Chapter 3
In the days of Ancient Daerth, road building was the job of the imperial legions, the same legions that had conquered the continent from the northern seas to the deserts in the south with steel and blood. The roads were always laid out along the shortest route, straight as a ballista arrow. And like a ballista arrow, they crushed any obstacle in their path. If there was a hill in the way of a road under construction, they tore it down. If there was a mountain, they tunneled through it. If there was a swamp, they drained it. Forests were cut down, white stone bridges were thrown over rivers and chasms.
After the collapse of the Western Empire, trade routes and the paths of armies changed. Some of the imperial roads were abandoned, and lonely travelers, merchant wagons, pious pilgrims, and columns of soldiers stretched through some untraveled places. Thus new tracts were born - as if by themselves. Unlike the roads of the Great Daert, these ones looped powerlessly through deep forests, mountain ranges, and dense swamps. No wonder travelers going light, unburdened by cumbersome wagons, often preferred to cut the loops of the path straight through the groves and hills. Any experienced traveler knew the narrow paths, impassable for a large group or a cart, but greatly shortening the trip for a rider.
The comfortable journey from Daert to Castel de Montore, with rests in roadside inns, took Armando and Gotech three days. The return journey promised to take only two days. Only one overnight stay, but in the open air, without tents, in the bitter cold.
When, after midnight, five dark silhouettes appeared at the edge of the bailiffs' camp, the fire was already out. In the moonlight near the fire the figures of two men wrapped in blankets, one smaller, the other larger, were visible. The horses, tethered to the bushes, smelled the intruders and snorted alarmingly. But the sleepers did not move. One of the dark silhouettes gestured a command, and two of his companions raised their weapons. Crossbows clanged, and an arrow struck each of the sleepers. The crossbowmen began to reload their weapons, and three of their companions stalked toward the fire, obviously to make sure that the campmasters were dead. The one who had given the command to the gunners went first. He drew his narrow stiletto, quickened his step... and then he gave a wild shriek, dropping the blade. He jumped on one foot, grabbing the other, trying to pull something out of his foot. Shots rang out again as the crossbowmen of the attackers fell to the ground. Two piles of dry leaves away from the fire seemed to explode from within. Dropping their empty crossbows, Gotech and Armando, who had been hiding under the foliage, charged at the confused night guests. The black-skinned giant crushed the skull of the nearest foe with a single blow of his steel rod, Don de Gorazzo crossed his sword with the blade of another. His opponent was a skilled swordsman, but he held only a dagger. Defensively, he backed away. Suddenly he too cried out, stepping on something sharp. Armando didn't miss his chance; he intercepted the dagger in his hand and drove the point of his sword under the man's throat.
In the meantime, the leader of the assassins had pulled what was lodged in his foot, assessed the situation soberly, and tried to run away, limping badly. Gotech threw his staff after him. The heavy steel rod, topped with a massive crest, struck the villain between the shoulder blades. He collapsed to the ground, writhing, unable to get up immediately. Armando, looking carefully under his feet, approached the defeated enemy, kicked him in the temple. Sitting down beside him, he turned over the collapsed body, took off his waist belt, and began to skillfully tighten the prisoner's hands behind his back. He said, grinning with the corner of his mouth:
- I hate and adore these military inventions of yours, Gotech. First digging a hole in the frozen ground, then sleeping under leaves in this cold... My nose is already running and all my joints ache.
- You are not an old man, you will recover. - Gotech kicked the "doll" that represented him by the fire, shook his head at the hole left in the blanket by a crossbow arrow. He began to gather something around the bed. Armando, who had finished swaddling the prisoner, also picked up a small item from the ground. A little "hedgehog" made of several iron nails chained together. Both ends of the nails were sharpened, so that no matter how you threw the "hedgehog" on the ground, the points would stick up.
- Nasty thing, - said the young bailiff. - I like it.
- Actually, hedgehogs are for cavalry, - Gotech took the dangerous toy and his staff from him. He wiped the blood from the rod on the prisoner's jacket. - We used them in the war against Elvartian raiders and Imperial Clibanarians. Scatter them in front of the infantry and watch the horses go crazy, throwing the riders off. But if a man steps on it, it can pierce the sole of a boot. Especially a bad one. How's our new friend?
- He ain't gonna die. Do you recognize him? - de Gorazzo lifted the head of his bound enemy by the hair.
- Yeah. He's one of the ones that used to hang out in the kitchen at the baron's castle. And the other one, too. I don't recognize the other three. Maybe I just don't remember.
- Are we expecting anyone else?
- I don't think so.
- Then let's build a fire before I freeze to death.
The servants of the law spent the rest of the night by the fire, warming tea in a cauldron and keeping their crossbows - their own and the trophy ones - loaded. No one disturbed them, and at first light the captured mercenary showed signs of life. The bailiffs immediately put him under a tree and hastened his awakening with a couple of slaps.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
- It's not a good morning for you, but don't be discouraged - whether it gets worse depends only on your actions, - Armando told the captive with a broad smile. He deliberately stood so that the prisoner could see the stacked corpses of his comrades. - First of all, what is your name?
- Go to the demons, you bastard, - the mercenary snapped, testing the strength of the bindings on his arms.
- As you wish. - De Gorazzo yawned. - I don't really care about your name. Tell me who sent you. We could have guessed it ourselves, but we'd like to know for sure.
- Fuck you... - the prisoner choked when Gotech kicked him half-heartedly in the stomach.
- Look, I don't want to prolong this, - Armando said to his friend. - 'He's obviously stubborn. Shall we go?
- Let's do it.
They hoisted the prisoner under his arms and dragged him to a fallen tree trunk. They lay him on his belly on the trunk. Armando cut the mercenary's pants with a trophy stiletto, pulled them down to his knees along with his underpants.
- What are you... what is it? - The prisoner asked warily.
- We're changing your profession, - Armando replied confidentially, sitting down on the cold ground in front of the prisoner. - To a safer and better-paid one.
Gotech approached the mercenary from behind, bent down and with his hook, which replaced his left hand, hooked something between the poor man's legs. He shrieked in an unmanly way.
- I only stuck the point in, - the giant muttered. - I don't even see any blood yet.
- Don't you move, it will be worse! - de Horatso pressed his palms against the man's shoulders. - And look, we haven't started yet, and you're already doing it. Don't worry, we won't kill you. You'll go to Iolia, there's always a shortage of falsettos at the opera. They pay well.
- A-a-a-a-a-ah! - the mercenary shouted when Gotech moved his wrist.
- It's a little deeper, - the big man reported. - I see blood.
- I'll... tell you! - Tears streamed down the mercenary's face. Armando, who had expected more courage from his night guest, sighed in ostentatious disappointment. - I'll tell you everything! Ask me!
- Did the Baron send you? To kill us because we've seen too much? - The young bailiff made himself comfortable, though his ass was already starting to lose sensitivity from the cold. But in front of the interrogator's eyes, it was necessary to look confident and carefree.
- Yes!
- Why not right away?
- Not everyone in the castle knows... it was necessary to keep a low profile. And then we didn't find you on the road, we had to go back, follow the tracks from the castle...
- There were only five of you here?
- Yes.
- And all of you? You have a squad, don't you?
- Twenty-one.
- Where are the others? - Armando glanced at Gotyeh to move his hand again, because the "client" was beginning to calm down.
- Ouch! On the main mission. We couldn't wait. Them to the main mission, the five of us to follow you.
- What's the main mission?
- I don't know.
- Gotech, put some pressure on it.
- Ouch! Aaaaaaah! The main task is.... to kill Queen Octavia!
The bailiffs looked at each other dumbfounded. They were expecting anything but this. But Gotech shook his fist, urging his friend to pull himself together, and Armando quickly shook the look of confusion from his face. He bellowed:
- We knew! But why would the Baron kill the Queen?
- I don't know... It wasn't him... He just provided the base. It was his nephew, Don de Luigi. He's not really his nephew...
- We knew! But who?
- I don't know. An emissary or an intermediary.
- When exactly will the assassination attempt take place?
- Tomorrow... I mean, today. I don't know exactly. Nobody knows. It depends. In the afternoon.
- What do you mean? - De Gorazzo grabbed the prisoner by the ear. - How will the assassination attempt be organized? How, exactly?
- The Queen has been out hunting since morning. In the royal forest near Daert. We were told a gamekeeper we'd bought would lead her to an ambush. They showed us how to set up the ambush after the guards have checked the forest and the huntsmen have passed. They gave us amulets so the mages wouldn't notice.
- What kind of ambush?
- Ambush... ambush with crossbows. There are three enchanted arrows for fire. The rest are regular. The gamekeeper will lead the queen quickly, the retinue will fall behind, there'll be fewer close guards than us. We'll fire a volley at point-blank range, and if that doesn't work, we'll finish them off in hand-to-hand combat.
- How'd the main force get there? Describe the route.
With a slurred tongue, the mercenary laid out the information they needed. Armando rose with a sigh:
- Gotech, pull up his pants.
The bailiffs moved farther away so that the exhausted prisoner could not hear them. Glancing sideways at the log on which the failed falsetto had collapsed, Ardano muttered:
- We're in trouble. It's true. The queen doesn't like entertainment, but she does go hunting sometimes, they say, to keep in shape and take a break from the palace. She takes very few people with her.
- Yes, - De Gorazzo sighed. He felt little better than the mercenary left on the log. - What are we going to do?
- Do we have a choice? - Gotech raised his eyebrows. - We go to the city, report to the Count.
- By the time we get to the capital, by the time we report, by the time they check the information, by the time they send for the queen, by the time they find her in the forest... - Armando bit his lip. - It would all be over long ago.
- Well... no matter how it ends, it won't be our fault. We did what we could. - The big man shrugged.
- Yeah, but did we do everything? What if the ambush succeeds?
- It wouldn't be our fault anyway.
- Yeah, only... who do you think organized all this?
- The Duke de Veronni, to a fool's eye. He's next in line to the throne.
- Exactly. - The young bailiff slammed his palm on his hand. - The queen dies, de Veronny becomes king... How long do you think you and I will live after that?
- Damn it. - Gotech grinned angrily and slammed his fist on his forehead.
- And then... - Armando paced back and forth, kicking piles of leaves and clumps of snow. With a slightly bewildered smile, he splayed his hands. - You know I like Queen Octavia. More than the Duke, and in general... She's young, beautiful, and she's ruling the country well so far.
- So that's your criteria for a good ruler? - smirked the giant. - Young and beautiful?
Armando closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the slender black-haired girl who had listened to his oath of office with a serious face and a smile in her eyes. He nodded:
- Criteria as good as any, just so you know.
- So...
- Since our guest gave away the ambush position, we're going straight to the royal forest. To save Her Majesty. I don't know how, really. We'll figure it out on the way. Do you mind?
- Not at all. - Still grinning, Gotech rubbed his chin with fingers as thick as wieners. - "Queen's savior" - that'll sound great when I come to match. And if the queen agrees to attend the wedding... Let's go, my friend. Now.