“But in the name of the gods, what do you want there?” the baron exclaimed. “There are much easier ways to commit suicide.”
“Yes, Zagraba certainly has little to recommend it,” Alia Dalli agreed with him.
“Forgive me, my lady, but we are on a mission of state importance, and the fate of all the Northern Lands depends on it. That is all I can tell you, only your noble father may learn the rest. I trust that you will take us to him.”
“Of course,” Alia said with a nod. “The gates of our castle are always open to you and your companions, Milord Alistan. We are on our way there at the moment and will be glad to lead you to Mole Castle.”
“Then let us not delay, milady, we have a long journey ahead.”
“In a few hours we shall be in the Border Kingdom, and we shall reach the castle by tomorrow evening,” said Lady Alia, and put her helmet back on, once again becoming an anonymous knight. “Follow us, gentlemen.”
Our group set off again, together with the column of soldiers. Alistan and Miralissa joined Alia Dalli, and all the others tried to stick together. But Kli-Kli decided to have a bit of fun, since there was so much new company. Within an hour the ranks of soldiers were ringing with raucous laughter—the jester had finally found a place to display his talents.
Baron Oro Gabsbarg rode up at the front, just behind Alistan Markauz, who was talking to Lady Alia, and sometimes he cast curious glances in my direction. To be honest I must say that they got on my nerves a little. Sagot only knew what kind of man he really was: He seemed friendly and warm-hearted, but he might just turn round and chop your head off for no reason.
Eventually he couldn’t hold back anymore and he waited for me to draw level with him and asked:
“A thief, then?”
“Yes, milord.”
“Hmm … well, you certainly fooled me. This mission of Milord Rat’s … er, er … I meant to say Milord Alistan Markauz’s—”
“It’s the king’s project,” I lied, in order to make myself completely safe.
“Oh,” he said, and chewed on his mustache thoughtfully. “I’ve never had any thieves as friends before.”
Oro Gabsbarg pointed a finger at me. It was the size of a thick stick of sausage.
“I beg your pardon, if your honor has been offended, milord,” I replied, choosing my words carefully.
He flashed his small black eyes at me, suddenly broke into a smile, and slapped me heartily on the back. I almost went flying off Little Bee.
“All right!” the baron boomed amiably. “The most important thing is, you’re a good fellow. And it will give me something to boast about to my lady wife when I get back to Farahall.”
Did I already mention that the barons of the Borderland are rather strange people?
“But I do feel truly sorry for you … er … what’s your name again?”
“Harold, milord.”
“I feel truly sorry for you—wandering around in Zagraba is no fun.”
“I understand that.”
“Not very well, I think, otherwise you’d be traveling in the opposite direction. Perhaps Algert Dalli can persuade Milord Alistan to drop this plan of his.”
“What kind of man is he?”
“Hmmm?” the baron said, glancing at me. And then he told me anyway. He wasn’t embarrassed by talking to the lower classes, and he liked to chat, all he needed was a willing listener.
“Made of stone, not a man at all. Algert Dalli is a bulwark of the throne, the keeper of the Western Border of the Kingdom. The soldiers have dubbed him Kind Heart as a joke. In battle he flies into such a furious rage that he lays out everyone, right and left, and in the kindness of his heart he doesn’t even notice that he’s not leaving enemies for his soldiers. He finishes them all off himself—a born warrior. But he does have one little oddity—he’s crazy about knives…”
I looked at the baron in surprise.
“Well, they say that he always carries some sharp piece of metal around with him. He’s always holding the knife in his hand, he eats with it, sleeps with it, takes it with him into his bath and when he goes to a woman. But these are all trifles, eh, thief? Everyone has his little quirks.”
“Indeed so, milord. And what about his daughter?”
“Lady Alia? She commands the garrison at Mole Castle. Her daddy’s right hand. A fine girl, plenty of spirit, but shaving her head … I reckon that’s just sacrilege … Milord Algert sent her to Farahall with some soldiers. Remember, we were talking about it at the count’s reception? Milord Algert has promised what Balistan Pargaid wouldn’t give me, and that’s why I’m riding with them now, taking twenty of my own men to Mole Castle, it’s not far.… All right, I’m talking too much. We’ll meet again, thief!”
“Most definitely, Your Grace, most definitely.”
That evening we were in the Border Kingdom. We knew that from the pillar of black basalt standing by the side of the road.
The undulating plain was behind us now and the coniferous forests began, alternating with wide open expanses. The road wound between the fir trees, and the detachment spread out along it in a long column. Along the way we passed two wooden fortresses with tall stockades and watch towers. We stopped for the night out in the open, when it was almost completely dark.
We laid out the camp in an hour. A large number of campfires sprang to life and food started bubbling in the cooking pots. A dozen soldiers made a successful raid on the forest and captured firewood and long young tree trunks, from which they made an enclosure for the horses.
There was a small river flowing nearby, so we had plenty of water. Lady Alia’s men put up a large tent and the elves, the baron, and Alistan were invited into it. High social standing does have some things to recommend it, after all—you can spend the night with all the comforts. Tired out after his long day, Kli-Kli slumped onto my blanket and fell sound asleep on the spot. I had to pass the night on my cloak, but that didn’t really cause me any great discomfort.
It was very warm, and if not for the ubiquitous mosquitoes, I could say with a clear conscience that it was one of the best nights I’d spent out in the open during the whole of our trip from Avendoom. As I fell asleep, I realized what I had been missing all that time—a feeling of security. When you have more than a hundred armed soldiers around you, you feel as safe as if you were surrounded by a stone wall.
The next morning Lady Alia Dalli drove the detachment hard, intending to reach her father’s castle before the evening. We moved at a good pace, and I was at the front of the column, right behind the nobles, arms-bearers, standard-bearers, and personal guards, so I didn’t get too much of the dust raised by the horses’ hooves up my nose, unlike the soldiers riding farther back. The heavy rainfall that had fallen in the Borderland seemed not to have touched this region at all. The road that we followed was dry and dusty.
After a few hours of riding, immediately after yet another argument between Hallas and Deler, this time over a small sour apple, a sergeant came riding up to Lady Alia from the rear of the column. I was close by and so I heard the entire conversation.
“Milady, the scouts have spotted horsemen.”
“How many?”
“Twenty or so. They’re right behind us, they’ll be here in a few minutes. They have no banners, but they’re not our men.”
“We’ll wait for them,” said the girl. “We have to find out who the darkness has set on our trail.”
“They’re following us, milady,” said Miralissa. “These men have been following our group ever since Ranneng.”
“Enemies?”
“To us, yes.”
“Then they are to me, too,” the girl said with a nod. “Dron, tell the men to be ready for action.”
“I don’t think they will attack us, milady. The numbers are too uneven,” Egrassa said slowly.
“We shall see.”
Twenty men? On the other side of the Iselina there were twenty-eight of them—if Miralissa is right and they really are Balistan Pargaid’s men. Where have the others got to?
