Chapter 4

The temptation to take the prisoner with them was great, but to carry him across the rump of one of the horses would only slow the bailiffs down. So they tied him tightly to a tree, gagged him, and built a new fire nearby.

- Pray for our health,- Armando said to the thug as he tightened the last knot. - If we live, we'll come back for you before you die. If we die, don't be sorry. No one else knows you're out here. And don't worry, we ain't seen no wolves around here in a long time.

He and Gotech checked their equipment as they rode past the camp. The royal servants were not going to fight when they left the capital, and they had taken few weapons with them. Both had light crossbows. Ardano had a short-handled axe attached to his saddle, and de Horatso had his grandfather's broad sword hanging from his belt. His father's much more decent sword was left rusting somewhere on the fields of the last war, next to his father's bones. The bailiffs replaced their armor with sturdy leather jackets lined with fur, their helmets with ordinary warm hats. However, even full knight's armor would hardly help them against half a dozen thugs. Armando knew where to look for the other killers, thanks to the long tongue of the overtired prisoner, but the young official had no idea what he would do with them when he found them.

- The best thing would be to meet the Queen's retinue and warn her, - he said to Gotech, who was riding beside him. - But as it happens, the ambush is in a specific place, and the hunters will be moving all over the forest... Even if we hear the horns of the hunters, we won't know where Octavia is.

- The traitor will have to lead Her Majesty to the assassins anyway, - said the giant, as calm as ever. There was no trace of the brief confusion that had possessed him recently. - If we find the ambush, we'll find the queen.

- Yes, - Armando nodded, more to himself than to his comrade. - And then we'll see.

They could not gallop, and not only because of Gotyeh's horse. Trying to gallop down a forest path was a far more certain death than fighting a band of mercenaries. The only question was what would happen first - whether you would meet a deep ravine behind an unexpected turn or a sharp branch at the level of your face. They had to ride at a quick pace, sometimes at a trot. The sun was rising higher and higher, peeking out from behind the tops of the bare trees, and Armando's anxiety was growing. The young bailiff fidgeted in his saddle, glancing back and forth, biting his lip. After checking everything he could in his equipment, tightening every strap, he suddenly muttered under his breath:

- It's a pity we don't have Vittoria with us. Her dead birds would have scouted and delivered the message in no time. She's not much of a rider, though. She's a city girl.

Gotech grinned, but said nothing. Soon the riders were past the old clearing separating the simple forest from the crown forest and into the hunting grounds of the royal family. After another quarter of an hour, Ardano pointed to hoofprints in the thin snow:

- Look at that. Fresh.

- And they lead in the right direction - de Gorazzo nodded. - Can you estimate how many men have passed?

- More than a dozen for sure. - Gotech turned his horse to follow the trail. - The bastard didn't fool us.

The snow was not yet solid, but there were patches of dark earth and wet leaves. The farther away from the clearing, the deeper into the forest, the more there were. The leaves kept the prints of horseshoes much worse than snow. At one point the bailiffs dismounted to get a better view of the tracks, and then Armando threw his horse's bridle over a convenient bough.

- I'm guessing we're close. We go quietly from here.

- You know I'm a master of stealth, - Gotech grinned, jumping down from his saddle. De Gorazzo felt the ground shake with a slight thud.

- That's why you keep twenty paces behind. Don't lose sight of me, but don't get too close.

Armando, with crossbow at the ready, crept from bush to bush, his companion following as smoothly as he could, crouching low. Suddenly de Gorazzo heard a low horse snorting ahead. He gestured to Gotech to stop, and continued on his own half-crouched, keeping his head below the dry bushes. Fifty paces later he came to a deep hollow at the base of a wooded hill, where a small herd of horses was crowded together. The horses were being tended by a bored mercenary. He chewed on a straw and stared at the top of the hill with a dazed stare. Tucked behind the sprawling roots of an old oak, Armando waited a moment, looking around. Everything indicated that the mercenary was alone here. The royal bailiff took the captured crossbow off his shoulder and put it beside him in case he missed the first shot. He took careful aim with his own weapon and held his breath. He pulled down the bowstring. The arrow struck the mercenary in the back of the head, and he slumped to the ground without a sound. The slam of the bowstring seemed like a thunderclap, and the horses that saw the corpse became agitated, but the noise attracted no one's attention. Armando went back a little way, waving his hand to Gotech. The two of them dragged the dead man away, and the herd, sheltered in a hollow, quieted down at once.

- Where to now? - The black-skinned giant asked in a businesslike tone. He seemed to like what was happening much better than Armando. Not surprising, considering that Gotech had once been a soldier.

- Up.

The top of the hill was practically bald, and the bailiffs crept up it, so as not to give themselves away early. Finding shelter again near the roots of a dead tree crowning the hill, de Gorazzo propped himself up on his elbows and looked down. As he had expected, the opposite slope also ended in a long, deep hollow. Only this one was not occupied by horses... The dark jackets of the mercenaries blended with the damp fallen leaves covered with snow. But the bailiff did not need to count the killers, he already knew how many there were - exactly fifteen. The thugs were crouched at the edge of the hollow, each holding a loaded crossbow.

- Why are they downstairs and not here? - The bailiff asked in a whisper. - The view is better from here.

- Even two of us can be seen from a distance, not like such a crowd, - said Gotech, who was also looking at the mercenaries. - And they'll bring the victim right to them anyway, so why the view? The bastard said they'd fire a volley at point-blank range, and then go into the melee.

- Can we shoot them in the back from here, do you think? - Armando frowned. Here they were, and still no plan. No good improvisations came to mind.

- No chance. Even with four crossbows. The slope's not that steep. Once they figure out where the arrows are coming from, they'll come up and slaughter us.

- Then maybe...

Armando hesitated. The sound of a hunting horn came from far away. One on the right, one on the left. And a third closer. The last horn sounded especially clear and resounding.

- Hunters. - De Gorazzo picked up a handful of wet leaves from the ground and clenched them in his fist. - And the third...

- Her Majesty... - Gotech exhaled.

The hunters came into view suddenly, spilling out from behind the trees. It was easy to recognize the young queen among them. Octavia the Ninth rode just behind the huntsman, standing in the stirrups and holding a thick spear in one hand. Of course, on the hunt, the girl did not dress in her famous armor - instead of plate, she wore a black and gold men's suit, tightly fitting slender figure. The queen's head was covered only by a small triangular cap with a feather, and her loose hair, the color of a crow's wing, fell in heavy waves over her shoulders. "And she's even more beautiful than I remember..." - Armando thought out of place. The hunters, meanwhile, were moving straight toward the ambush, apparently going around the hill.

- What are we doing? There's no time. - Gotech looked at his comrade with a sidelong glance. Armando's eyes darted from the mercenaries below to the hunters in front of them. The decision came in a flash, like an epiphany. The assassins planned to shoot only at point-blank range? Well... The young bailiff placed his crossbow on a comfortable bend in a dry root, took aim. Swallowing, he offered a short prayer to the heavens and fired. Two perfect shots in a single day was an incredible stroke of luck for a less than perfect marksman, but de Gorazzo had succeeded. It was hard to believe that the Creator had responded and guided the bailiff's hand. The arrow he fired struck the belly of the traitor huntsman, who was riding at the head of the hunters. Armando was aiming for the chest, but it was good enough. The huntsman collapsed and began to fall from the saddle. The young queen sharply laid down her horse, and her companions immediately found themselves beside her, took her in a ring and covered her with themselves. And in the hollow below the hill there was some confusion - the mercenaries definitely thought that one of their own had fired before the time. The confusion, unfortunately, lasted only moments. Octavia's escort had no sooner turned back than the assassins fired a volley. Distance and not the most convenient position did their job - the mercenaries had to aim at the horses. Three enchanted arrows struck the ground in front of the riders, sending fountains of earth, fire, and smoke into the sky. When the veil dissipated, Armando saw horses thrashing in agony and men lying motionless on the ground. A few horses with empty saddles were rushing away, sounding a frightened roar through the crown forest. None of the hunters remained in the saddle. But a lone figure in black rose to his feet. Queen Octavia, who had lost her cap but appeared to be completely unharmed, stood up, staggered slightly, drew her sword in a decisive movement... and immediately disappeared behind the guards. De Gorazzo counted seven - most of the arrows had indeed gone to the horses.

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- R-r-r-r-ra-a-a-a-arg! - The mercenaries did not reload their crossbows. They knew that the main part of the royal retinue would be here soon, and time was running out for them. With swords, spears, and axes, the assassins swept over the edge of the hollow and charged at Octavia's escort, cheering themselves with fierce yells.

- And what are we now? - No longer fearing to be seen, Gotech straightened up, shook off his pants.

- What do you mean, what? - Armando, to his own surprise, was seized with excitement. If they're going to do the job, they're going to do it to the end. - Their backs are before us. Let's go!

They ran down the slope, drawing their weapons as they went. The mercenary squad clashed with the queen's bodyguards, and almost immediately two shrieking royal bailiffs slammed into their rear. De Gorazzo saw his friend use a hook to grab the neck of one of the assassins, jerk open his throat, and then the young official had no more time for that. The queen's guards could not hold the formation, their thin line crumbling under the onslaught of the enemy. The fight immediately turned into a chaotic massacre among the trees, with one fighting two, two fighting three, clusters of fighting men bumping into each other, and fighters switching sides. Armando jabbed the point of his sword into the back of a man's neck, chopped another man's hand, fended off a weak blow from an axe, shoved a mercenary with his shoulder, ducked under the swing of a sword, tripped over a man's foot, fell face down, and jumped up in a hurry.

And he saw Queen Octavia right in front of him. The black-haired girl stood with her back against a broad oak tree, skillfully fighting off three assassins with her sword. There were no bodyguards nearby, and a trickle of blood was running down the queen's forehead, pouring into one eye, so Armando didn't hesitate for even a second. Emitting a cat screech instead of a battle cry, the bailiff sprang at one of Octavia's opponents, sliced him in the knees from behind, and attacked the other. The mercenary turned, took the blow to the hilt of his sword, and deftly kicked de Gorazzo in the shin. Armando yelped, fell on his side, and pressed his own sword against his body... and the young queen, pushing her elbows off the tree, sprang forward. With two swift lunges, she slashed the assassin's right wrist and belly, and turned on her heels toward the last remaining enemy. He, armed with a light infantry spear, put all his strength into a swift jab - Octavia did not have time to defend herself, the tip slid along her ribs, cutting the black fabric of her winter jacket. The girl pressed the spear against her side with her elbow, grabbed the shaft with her free hand, and with a single swing of her sword finished the spearman before he could release his weapon and retreat.

- Your Majesty... I... - Armando managed to get up and simply clapped his palm on the steel rod on his belt. Octavia the Ninth nodded briefly:

- Stay close, Don.

However, the battle had already come to an end. Horns sang on all sides, shadows of riders flickered among the trees. The lagging part of the retinue arrived just in time to stamp the last of the assassins into the mud and snow. The three cavalrymen rode straight toward the queen. She met them with a commanding shout:

- Take a prisoner! At least one alive!

Turning to Armando again, she smiled weakly:

- I will certainly ask who you are and how you came to be here, but a little later, don. I'm sorry, I'll leave you alone for a while.

With a bloody sword in her hand, the black-haired girl went to the place where the thick of the battle had been recently, shouting commands in a voice that was not the least bit hoarse. As if she hadn't just fought three enemies at once. De Gorazzo swallowed, took a breath. He looked for Gotech, and was relieved to find him alive and well. The black-skinned giant was saying something to the horsemen around him, shaking his bailiff's staff....

...The two surrendered mercenaries were taken away in slings, the wounded were bandaged and laid near the hastily made fire, waiting for the healer. The young queen personally took care of the mare, who was lying with its legs broken by the explosion. Finally, the guards, whose numbers were growing by leaps and bounds, surrounded the recent battlefield in a tight ring. Octavia the Ninth, disheveled, covered in snow and earth, only just wiped the blood from her face, but paradoxically even more beautiful because of this, sank down tiredly on a folding chair given by a servant. She gestured to the two bailiffs to sit in the same chair. She rested her sword blade on the ground, folded her palms in thin black gloves on the hilt. Without ceremony, she asked:

- Tell me, gentlemen bailiffs. Who you are, what you're doing here and what you know about what happened.

- And you... you are not wounded, Your Majesty? - De Gorazzo was belatedly concerned. He still could not believe that everything had worked out - the assassination attempt had been foiled, they were alive and talking to the queen herself.

- Thank you for your concern, Don. - The girl with a shadow of a smile on her lips stretched with two fingers the gash in her jacket left by the assassin's spear. Metal gleamed. - I always wear chainmail under my clothes when I'm not wearing my armor. Now you may begin.

And Armando began. Gotech only nodded and occasionally added a terse clarification; de Horatso did most of the talking. He told it like it was. He had lied only a little, saying that they had bribed the baron to cover their true intentions, to return and raise the alarm. It seemed to him that a merry light flashed in Octavia's shrewd blue eyes as she listened to this part of the story, but Her Majesty did not interrupt Armando, nor did she express her disbelief aloud.

-...and here we are, before you, my Queen, - the young bailiff finished.

The queen was silent, stroking the "apple" on the hilt of her sword with her fingertips. She turned to one of her companions:

- Count de Eltaro, take a hundred mounted men and visit Baron de Montore. Bring him and his nephew to me, and take the rest of the castle dwellers into custody. Act quickly and suddenly, we don't need a siege.

- I obey, Your Majesty. - The Count made a short bow and ran to his horse.

- And you, noble dons... - the girl in black stood up, and the bailiffs also immediately rose to their feet. - ...you have done well. I am glad to know that among my bailiffs are so loyal, brave and skillful. It's a shame I only learned your names now. I need men I can rely on.

- We are servants of the crown, Your Majesty! - Armando exclaimed fervently, almost without acting. - It is our duty to serve you.

- That is what everyone says, Don, - the queen shook her head. - And many separate me and the crown... But today you have proved your loyalty by deed.

She unhooked from her belt a crooked hunting knife in a simple black sheath, decorated only with gold embossing, and handed it to de Gorazzo:

- This is but a token of my appreciation, Don Armando. May it remind you of today. And that I remember you too.

- Thank you, Your... - Armando realized that he seemed to be in love.

- I will thank you, Don Ardano, in another way. - Octavia turned to the black-skinned giant and looked him in the face from bottom to top. - As of today, you are Don de Ardano. I approve your personal nobility as inherited. I will order all the paperwork to be done as soon as I return to the palace. - She suddenly smiled a mischievous girlish smile, and Armando remembered that the queen was only nineteen. - Do your best not to let your lineage end with you, Don. I would have your descendants serve my grandchildren with the same zeal.

- So they will, Your Majesty... - Gotech hesitated and, seeing that the queen was about to leave, blurted out: - May I ask for help in a personal matter?

- Yes, Don?

- You see, there is a girl who... - the big man continued, and de Gorazzo covered his face with the palm of his hand, not knowing whether to burn with shame or just be happy for his friend. Armando had no doubt that the queen would fulfill the giant's request.....

* * *

- So there's no idea what this thing was doing before it burned up? - Armando chuckled, rubbing his chin.

- Moreover, Don, I don't even have any idea what this thing was made of, - the forensic mage shook his head. - Even a metal of unknown nature, much less any other material...

On the table in front of the crown officials, boxes of various sizes were laid out in a row-one could hold the contents of a swag bag, while the others could barely hold a bar of soap. The boxes were blackened by the fire, and their metal frames were covered with a strange, hardened sweat, like wax.

- A servant at the Castel de Montore heard Don Mario de Luigi refer to these boxes as 'radio stations' in a conversation with the baron, - Armando remarked.

- Which gives us nothing," the magician sighed. - The meaning of the word is unknown to me or my colleagues at the University. The archivist is looking for it in books, but I'm willing to bet he won't find anything.

- You can't ask the Baron and de Luigi to explain, - de Gorazzo grimaced.

No one could explain how the conspiring baron's castle had learned of the failed ambush, but the fact remained. When Queen Octavia's detachment arrived at the Montore estate, Baron Calisto was hanging in a noose from the ceiling of his room. And the outhouse in which his "nephew" dwelt was aflame. De Luigi himself as in water vanished - even the castle servants could not remember when he left the castle. However, the fire was extinguished quite quickly, and in the room of the baron's "nephew" soldiers of the Queen found a lot of things of unknown purpose, made of unknown materials. Some of them had suffered more from the fire, some less - but all of them did not show a single bit of magic. So the strange items were taken to the cellars of the Hall of Justice, where anyone who wished could try to unravel their mystery.

- Are the other clues here too? - Armando asked.

- In two steel containers by that wall. - The forensic magician pointed a finger at the gray metal doors embedded in the stone. - I and the guard have the key. Would you like to see it?

- Not today, maester. Later.

Leaving the mage to work on the charred wreckage, the bailiff stepped out into the corridor, half-dark, damp, and cold, as a corridor in an old dungeon should be. De Gorazzo noted, however, that the air in the catacombs was even more dank than usual. He carefully closed the door behind him, turned around... and almost nose to nose with a complete stranger standing in the middle of the corridor. The girl, the same age as Donna Vittoria, looked more like Queen Octavia - tall, well-built, black-haired. Except that her hair was cut short, framing a beautiful swarthy face. The girl was dressed in a blue uniform with white embroidery, soft brown boots up to mid-thigh, and light silver armor - a cuirass with shoulder pads, gauntlets with elbow cuffs. For a good half a minute the bailiff and the stranger stared at each other silently. Finally, Armando realized with horror that the girl's figure was shining through - he could vaguely distinguish the masonry behind her back. Noticing how the bailiff's eyes widened with fright, the swarthy stranger smiled guiltily, retreated a step - and with her the dampness and cold retreated. The underground corridor became distinctly warmer. The girl put her palm to her chest, tilted her head slightly, as if apologizing, and... began to melt into the air. In a couple of seconds she turned into a black shadow with blurred outlines. Only the yellow lynx eyes burned with two golden lights where her face had been. Then they disappeared, too.

Armando was alone. His first encounter with a real ghost had ended in a surprisingly peaceful manner.

- I'll go home later, - de Gorazzo said through a spasm in his throat. - Now to Vittoria's. Urgently.

The royal bailiff headed for the exit from the dungeons almost at a run, glancing over his shoulder....