Chapter 10

Chapter 10

They crossed the river late at night, downstream from the king's camp. Jeanne and Marius wielded poles to guide the small raft, while Rosa held a pair of tightly rolled bales to keep the contents from getting wet. When the women had disembarked in the reeds on the other bank, the young knight caught Rosa's hand and said, looking into her eyes:

- If you're not in the right place by the agreed hour, Toad and I will follow you. I don't care what Donna Vittoria says.

- Don't do anything foolish, milord. - She knew Marius well enough to believe that he would do just that. She covered his hand with her own. - If Jeanne and I are caught, it won't help. You'll die for nothing.

- Well, don't give me an excuse, signora. - The moon peeked out from behind a cloud, and Rosa saw that the young man was smiling. - Take care of yourself.

After handing the bales to Jeanne, the knight pushed off the shore with his pole and disappeared into the night. Rose took one bale from the maid, unwrapped it, and shook out its contents, a nun's robe. The white cloak was a spacious white hooded cloak, embroidered with the symbols of the Creator in black thread. Jeanne had received the same one. Rosa's cloak was wrapped in a travelling bag on a long strap. The women wear their cloaks over their usual costumes, the sorceress hung the bag on her shoulder and put on long white gloves, the sign of a healer. A couple of minutes later, two travelling nuns emerged from the coastal thickets. A young medicine woman with round spectacles and her taller friend. Together they walked northwards. The lights of the military camp were barely visible on the horizon, the only light coming from the moon and stars peering at the earth through the gaps in the clouds. There was a clammy, unsettling silence. Rosa felt like jumping up and down with excitement, and to distract herself she began to recall her last conversation with her mentor. Vittoria had invited them to her tent just before sunset for some final instructions.

- The prisoner seems to have arrived at Auguste's army, - she said as Luca pulled back the canopy behind them. - He will probably be housed somewhere out of the way, so as not to attract attention. There will be few guards, for the same reason.

- But how do we find the right place in a huge camp? - Rosa asked.

- We'll walk around the outskirts and look in suspicious tents, - Jeanne suggested in a completely serious tone. - Maybe we can search five or six before everyone freaks out and kills us.

Instead of answering, the red-haired donna tapped her fingernail on the tabletop. A small grey mouse climbed up the table leg and sat on the back of her hand. It tilted its head, flashing its beady black eyes. Opened its mouth.

- Rosa, would you be so kind as to give me your hair, - the necromancer asked.

To her shame, the student hesitated for a second before pulling a long hair from a strand on her temple and holding it out to her mentor. Necromancer put it in the mouse's mouth. Gently she took the rodent with two fingers, turned it over. Rosa saw a flat bone button on the animal's belly. The red-haired donna undid the button and... opened the mouse.

- It's a necroconstruct! - The girl couldn't contain her surprise. - But I don't feel magic in it!

- A tiny charge of energy is distributed throughout the mouse's body, - the necromancer explained with a satisfied smile. - Completely indistinguishable from the natural background. Even to your eyes, my dear.

- That kind of charge would be enough... for a very short time. - Rosa wove her fingers together and apart, trying to see at least a spark of magical light beneath the necromouse's grey pelt.

- It doesn't take much. - Vittoria put the mouse on the table. - My raven will deliver the construct and the note to the informant at the king's camp. The informant will ascertain the prisoner's position and place the note with the necessary information in the mouse. Then leave it outside the hospital. I've enchanted the mouse with a sympathetic spell. It will follow the person whose hair it holds in its mouth. Find a reason to be near the hospital and watch your step. My baby will come running as soon as she smells you. All you have to do is go somewhere quieter and get a piece of paper out of her. Bring the mouse, too. I'm gonna need it.

"Someday I'll be able to do that," Rosa thought now, holding the strap of her travelling bag on her shoulder. The mouse-construct was an example of a magician's fine workmanship. A work of art. Her innate power allowed Vittoria to move objects with a glance and light fires with a snap of her fingers, but for such a masterpiece, skill and knowledge were far more important. And Rosa would acquire them one day. She just have to try.

The spies skirted the king's camp in a wide arc and made their way to the road far to the north. They waited until dawn and stood on the roadside. Jeanne thought that they would not have to wait long - the army may carry a lot of things with it, but if it stays in one place for weeks, it is necessary to bring supplies. The sullen warrior's calculations were justified. In about an hour the first cart pulled by a gaunt red horse appeared on the road. The cart was loaded with baskets of apples, and a remarkably muscular and bald middle-aged peasant sat in the front. The driver stopped the cart in front of the women and asked them in a friendly manner:

- Sisters, north or south?

- On our way with you, good man, - Rosa smiled at him, pulling back her hood. She made sure the man noticed the white gloves.

- Are you going to the king? - The peasant hummed and glanced at the "nuns". He could see nothing suspicious - men's jackets and boots, visible under their cloaks, were worn by travelling healers of both sexes. Hunting knives, which Jeanne and Rosa had openly hung from their belts, were a must-have for any traveller, much less a physician. The cloaks looked rather shabby and dusty.

- We were treating the sick in a village nearby, and we heard that there had been a big battle, - Rosa explained as she stopped smiling. - That's right, a lot of people will need our help.

- One bless you for your kindness, sisters. - The man made the sign. - Sit down, we'll ride together.

Waiting until the travellers had climbed into the cart, the peasant let the horse pace and said, looking over his shoulder:

- They say you think better on the road. I won't distract you with chitchat.

- Thank you, - Rosa said quite sincerely. - What is your name, good man? I will pray for you.

- Dominic I am, sister. - The charioteer shook his head. - Pray for all the Dominics, if you can, or the One will not know....

Donna Vittoria was not wrong in saying that the delay was to the plan's advantage. After the lost battle, even on the second day, the king's camp was in turmoil and disorder. A couple of nuns who arrived with a cart of apples, no one simply did not notice. Moreover, when Rosa herself tried to pester the first soldiers with questions, she was not honoured with an answer. In the end, Jeanne unceremoniously grabbed a stableman by the arm and pushed him towards her partner.

- Hey, what are you doing... - the poor guy started, but met the woman's eyes and stopped talking. The student hurried to take the initiative:

- Sir, I am a healer from the Order of St Simeon. Where is your hospital?

- Which one? - The stable boy asked glumly, stopping his lashing out.

- What do you mean? - Rosa didn't understand.

- There are three large hospitals in the camp. They're all full after the battle.

The scouts looked at each other. Donna Vittoria spoke as if there were only one hospital in Auguste's camp. Perhaps she was judging from the Loyalist army, but the king had more soldiers and healers.

- I'll visit all three, - the girl decided. - Where are they?

The stableman dryly explained the way and hurried away, rubbing his hand - Jeanne's grip was ironclad.

- There's no point in splitting up, - Rosa said to her gloomy companion. - I'll have to really go through all the hospitals. If we're lucky, we'll find a mouse in the first one.

- She'll be in the last one, - Jeanne said without a shadow of a doubt. - Discharged and crushed by someone. It's always like that.

The hospital they first heard and then smelled. Still, it did little to prepare Rosa for what she soon saw. There was no building, or even a tent, of course - just a trampled square with several long awnings of coarse cloth. Straw was piled under the sheds, and right on top of it lay the wounded, covered with thin blankets at best. Among them walked women with wooden pails, looking terribly tired. Occasionally one of them would lean over a wounded man to wipe his forehead with a damp cloth and give him a drink. She didn't see any healers, let alone mages. Unless there was a lone tent at the far end of the square with a wooden Creator's Symbol at the entrance, the medics could be resting there. Or it was a ward for the wealthier wounded. The noble dons preferred to treat their wounds in their own tents, but some of the veteran soldiers might have saved up money just for such an occasion to pay the healers.

- Hold on, madame, - Jeanne whispered in the girl's ear. The student probably turned a little green. - Remember, these are the enemy.

Enemies? Rosa did not yet recognise herself as one of the parties to the conflict, and so far her enemies had been those who had tried to harm her directly. Nomadic robbers, soldiers on the battlefield... Perhaps, after Donna Vittoria's revelations, she considered King Auguste and his alien allies an enemy as well. But these men... Helpless, maimed, abandoned by everyone, even their own commanders... Are they enemies? Some of them may have patrolled the streets of Daert when Rose lived there and studied.

The young sorceress walked slowly across the square. Pretending to look at the people on the ground, she looked for the grey ball of a mouse-construct under her feet. The mouse was nowhere to be seen, but one of the wounded men caught her attention. A young man was lying not directly in the straw, but on a thin and dilapidated mattress, covered with a real blanket instead of a piece of rag. At his feet sat two soldiers, either shooter or pikemen without armour. The older of them, a moustachioed man, who had already begun to grey, suddenly stood up in a hurry and stepped towards the women. He said uncertainly:

- Sisters... could you... Our commander is going to die soon. Will you see him off? For the Prophet's sake... I can't pay...

- Is the officer here? - Jeanne glanced incredulously at the wounded man. The man was oblivious, his face glistening with sweat. At times, the dying man shuddered and mumbled something.

- The lieutenant is our... from the landless. - The other soldier stood up too. He spoke even more stiffly than the moustache. - No title, no money. He spent his wages on us... here. To eat better, to repair armour. But when it came to his own needs, there was nothing.

- We dragged him here, scraped up some coins, paid the healer, and he took one look at him and left. – Mustached man spit in the straw. - He said he'd come again, and he's gone. Stay here, sisters. It won't be long now, I think. It's not good for a good man to go away like that. Not even a confession. Well, at least say a prayer.

- We didn… - Jeanne started. Rosa elbowed her in the stomach. Not much, fortunately. For the press of a maid-guard could have bruised her elbow. She said with a soft smile:

- I can't stay long, good people. But I can help with more than just prayer.

She raised her arms, letting the wide sleeves fall to her elbows. The soldiers only now noticed her white gloves.

- So you're a healer... - The mustachioed veteran's eyes widened, his face brightened. But a moment later, he sank back down. - The Creator sent you too late, sister.

- The Creator doesn't make mistakes, good man. He always does what's right, - Rose said. It sounded very... monastic. - Stand back.

The girl crouched down beside the dying man and placed her bag on the ground. She opened the flap, pulled out a few flasks of potions, arranged them in a row. She unsheathed her knife, rinsed the blade with a cleansing solution. Pulled the blanket off the wounded man. She took a deep breath.

The young officer had been shot in the stomach. And it looked very bad. The girl took off her gloves, so as not to stain with pus, carefully probed the edges of the wound. She used a little magic, letting herself feel the pain of someone else. The risk was hardly justified - the girl had even discharged her goggles before the mission, so as not to attract the stares of every army mage she met. Glasses in themselves were a suspiciously valuable item for a travelling nun, and enchanted ones even more so. Mages were rare among priests and monks, and always attracted interest, which was why Rosa had chosen to be a common "bride of the One". Now any passing mage would have noticed the greenish glowing threads that connected Rosa's hands to the officer's abdomen. However, the student was not a medic, and her healing skills were worth something only due to skilful improvisation, combining scientific knowledge with magical talent. She wasn't going to give up halfway.

- So? - Jeanne asked, stepping under the awning.

- The wound is not that deep. - Rose closed her eyes, keeping her palm on the wounded man's stomach. - It didn't even hit the internal organs, I think. It hadn't been cleaned properly and stitched up too hastily. That healer, probably paid by the soldiers. Inflammation, inflammation on the rise. I'll take the stitches out and clean it myself. You hold his legs, he'll probably wake up.

- Hey, you there! - The black-haired warrior turned to the soldiers. - Come here.

- They shouldn't… - the student lowered her voice, but the soldiers hurriedly approached. - All right. Help me hold it.

The most difficult thing was to pretend that the main work was done with a knife and a needle. In fact, the young sorceress's main tools were magic and potions, but she diligently pretended to be the labour of an ordinary healer. Cleaning the wound was no longer enough - the officer's blood itself was poisoned. The poison caused by the rotting wound was circulating through the unfortunate man's veins, collecting under his skin. The girl discreetly pricked her finger and mixed a drop of her own blood with the wounded man's. Then concentrated on the sensation. She compared her healthy blood with the patient's blood in front of her inner gaze, eliminated the known congenital differences, found the extra component. She memorised its image and began to weave a network of magical lines inside the officer's body. Find, separate, expel. Magic is for research, not cure. Another improvisation. It's like lighting a fire with telescope glass, catching a ray of sunlight. The telescope is designed for a different purpose, but it'll work.

- God Almighty, the lieutenant's sweat is bloody!" the mustachioed veteran who held his commander by the shoulders shrieked. Contrary to Rosa's fears, he didn't wake up when she opened the wound, but he twitched in unconsciousness at times.

- It's okay, it's the effect of the last potion," the student lied in a slurred voice. - That's the way it should be. Wipe it off.

Having drained the festering poison from the wounded man's body, the girl simultaneously finished cleaning the wound of dead flesh, pus and scraps of tissue that had fallen inside with the enemy blade.

- Jeanne. - The young sorceress washed the wound one last time and pulled down the edges. - Shay. I can't, my fingers are shaking.

The guardswoman took the needle and thread she had prepared in advance and splashed them with cleaning solution from the flask, which was almost empty. Under the wary glances of the soldiers, she began to work - slowly, diligently. Almost in the same way she had sewn the torn jacket the day they had first met. The patient groaned suddenly and opened his eyes. Focussed his gaze on Rosa's face. He whispered, barely moving his cracked lips:

- Sister... I…

- It's okay. - The girl wiped the sweat off his forehead with the palm of her hand. - You'll be fine. You don't need to confess.

- It hurts... - the young officer squeezed out.

- It'll pass. - Rosa brought a flask of sleeping potion to his lips. In fact, it was the only one in the bag that hadn't been taken for disguise. The potion could be used to put guards to sleep, for example. Naturally, it was much stronger than usual, so the girl gave the wounded man only a few drops. The unfortunate man almost immediately fell into an uneasy sleep. But it was no longer a painful unconsciousness caused by fever, but a real sleep.

- That's it. - Jeanne removed the needle. Rose leaned back with a sigh of relief, resting her sweaty palms on the ground.

- So that's what... - The moustached soldier shifted his gaze from one woman to another. - Is he going to live?

- Yeah, - was all Rosa could say. The operation had worn her out, more mentally than physically.

- Short and bad, like all normal people, - Jeanne added.

- Sisters... - The veteran's voice trembled. It seemed as if he was going to cry. - The Creator sent you, that's for sure....

- The Creator must have plans for your lieutenant. - The black-haired warrior lifted Rose to her feet almost by force, bent over to pick up her bag.

- We still have something left here... - The second soldier patted his pockets. He listened, as if hoping to distinguish the ringing of a coin.

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- If you have anything left, give it to the nurse to keep an eye on the lieutenant. - Rosa wiped her hands with a bundle of straw and pulled on gloves. - Keep the suture clean. When he wakes up, give him something to drink, he can drink. Buy some fortifying tinctures if you can.

She didn't bother to add that she'd lastly drugged the officer with restorative potions, like the one she'd used to speed up Toad wing's healing. The soldiers might not have known that they didn't work without guiding magic. They might not know that they didn't work without guiding magic, but someone they would inevitably tell.

- We'll remember you forever. - Moustache pressed his palm to his heart. - What's your name, sisters?

- Never mind, good man. - Rose shook her head. - Better tell me your and your lieutenant's names.

- I'm Gaston, this, - the veteran pointed to a comrade, - is Vincent, an Iolian. Lieutenant Bastien. Bastien de Leri.

- Let's pray for his health, Gaston. All the best to you. - Rose stepped out onto the straw-free path and lowered her gaze. The mouse-construct still hadn't turned up. Without listening to any more thanks from the soldiers, she strode away. Jeanne caught up with her and walked beside her. She asked:

- Who shall we help next, madame? There are a hundred more people suffering.

- Oh, Jeanne... - The young sorceress twitched her shoulders. - Leave it.

- I would ask why you did it, madame. - The bodyguard snorted. - Only I answered it myself last night. How are you? You've gone green, I see.

- If I fall, you'll carry me. - Rosa quickened her pace, hurrying to leave the hospital grounds. She didn't want to think about the fact that there were two more of them ahead.

However, when she reached the second square with the wounded, the girl stopped in indecision. She saw several figures in white cloaks with black marks - five or six nuns and two priests. The priests were apparently confessing a couple of dying men, and the sisters were serving breakfast. The student didn't want to meet any real servants of the One. Even a brief conversation could give her something away. Especially if the nuns were from the same order to which Rose had assigned herself. It was risky to stand still, though, so the sorceress moved slowly along the edge of the square, occasionally crouching near one or another of the wounded to examine them with a clever look.

- Damn it... - Jeanne muttered suddenly. One of the real nuns spotted the spies and came towards them. Rose straightened up, noting with some relief that the nun was not wearing a healer's glove, and her sleeves were adorned with unfamiliar Order insignia. That made things easier.

- Sister? - Rosa was the first to speak, giving herself a tired but confident look. - Is something wrong?

- You're Simeonites... - Their interlocutor was a sturdy woman with a yellowish tint to her skin and an unusual eye shape. One of her ancestors was probably from the Erdo Republic. - Good. Are you a healer, Sister...? - she paused, clearly expecting to hear a name.

- Dominika, - the student introduced herself, remembering the kind-hearted bald peasant. - Yes, I'm a healer. I arrived this morning.

- Thank the Creator, we could use the extra hands. - The nun made the Sign, and Rosa and Jeanne repeated it. - I'm Sister Irina. The eldest here. You will help my girls today.

- I'm afraid I'll have to hold off on that for now. - Rose gathered her will into a fist. Irina spoke in a commanding tone, reminding her of the Academy teachers, but joining the Sisters of Mercy for the day was not in her plans. - I haven't visited the third hospital yet, Sister. My strength and medication supplies are limited. I must weed out those who are too late to help and those who don't need help. Then devote myself to the rest.

The elderly nun glared at Rosa, then said with apparent reluctance:

- Well, I can't order you around, Sister Simeonite. - She emphasized the last word. Rose was indeed in her right to refuse to obey a senior nun from another order. - Hurry up. No matter how much work you find in other hospitals, you won't get any rest here.

When Sister Irina left, the girl quietly took a breath. She glanced sideways at jeanne. Warrior narrowed her eyes:

- You have a way with words, madam. You're an real eel.

- Any student can do that if he's ever taken an exam, Jeanne, - the girl grinned. - Let's go.

She slipped her thumb under the strap of her shoulder bag and continued on her way, circling the perimeter of the square. For once, the spies were lucky. Rose had time to look at the seven soldiers before a grey ball with a long tail darted at her feet.

- Ouch! - The young sorceress let the bag slip off her shoulder and fall into the straw. She crouched down, grabbed a mouse standing on its hind legs, stuck it between the leather flasks, and straightened up with the bag in her hands. Shaking it off the straws, she stepped to the next wounded man. To avoid arousing suspicion, Rosa had to complete her rounds. The real nuns, fortunately, almost ignored the fake "sister", looking at her with dislike, but from a distance. All this time the girl was tormented by the thought that she had inadvertently caught a real rodent instead of a messenger construct. However, the mouse did not scratch, did not try to get out, and did not show any signs of life. Finally leaving the square, Rosa found a secluded nook between the two tents and peered into the bag while Jeanne waited nearby. The mouse was lying on the bottom with its belly up. The bone button was perfectly visible. The girl made the Sign of the One - for the first time in a day, quite sincerely.

- Come here, little one... - She took out the mouse, undid the button, and took out a square-wrapped note. She unfolded it, read it, put it back, turned to Jeanne:

- Tall dark blue tent on the north-eastern edge of the camp. It's far away from the others, so we’ll see it. There's always a guard of two soldiers in front of it. There's someone else inside. This is it.

- Shall we go that way? - The warrior suggested it. - Not to storm, to look around.

Rose rubbed her chin:

- You know, you should go alone. I don't know anything about this kind of thing anyway, unless I can spot magic.

- And you will go to the third hospital. - Jeanne tilted her head to her shoulder.

- Yeah. - The girl shrugged her shoulders. - A lot of people have already seen me here, so don't make a fuss. I'll continue to play the role of healer, and you watch the target, think about the plan... Then come and get me. Evening would be best.

- If you need to shout louder, I'll hear you. I guess so. - The guardswoman squeezed Rosa's elbow for a second, looking her in the eye. - And don't operate on anyone else, please.

At this point the spies parted. When Rosa reached the third hospital, she found that the wounded were being cared for by female camp servants. Encouraged by the absence of the servants of the One, the girl decided to stay longer. She went from soldier to soldier, reciting over and over the shortest prayer she knew, "Heavenly Father". Some of the wounded were sleeping. Some were delirious. Some prayed with her, some were silent, some tried to speak. The necromancer's apprentice didn't respond, but soon the mere pretence of helping became unbearable. Rose changed her approach. Now she crouched down in front of each unfortunate and touched his forehead with two fingers. Saying the words of a prayer, the girl drank a drop of pain from her "patient". Just a little bit - to subtly ease the suffering, that's all. In the end, she still felt sick. Other people's pain began to echo throughout her body. Stab wounds, slash wounds, bullets lodged in her body, broken bones, knocked out teeth, dislocated joints - the young sorceress experienced it all at once, albeit in the form of faint echoes. She seemed to have collected the wounds of the whole company, though she had time to examine only two dozen people. It was getting harder and harder to hold on as usual.

The women servants were called for lunch just in time, and Rosa stumbled along with them. She took a bowl of porridge from the soldier's kitchen, a couple of thin flatbreads and a jar of plain water. Again the skill of eating when there was no appetite came in handy - the tasteless but nourishing meal the girl literally shoved into herself, fighting nausea. When she returned to the square, she lay down in the straw away from the tents and fainted rather than fell asleep. The sun was touching the tops of the tents and Jeanne was sitting next to her.

- I knew you'd do something if you were left alone, - the black-haired woman said as soon as Rose moved.

- I didn't operate. - The girl sat up, leaning on her elbows. - Honestly.

- Mm-hmm. - Jeanne stood up, helped her partner up. - How you feeling?

- Not bad. - It was true - the phantom pains had subsided with sleep, the nausea had eased, the strength had increased. - How about you?

- I found them. - The maid lowered her voice. - It's just like the note said.

- Maybe we should do more… - Rose took a step toward the awnings, but stopped. Several nuns entered the hospital square, accompanied by two men in plain dress and a woman whose belt was adorned with pouches of amulets that glowed dimly through the fabric. The army healers had finally honoured the wounded soldiers. - All right, let's go.

- There are four men guarding the tent, - Jeanne said as they hurried away from the square. - Two stay outside, two rest inside. Then they take turns.

- It's a bit small, - Rosa said.

- That's fine if they're not expecting an attack. What would they fear in their own camp? The sentries are more likely to keep an eye on the prisoner to make sure he doesn't escape. They don't bring them food, they eat something from their own supplies. Sleeping potion's not an option.

- Then what? - The scouts stopped at the stable, where there were no horses or stablemen now. Rosa leaned her hip against it.

- The tent is really out of the way, - Jeanne replied. - At night it will be lit only by the fire in front of the entrance. I'll climb up from the dark side, get inside and take out the resting guards. But there may be noise. I want you to talk teeth to the guards outside, just for a few minutes.

- I can do that. - Rosa smiled, remembering the recent praise of her dodginess.

- Also, look from a distance to see if you can see any magical alarms. Leave the rest to me.

They had to wait for darkness for quite a long time, during which time the spies got out of the camp, pretending to look for some medicinal herbs. This gave them a chance to get close enough to the tent they were looking for. Rosa glanced round at the target of their mission, caught Jeanne's gaze, and shook her chin. She could feel no magic. At dusk, the women returned to pick up dinner in the communal kitchen Rosa knew. It was uncomfortable and even embarrassing to eat from the enemy's table, but the girl decided to consider the porridge and flatbread as payment for helping the wounded. It didn't smell like an equal exchange from ancient alchemical treatises, but Rosa was fine with it. Over a leisurely meal, dusk turned to night, and the two women slipped quietly out of the royal army. The camp fires glowed behind them, and the sparks of the lanterns in the hands of the sentries flickered ahead. They were few in number - the sentries were primarily watching the river and the flanks, not fearing a blow to the rear.

- Ready, madame? - Jeanne asked, throwing off her nun's cloak.

- Ready, - the young sorceress nodded. - And... Jeanne...

- Yes? - The guardswoman pulled her long, thick black leather gloves from her belt and pulled them on. Clenched and unclenched her fists. The leather creaked.

- I think these people, Auguste's soldiers... - Rosa spread her hands, trying to find words that wouldn't sound too stupid and naive. - They are not enemies. They're just as much victims of the conspiracy as the Loyalist soldiers. If only they knew what they were really fighting for...

- Soldiers usually fight for money and food, madame. - Jeanne checked the sheath of her dagger and hung it from the belt of her trousers. - I hope you don't intend to go preaching to them?

- No, - the girl sighed. - But... It's a lot to think about.

Jeanne finished her preparations in silence, clapped her partner on the shoulder, and strode away. Black-haired, black-clad, she literally melted into the darkness. The necromancer's apprentice slowly counted to one hundred. Jeanne had to go round the prison tent in a circle without being seen by the sentries, then crawl as close as possible to the target and wait for Rosa to appear. What would happen next, the student could only guess. Definitely something bloody.

- Ninety-nine... one hundred... - The girl nervously interlocked her fingers in front of her chest and moved forward, trying not to hurry. It was hard to lose sight of the tent - the sentries had built a fire right in front of the entrance. They were sitting on camp blankets by the fire, talking about something. The soldiers certainly felt safe, and only noticed the intruder when she stepped into the circle of light. The guards jumped up, grabbing their scabbards, but did not draw their swords. They stared suspiciously at the girl in the white cloak. The girl in the white cloak stared at them with a scrutinising gaze. Identical green caftans, brimmed hats, swords on their slings. No spears or halberds, no armour. That would have told Rosa something....

- Sister, what are you doing here? - One of the sentries asked unfriendly when he finally saw Rosa's robes. The other blocked the entrance to the tent with his back.

- I am told that in this tent lies a badly wounded man, whose actions have branded him with a mass of sins! - The student began with inspiration, raising her voice a little more than was necessary. Let the soldiers at once get used to a strange nun speaking as if from a pulpit. - The priestly fathers had no time for him, but I have come to confess a sinner before he die!

- There's no one here, sister. - The soldier frowned. - Who told you that?

- Sister Irina, a kind person, sent me. - Rosa rounded her eyes. - She said it was an important errand!

A hissing sound came through the thin walls of the tent. It was definitely not human. It sounded like that of an angry Toad. The sentries turned round.

- You're not deceiving me, good man?! - Rosa unceremoniously seized her companion by the shoulder and yanked him to her. - The sin will fall on you! To deprive a sinner's soul of the chance of redemption through confession...

- Sister, there is no one here. - The soldier tried to push her away, but the girl clutched the sleeve of his uniform with all her might. - Go away!

The entrance canopy swung open silently. A black-gloved hand clamped over the second sentry's mouth, the blade of a dagger glinting in the firelight. The soldier twitched, mumbled, and was silent as the dagger slashed his throat. Second soldier looked round in surprise, but did nothing. Throwing aside the dagger, Jeanne pulled the sword from her victim's sheath, pushed the body inside the tent, and made a lightning-fast lunge. The guard didn't even cry out - the blade went between his throat and jaw, exited the other side of his neck. Hot drops splashed on Rosa's forehead. She drew back involuntarily.

- Ugh… - The guard collapsed to his knees. Jeanne kicked him in the chest, freeing the blade from his body, and finished him with a stinging blow. She looked round quickly. Rosa, who had come to her senses, followed her maid's example. No one seemed to notice the brief fight.

- Is everything all right? - The girl asked in a whisper for some reason.

- In general... no. Not everything. - Jeanne met her eyes, shook her head. - Come inside.

She herself picked up the dead guard and laid him on a blanket by the fire. She fidgeted, making the corpse look asleep. Rosa wiped her forehead with her sleeve, hurriedly entered the tent... And at once she realised that everything was really wrong. The bodies of the sentries killed by Jeanne inside did not attract her attention. Because in the centre of the tent stood a steel cage. And in the cage stood a creature staring at her with golden eyes. It was bipedal, two-armed, covered in black scales, with tangled long hair and clothed in filthy rags. The creature's face was only partially human, its eyes round, its ears flattened against its head, its mouth showing impressive fangs.

- It's... - the girl faltered. Jeanne looked into the tent and pulled out the second corpse. She came back a few seconds later and carefully pulled the tent flap closed behind her. Than asked:

- What is this, madame?

- It's… - The necromancer's apprentice couldn't take her eyes off the cage. - It's a dragon knight, Jeanne.

- I've heard they can do... that sort of thing. - The warrior hummed, playing with her trophy sword. - But this... it behaves like a beast. And don't knights turn in a matter of minutes?

- He... she, it's a woman... she stiffened. - Rosa swallowed. - She was stuck in a reversed state. It had happened about ten times in the history of dragon chivalry. Over the centuries. The dragon's blood had consumed the host's mind. She really was more beast than human now.

- She won't go with us, will she? - Judging by Jeanne's tone, she already knew the answer.

- Yes, - the sorceress nodded. The girl stepped forward and slowly raised her hand. The creature in the cage recoiled, pressed its back into the bars, hissed.

- One of the kennels in my mistress's retinue... last time... treated the dogs badly, - Jeanne said. - Beat them often. They reacted the same way to him. And he reacted the same way to me. After one conversation in private. Apparently, she wasn't treated well. Magic won't work?

- Mine didn't. - Rose lowered her hand. - But we have a sleeping potion. How do we get her to drink it?

- Hmm. - The black-haired warrior cracked her knuckles, stretching her neck. - She didn't look very big. I'll get in the cage and immobilise her, and you get her drunk.

- A knight in this form is stronger than it looks. - The necromancer's apprentice walked across the tent - two steps to the left, two to the right. The creature watched her warily from the cage. - It had claws and teeth. Too dangerous, for both of you. I'll think of something, wait...

The student set her medicine bag on the floor, looked inside. She hummed. There was still a construct mouse at the bottom. Rose pulled the dead rodent out, turned to the cage. Holding the mouse by the tail, she wiggled it in the air like some kind of locket on a chain. The creature in the cage moved forward, staring at the grey lump with interest.

- My mentor will kill me, - she muttered, hiding the mouse in her palm. - Then she'll rise me up as a construct and make me work for my debt.

For once, Jeanne's face showed emotion other than the usual sullenness.

- Did you think of it? - She asked with undisguised curiosity.

- Mm-hmm. - One of the dead guards was still clutching a piece of flatbread in his hand. An almost empty bowl of porridge lay nearby. Jeanne had finished off the unfortunate man before he could finish his late supper. Rosa, fascinated by the new idea, took the flatbread from the dead fingers, dipped it in the remains of the porridge, rolled it into a bread ball, poured the sleeping potion into the same bowl, dipped the ball into it. She put the ball into the necromouse, fastened the button. Rubbed the little grey body with porridge.

- Can't you just give her bread? - Jeanne, who understood the student's idea, asked.

- The odour of the potion was too strong, it had to be broken. - Rosa shook the mouse in front of the cage again. The scaly captive still looked interested. - Besides, the porridge smelled like meat, and the mouse looked familiar. Now...

The girl threw the mouse into the cage. The captive caught it on the fly and immediately put it in her mouth, chewing on it. Swallowed it.

- Yes! - Rosa shook her clenched fists.

- The main thing is that when you explain yourself to Donna, don't lead her to think that we could have had other options, - Jeanne advised. - When will she be asleep?

- Soon, - Rosa assured him. - I can't say for sure, but it's a strong potion, a good dose for this weight.

- Then I'll go and artistically arrange the dead, while you look for the key to the cage. - The warrior walked out, sword still in hand. Rose began to search the tent. The keys were not in the possession of one of the guards, but in a small travelling chest, along with some sealed letters. The necromancer's apprentice slipped them into her pocket just in case. By this time, the knight had calmed down considerably, becoming lethargic. After a few more minutes, she sat down on the floor and dropped her head to her chest. Rose waited a little to be sure, quietly called Jeanne. The two of them opened the cage and took the prisoner out. Rosa helped her onto the back of her taller partner, secured her with a blanket and some rope she had found. She pulled off the nun's cloak, crumpled it up, stuffed it in her bag. It would be foolish to leave unnecessary evidence to the enemy - let him wonder how the spies got into the camp and who they were. Jeanne's cloak would probably be found, but not immediately, and not at the scene of the attack.

- Come on. - Rosa went out first, holding the canopy for the maid. She walked ahead of them, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings with both simple and magical vision.

Theoretically, they had one last difficult step - to get out of the guard line with the prisoner. In reality, it was quite simple. There were only a couple of mounted troops patrolling the northern border of the camp. Because of the lanterns in the hands of the head riders, it was not difficult to spot them from afar and bypass them. It was all the more easy to sneak past the guard posts, where soldiers sat in clusters around the fires. It was barely past midnight when the two spies and their loot reached the river where they had stepped ashore almost twenty-four hours before. Rosa took out a clay mug and a clear crystal - a discharged magic lamp - from her trusty bag. She brought it to her face, touched her forehead, whispered an incantation. Than waited a minute, transferring the energy to the crystal. After the painful attempts to charge the amulet in the necromancer's lessons, working with the lamp was a pleasure. When the crystal glowed an even, pale-golden radiance, Rosa slipped it into the mug and placed it on its side, with the open end facing the river. Now the light was harder to see from the shore.

It seemed like an eternity to the young sorceress, but the moon creeping across the sky indicated the exact time - hardly an hour passed before a dark mass emerged from the darkness, parting the waves. Crossing the river on a dragon was definitely not the quietest way, but it was certainly the fastest and safest.

- Toad! - Rosa stood up, waving her hand at the dragoness. The dragon snorted a welcome snort and climbed out into the shallow water. Don Marius hung down from his saddle:

- Signora, you're all right! Praise the One!

- Yes, and Jeanne too. - The girl smiled at the knight, though he could hardly see her face in the darkness. - Put Toad down, the rescued one is unconscious.

The dragoness obediently sank belly down into the coastal mud, and the spies hurriedly began to load the rescued one on her back. Marius shifted his eyebrows when he saw who had been lifted into his saddle, but he refrained from asking questions. They could be spotted by sentries or a dragon patrolling the skies, and every minute counted. There was only enough room on the saddle for the rider and the captive. Securing the rescued one with straps, Rosa and Jeanne hung onto the harness. Toad turned round, trampling the reeds, and dived back into the Shaanta. The water whipped down Rosa's legs, reaching up to her knees, hitting the shins of her boots. The sudden cold made the young sorceress grit her teeth, pressing herself tighter into the dragon's hide. Luckily, Mariuse's pet swam perfectly - they were on their side before Rosa could feel her little fingers. There seemed to be some commotion in Auguste's camp, whether they had found corpses or spotted Toad. None of that mattered anymore.

- Let's stop, - the girl asked after a few more minutes. - I'd rather walk than go like this....

- Of course. They can't get us here anymore. - Marius stopped the dragoness. The women slid down to the ground. Jeanne, who jumped first, helped Rosa, whose arms and legs were a little stiff and unsteady. The young sorceress undressed boots, pulled off her wet stockings and rubbed her feet. Meanwhile, the knight examined the prisoner, who was strapped to the saddle, and took out a crystal lamp from somewhere. Suddenly he swore loudly and obscenely.

- What is it, milord? - The girl raised her head fearfully.

- She... the one you saved... - The young knight seemed to be choking with anger. - That's my cousin. That's Minerva. What the hell have they done to her?!