Chapter 3

The night incident did not affect the plans of the detachment in any way. The elf woke Carlon in the dark, in a surprisingly merciful way - the captain carried a bowl of hot stew in front of his nose until the magician woke up from the smell. The travelers had breakfast and gathered quickly in order to move out at dawn and not lose an hour of daytime. Nevertheless, as soon as it began to get light, the first thing the master did was go to check on the corpse of their intruder. Apparently, once upon a time it was an ordinary domestic pig. Or one of the creature's ancestors was a pig. Pigs, of course, do not have a bone sting on the tail and small black scales instead of a skin, but in general the origin of the creature was still guessed. Carlon spat heartily at the decapitated remains before returning to camp. The girls were already in the saddles and were talking in an undertone about something, waiting for him. Taking his place in the saddle, the magician grumbled:

- If such "pigs" wander around in one day's march from the border, it's time for someone in the ducal palace to point to the gallows. Where are the patrols looking?

- I think it wandered in here recently in search of prey, - Valria shrugged. - Perhaps it was driven from his familiar places by someone bigger. I would look for traces - where the beast came from, was there one... I think I will return here after, if the military office gives an order for an investigation.

- We have proof. - Sergeant Dallan leaned over and patted the tightly zipped leather bag in which she had hidden the creature's head. - But it will soon start to stink.

- Then let’s not delay. Forward! - the elf raised her hand theatrically and hit the horse with her heels - she did not wear spurs.

The sun rose to its zenith, and the detachment crossed the wasteland scorched by magic in a chain. The relatively safe “doors” of the neutral zone ended, the group went deeper into the very heart of the lands unfriendly to all living things. The company was led by Valria, unusually attentive and silent. The elf vigilantly looked around and listened - it was noticeable by the way the sharp tips of her long ears rose and fell. The girl constantly kept a loaded infantry crossbow on her knees. The second was the magician. Watching the captain from under half-closed eyelids, the master listened more to his inner feelings. He was not afraid to miss a material threat, relying entirely on his companions. Dallan closed the short column. The sergeant unhooked the spear from her saddle and placed it across the pommel.

The farther, the less monotonous the terrain became. There was no grass, but a tough thorny bush appeared, creeping along the ground, in places braiding dead trees. They had to dodge - in the thickets, horses could easily prick their legs into blood. From time to time there were crumbling ditches, funnels smoothed by time, round and elongated mounds of different heights. Some of them were mass graves, some were the remains of field fortifications. Once the detachment came across a completely normal-looking grove of two dozen young trees - healthy, with lush crowns. In their shadow, an equally ordinary lawn turned green, a spring spouted from the ground. A kind of oasis in the middle of the desert. The company traveled around this place in a wide arc. Valria looked over her shoulder for a long time, as if expecting the trees to give chase.

An hour later they got into trouble again. In appearance, the dry plain did not change a bit, but blue lightning the size of a fingernail danced around the magnificent white feather on the elf's hat. Carlon closed his eyes - and found that he continued to see lightning through his lowered eyelids. One of the signal wards in his baldric began to heat up. The magician pulled out a copper plate of the amulet, looked at it, hiding it from the blinding sun in his palms. Transparent pebbles set in copper shimmered the same color as lightning. Their light was also visible through the eyelids.

- We are not going further, - the master said resolutely to his companions. They turned their horses around without question. They had to return in their tracks and set a new detour, losing more than half an hour on this - but no one reproached the magician with a word. Valria gave him a questioning look as they walked, but Carlon just shook his head and there were no questions.

It was well past noon, and the captain sometimes stood up in her stirrups, looking for a convenient place to stop for lunch. But the bush fields and groves of dead trees looked too inhospitable. So, at the request of the elf, Dallan distributed crackers and thin pieces of dried meat to the detachment, which were eaten right on the go. While eating, the wanderers let their guard down a little and almost ran into a strange structure. Across their route, something like ship frames stuck out of the ground - two rows of black beams, curved towards each other. Only when he got close to them, Carlon realized that these were not beams ...

- Those are ribs, - Valria voiced his thoughts aloud. - Dragon ribs.

The elfess jumped down to the ground, walked over to the giant bones. Ignoring the warning exclamation of the magician, she put her hand on one of the ribs. She said quietly, without turning around:

- Poor fellow... Very young...

The dragon, judging by the size of the skeleton, was really small, almost a teenager. In any case, by the standards of land breeds. Most of the bones were covered with earth, even the skull was not visible. But to Carlon's surprise, Valria's voice trembled, as if she were standing over the body of a kinsman. The tips of the girl's ears drooped.

- Probably shot down during the war, - the master said the first thing that came to mind.

- Yes, probably ... - the elf agreed. She walked along the skeleton to the last ribs, examined something there, beckoned to her companions. The magician dismounted, approached, leading the horse by the bridle. He saw what Valria was considering. Where the last ribs should have been, two short stumps protruded from the cracked soil. The edges of the cuts had not yet had time to darken, the bone seemed yellowish-white.

- Someone was here recently. - The girl sat down and carefully touched the cut with thin fingers, tightened into the thick leather of the glove. - A loner or a small detachment like ours, otherwise they would have taken everything away. Dragonbone is valued...

- Or someone scared them off, - Dallan put in. The sergeant remained in the saddle, ready to shield her comrades from any threat.

- Yes, or someone scared. - The elf straightened up. Her voice has already changed. - But mind you, there are no tools lying around. So they left without panic.

- Traces? - Carlon asked. Instead of answering, the girl hit the ground with her heel. She stepped back so that the barely noticeable dent, knocked out by the blow, became visible, ironically asked:

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- Here? If we stay until the evening, I'll find something, I promise.

Of course, they did not linger - on the contrary, they increased their pace. After the dead dragon, they came across a broken artillery battery - perhaps even the dragon died attacking it. Cannon carriages, baskets of earth and palisade stakes rotted away, now the battery was a long earthen rampart, from which in some places protruded bombards eaten by rust.

- Judging by where the guns are looking, we are going to the battlefield, - said Carlon.

- Do you know what kind of battle was here? - Valria moved her horse to a walk, took out a flask of water.

- I have no idea. I fought in the south.

- The Imperial Seventh Army, supported by two cavalry corps of the Duchy, has stopped the advance of the army of the Royal Marshal de Abrozzi, - Dallan announced unexpectedly. - With the marshal were the king's plate cavalry, mercenary infantry from both republics, and a dozen dragonriders. Probably the one we saw is one of them.

- Do you remember the battle plan? - the elf girl clarified, pretending that she did not enjoy Carlon's surprise at all, but simply unscrewed the tight cap.

- No, I'm sorry.

- Then we don’t know how wide the dead field is. - After drinking a couple of sips, Valria put away her flask, adjusted the quiver at her belt. - One more detour and we won’t reach the fort before dusk. We're going straight. Scientist man, what do you think?

- In ten years, there are hardly corpse-eaters out there. - Carlon scratched his head. - Spirits, ghosts, petty demons won't appear in daylight. My opinion is that the risk is justified.

- Here you go. - The elf touched the brim of her hat with a smile. - Now if something happens, it’s not all my fault. We can keep going.

A sure sign that a battle had once taken place in these parts was not the bones of fallen warriors, not scattered shields, helmets, fragments of armor, broken swords and spears, arrows sticking out of the ground. No, ten years later, the remains of the battle were mostly traces of excavations. Even here, in the neutral zone, those wishing to profit from the property of the dead penetrated. Some of the rectangular pits dug by the marauders had collapsed, others looked quite fresh.

- You know ... - Carlon said slowly, looking around. - I take back my words. Corpse-eaters can still be found here. They have something to eat.

- Yeah. - Valria didn't even let out a taunt about it. She drew back her infantry crossbow, unfastened both quiver-bags at her hips. Taking a large crossbow in her hands, she put the repeating crossbow on her knees and now controlled the horse with her legs.

The company probably reached the middle of the dead field, when something flashed on their right in the thickets of thorns. Despite the risk, the captain deviated from the direct path, wishing to know what it was. It turned out that the trunk of an arquebus lying on the ground was shining. There were no other traces of a person nearby - just a gun on the ground, that's all.

- Not rusty, - Carlon frowned.

The elf leaned out of the saddle, deftly picked up the arquebus, miraculously not losing her hat, and handed the trophy to her partner. She sniffed the section of the barrel, examined the matchlock, the gun stock. Ran a verdict:

- They shot from it. Not later than at night. There is a drop of blood on the butt. Haven't been able to reload.

- We can’t help the owner of this thing, - Valria sighed. - Company, in battle order.

The detachment formed a wedge. Dallan was now leading the group, the mage and the elf moving behind her, keeping an eye on the flanks. The far part of the dead field was overgrown with bushes so densely that it was necessary to let the horses through, despite their plaintive neighing. Valria was turning her head more and more anxiously, spinning her ears like her white horse. Finally, she raised her clenched fist.

- Stop!

When the detachment stopped, the girl pulled out an enchanted arrow with scarlet plumage from her quiver and put it into her crossbow. She said cheerfully, with a slight smile:

- They are here. They creep, but I hear them in the bushes. A few behind, the rest on the sides. Ahead is quiet, only stinks of rot.

- They are leading us into an ambush, - Dallan nodded, removing a spear from her saddle pommel.

- Do you have a plan? - Carlon said it in such a way that Valria immediately understood that he was quite sure that she had no plan. Usually such a tone acted on the elf like a hole in a pentagram - on an imprisoned demon.

- Of course I have! - the girl pulled the cloak over her shoulder, stroked the bow of the crossbow. - We break through the right flank, go around the ambush and leave at a gallop. First I lead, then you, Dallan, and I cover. Carlon constantly stays in the center, helps according to circumstances.

- How exactly are we going to break through? - the master frowned.

- Like this. - The elf raised crossbow to her shoulder and pressed the trigger. An enchanted arrow flashed in the air in a red-gold stroke, hit somewhere in the bush a hundred paces from people. It rumbled, a sphere of dark crimson flame grew in the place of impact, burning dry branches flew in different directions.

- Forward! - Valria waved her hand. The sergeant promptly spurred the horse. Her tall warhorse, not noticing the pain from hundreds of needles that dug into his legs, broke a path for the rest in the thorny thickets. The detachment rushed straight to the bald patch scorched by an arrow. At full gallop, Valria managed to hang an infantry crossbow from her saddle and pick up a multi-shot one. Two gray figures of human size darted across the riders. Carlon did not really consider them - one immediately capsized with an arrow in her head, the other tried to block the path of the column, and received a spear in the chest. An inept horseman would have been knocked to the ground by such a blow, because the spear was not created for mounted combat, but Valria's green-eyed friend did not even stagger in the saddle. The corpse-eater flew back into the bushes with a spear wedged between its ribs, a rider in silver armor rushed past, drawing her sword. Other hunters howled behind them, realizing that their prey had deceived them. Branches crackled - the flock rushed in pursuit. But the flames also crackled - the dry thorn burned perfectly, in many places where the smoldering pieces of bushes fell, small fires took place. It could be played with. Carlon removed the flask marked with the required letter from the sling, pulled off the cap, spat inside, plugged the neck and threw the vessel over his left shoulder. Ten seconds later, the flask exploded, creating a cloud of black smoke, impenetrable and terribly acrid. The cloud stretched out to the sides, creating a barrier a hundred steps wide and fifty steps deep.

The company escaped from the dead field, moved away from it, without slowing down the gait. The howling of the corpse-eaters and the crackling of the fire soon died down, but the smoke behind them grew more and more - the thicket provided enough fuel for a serious fire. The captain ordered a stop, but only to pull the thorns out of the horses' legs, wash their wounds with at least water - and drive on.

- At night they will try to find us, - Carlon warned, returning to the saddle. His bay stallion did not suffer much - all the spikes went to the sergeant's horse. - These creatures are vengeful.

- I don’t plan to go back the same way anyway, - Valria waved her hand away. A successful fight with monsters cheered up the girl, she even sang something - glory to the Creator, under her breath. - And they will lose track.

In confirmation of her words, the elf fished out a paper bundle from the saddle bag, tore it up and generously scattered some kind of powder on the ground - black, with red grains.

- Don't try to sniff, - she warned Carlon. - Lick - even more so.

- Leltord's Pepper? - the magician remembered. It was believed that the infernal mixture, which beats off the scent of not only dogs, but generally anyone up to dragons, was personally invented by the leader of the elven rebels of the last century.

- Almost, - Valria nodded, closing the bag tightly. - Home recipe.

In the next hour, the detachment several times slightly deviated from the intended path, and each time the elf launched a bag of "pepper". Only when the horses began to noticeably run out of steam did the travelers take a step, move straight towards the goal. The walls of the ruined fort rose on the horizon as the sun dipped low enough to cast long shadows on riders and dry tree trunks.

- Finally! - very pleased with herself, the elf took out a strip of hard dried horse meat on this occasion, bit off a piece of it. - Almost done. The rest is a business for twenty minutes. Came in and out. Get ready to fill your pockets with coins, Carlon.