart melt away as quickly as it had appeared. Just a second of weakness. It would pass. He had already recovered. Already in control.

  - I'll... I'll ask you more later, okay? About... - Dallan hesitated, clearly not immediately thinking of what she wanted to ask. - About the island Erdo.

  - Of course. - Looking into the girl's dark green eyes, Armando thought that she already knew everything he had just told her. The difference between the two parts of the Republic, and the names of the boyars. It was just... Dallan trying to support him. To the best of her ability. Awkwardly and clumsily, but sincerely trying to distract him, to keep him busy, to stop him from feeling lonely. And Valria's been doing the same thing recently. The sergeant could drill a hole in the ferry as well as a noble don. But the elf had taken Armando, who she did not know well, rather than a close companion.

  - I'm glad to help, - the former bailiff added sincerely. Dallan nodded at him and lay down on the grass. She rested her head on her friend's chest and closed her eyes. Valria shuddered, waking up. She pushed her hat off her face and asked in a sleepy voice:

  - Porridge?

  - Given the concentration of grits in the cauldron, it's more like soup, - master Carlon said without turning round. - It will be soon. Sleep now.

  - I'll fall asleep and you'll eat it all. - Nevertheless, the captain took the advice and put her hat back in its place. She put one arm round Dallan's shoulders. - Look, sly ones, I'm on my guard. I've got a fine ear, I'll hear a slurp....