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.

  - Who owns this port, anyway? - The mage asked, turning his gaze to the rows of ships that lined the shore. - Which clan?

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  - No one, - Armando replied. - Innoto is the capital of the Republic. The city and the surrounding lands are governed directly by the Senate. The soldiers of the Republican army and sailors of the navy are recruited from here. No clan has the right to station private troops here, and the locals are very proud of their status as guardians of the balance. The taiko chancellor's residence and the senate palace stand here. You get the picture. A neutral harbour for the peaceful resolution of internal disputes. Nine-tenths of political murders in the Erdo Islands occur here.

  Soon a pilot boat approached the “Elena”. It guided the caravel to a vacant pier, where a harbour official was waiting for her. A fat Erdosian, whose top was adorned with a tiny square cap, boarded the ship, accompanied by a couple of soldiers and a scribe. He was met by the navigator. The black-haired elfess bowed ceremoniously to the guest, said some polite words, and led him to the superstructure.

  - All right, lords and ladies, Elena will take care of the formalities, and I will go to fulfil my promise, - the skipper told the passengers, rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt for some reason. - Before the moon rises, you'll be invited to a conversation. Be ready.

  - Thank you, Captain. But I must go ashore to send a letter, - said the mage. - The sooner the better.

  - So let's go, - Armando shrugged. - I haven't been here myself, but I have a rough idea of where the “CommStar” station should be. Let's go together.

  - Just like that? - The mage raised his eyebrows. - The search is still in progress.

  - You don't often travel by sea, do you? - The pointy-eared skipper chuckled rumblingly. - Customs are only interested in our cargo. As long as you go on land without a crate on your shoulders, they don't care about you. Go wherever you want, but make it quick. Make it an hour or two.

  - What was the letter? - de Gorazzo asked the magician as the two of them stepped onto the stones of the pier. - Or is it a private matter?

  - No, not private at all. - The mage glanced around quickly, making sure they weren't overheard by some random loader. - Valria decided that since we're not going home yet, we should at least pass on the information we've gathered, the most important. Maria's compiled an encrypted message that looks like a regular business letter. It should be sent to the northern archipelago. An agent of the Ducal Intelligence will receive it there and forward it to the right place.

  - Clever, - Armando admitted. - Are there no spies of the Empire in the Republic? They could help us.

  - The Empire might have spies. - Mater sighed. - Only no one told us about them. The Duchy of Elvart hasn't.

  It wasn't difficult to find the “CommStar” building, and Armando only had to ask for directions a couple of times. The post office itself was an incredible relic of a bygone era. Once upon a time, a network of postal stations had entangled the entire continent, cementing the unity of Ancient Daert. The collapse of the Empire had torn that network to shreds, but fragments of it had been reborn time after time, either by the forces of new states or by the labours of enterprising individuals. In the Eastern Empire the state post office survived; in the Coalition the closest thing to its glory was the “CommStar” Company, founded jointly by Iolian bankers and Erdos merchants. By entrusting a parcel to the “Star”, it was hoped that it would find its destination as soon as possible. And that the breadcrumbs in the parcel would not be eaten on the way.

  The post office was housed in a solid stone building whose fa?ade was styled as a Daertian portico with columns. A white marble statue depicting a beautiful young girl in a man's travelling dress adorned the pediment. With one hand the girl was pulling back the hood of a short cloak from her head, and with the other she was holding the strap of a mailbag slung over her shoulder. Passing under the archway, Don de Gorazzo bowed his head. Royal bailiffs, even former ones, always paid homage to Saint Violetta, the patron saint of postmen, messengers, and honest travellers hurrying on important business. It was surprisingly crowded inside for such a late hour - Armando and Carlon had to take a place in the queue. However, it was more the fact that the only sleepy clerk was taking letters in the evening. Looking round in boredom, the don couldn't help smiling. The ceiling of the reception hall shone with gilded amulets, and in the corners were Erdosian "spirit houses" designed to trap the wicked. With the statue of a saint on the gable, it harmonised marvellously. The islanders had accepted the teachings of the One without difficulty, but had managed to fuse them with their native pagan rites. The abysses of the sea were in no hurry to swallow the Republic, so the One apparently had nothing against it.

  - Master, do you feel magic here? - Armando asked.

  - Of course. - The mage nodded to the far end of the hall. - Behind that wall must be a vault. There are several amulets at once - against dampness, against rodents....

  - And those things on the ceiling and in the corners?

  - Just jewellery. - Master scratched his beard and said, - Armando, how do you feel... in the squad?

  - Better than a couple of months ago, - Don replied after a short hesitation. – So what?

  - Are you able to take the lead when needed?

  - What do you mean? - De Gorazzo was wary.

  - You see... Our company is neither a ducal army nor an imperial legion. - The mage glanced at Armando, grinning lightly. - Valria is captain, of course, but that's because she's the biggest pain in the arse. It's our tradition that the one who understands the current situation best leads the squad. When it comes to dealing with magical problems, everyone listens to me, when it comes to sneaking through enemy territory, all listens to Valria. Do you understand?

  - I think so.

  - I have a feeling, Don, that in the current situation, the reins should be handed over to you. You have a good grasp of the realities here, and you're more... diplomatic. We won't need your skills as a tracker or warlord for a while. It's time for a judicial officer.

  - Master, you want me... to lead the company? - Armando couldn't believe it.

  - Well, no, of course not. Just feel free to be the first to speak up, to suggest plans, to put forward ideas. Everyone else will listen to you, I promise.

  - Even Captain Valria? - The don couldn't hold back a smile.

  - Well, except for Valria. - Carlon grinned back. - Just kidding, she knows how to appreciate other people's skills. I wouldn't be working with her otherwise. How so?

  - I... have to think about it.

  - Think, but quickly. - The queue moved forward, and the mage drew a letter from his jacket pocket and patted it against his palm. - The respite is over, Don.

  The bearded mage was right. They returned to the docks at first light, and Sergeant Dallan met the men at the dock. She said briefly: "We have visitors," and gestured to the superstructure. The Imperial mage and the former bailiff went straight to the captain's cabin, where they found the skipper in the company of the other passengers and two well-dressed Erdosians.

  - Here are the last of them, - said the master of the caravel. - Don, master, meet the gentlemen from the Irutava clan. Right now they will escort you to the clan residence to meet the official.

  - We are honoured. - Armando bowed quickly - not too deeply, though. The unfamiliar Erdosians were probably smallfolk. Master Carlon followed suit. - And you, Skipper, accept our thanks. Couldn't have asked for better.

  - Irutava is, after all... - the mage began, straightening up.

  - Yes. It's the surname of the current taiko of the Republic, - Armando nodded. - A man to whom we can tell many, many interesting things...