Yv nodded, and the owner added hastily, “his room is number seven.”
When Yv had already started up the stairs, once again the young man’s voice came from the table, “And who is the Eternal One?”
For a few moments there was silence in the tavern, and Yv turned slowly and quietly, but making sure that everybody heard, he said, “That young man, nobody knows.”
Then he turned and quietly continued up the stairs.
In Don Charleman’s room there were two people: Grey Mustache and Don Kior. Yv nodded in understanding and closed the door. They both watched in silence as he pulled the sword and sheath over his head and threw it on the bed next to Don Kior.
“Well, what do you have to say?”
Don Kior thoughtfully rubbed his cheek against his shoulder, making his mustache bristle.
“Everything is as clear as mud. Tomorrow we need to walk about and ask around. While we do this, just try to fill your belly. I swear by Saint Bagro this is also very important. I and the Grey Mustache have checked out all the rumors that have come to our ears in the last two weeks. Unless we have missed something, it would appear that the recruiters are very cautious.”
“Why so few rumors?”
“There are plenty of rumors, but nothing credible,” grinned Don Charleman.
Don Kior sighed. “If I don’t find a contract in the next week, at least in a convoy, or even with pirates, I swear by Saint Inuaria, I will be forced to dump this little planet.”
Don Charleman shook his head and smiled sadly.
“Where will you go to? At least here is an intersection of transport routes.”
“I swear to the God-Soothsayer, there too many of our brothers here.” Don Kior thoughtfully scratched his head. “Or, maybe it’s a good idea to go to the Ushkuyniks at New City? A boyar I know there has been inviting me to visit for a long time. They are fearless guys and not looking for a truce.”
The Grey Mustache crooked his lips into a smile.
“That's why they are outlawed in every world, apart from their New City. OK, my noble friends, tomorrow I'll go through the port offices for hire, and listen to what they have to say.”
“I will knock around the taverns and bars,” added Don Kior.
Yv nodded and said, “I will spend some time here. Whoever this employer may be, it is unlikely that he will spit on three veterans.”
Don Kior rose, and after the manner of the Noble Dons, he hugged Yv then Charleman, alternately touching their cheeks with his mustache, and left the room.
The next day, Yv woke up late. Grey Mustache was not around. Lucky took a leisurely breakfast in the half-empty hall, left his clothes for washing with a pretty maid, who, with downcast eyes, said that, if it please the noble lord, today she would iron his shirts alone in her room until midnight. But, in case the Don turned out to be completely clueless, she added that he may stop by at any time and check whether the work was being done diligently enough. Yv took note of this, slapped the maid hopefully on her sturdy ass and went for a shower. When he walked back from the shower, drying his wet hair with a towel, the young man he met the day before was next to the door of his room, shifting from one foot to the other. Yv stood in the doorway, gave him a look, and said casually, “Well, what do you want, village boy?”
The young man sheepishly pulled off his hat and, crumpling it in his hands, asked plaintively, “Please take me into your service, sir.”
“Are you out of your mind?” snorted Yv.
“Take me in, sir, you will not regret it,” said the young man excitedly. “I am quick to learn, and I know how to drive a flyer, and also … a tractor and a skimmer … also I can ride a horse and do sewing.”
Yv laughed.
“Yes, my boy, you're full of talent. But the thing is that I can’t afford to hire a servant. After the Armistice there is too little work for the Noble Dons, and what work there still is, we fight over the scraps, and the only thing that unites us all are skinny wallets.”
The young man squirmed uncomfortably. “I do not need much. All I need to begin with is some food and somewhere to sleep, and if you get rich, then some of it will fall to me.”
Yv shook his head. “My friend, did you not hear what I told you? What chance is there for you to become a Noble Don? Rid the idea from your head. These days even veterans can’t find contracts, and jerks like you don’t stand a chance.”
The young man stubbornly held up his head. Yv sighed, then waved his hand and said, “OK, what's your name then?”
“Pip!” he replied happily.
Yv opened the door to his room and threw a pair of boots in the corridor.
“All right, young man, if you are so stubborn, here’s a job for you.”
Pip beamed, and grabbing the boots, rushed up the stairs. Yv chuckled, shook his head, and closed the door.
Beer Keg and Grey Mustache only came back in the evening. First to arrive was Don Kior. He burst into the room, firmly closed the door behind him, and turned to Yv, who realized that Beer Keg had sniffed something out. While the Don was pulling off his thermal coat and sheathed sword, there was a knock on the door. It turned out to be Don Charleman. He had not come alone, but with some stooped, dark-haired Don, dressed in a black jerkin and wearing a captain's epaulets.
“Please welcome, noble gentlemen, Don Diaz, nicknamed Stubborn Bull, captain of the free corvette, Blasco Ninyas. He paused and solemnly concluded, “He’s also our potential employer.”
Their guest bowed majestically. Grey Mustache turned to the captain, and with dignity, introduced his friends. “This is Don Kior, nicknamed Beer Keg, and Don Yv, nicknamed Lucky. Both are well known among the Noble Dons, so there is hardly any need for any additional recommendations.”
Don Diaz nodded and asking permission by his look, sat down on the bed. Yv obligingly asked. “Maybe, you would care for some Malvasia?”
“I can’t resist it,” replied the guest in a deep tenor voice.” Don Kior and Don Charleman looked at Yv puzzled, but Yv, with a mysterious look on his face, slammed a fist on the wall.
“Hey, Pip!”
After a few seconds there was the sound of feet in the hallway, and a breathless Pip appeared in the doorway.
“Did you want me, sir?”
“Fetch some glasses and a couple of bottles of Malvasia.”
“Instantly!” The young man rushed off to fulfill his orders.
Laughing, Beer Keg shook his head.
“Looks like Lucky, proves to be a wealthier Don than we are. He has even got himself a servant.”
Yv merely shrugged.
“He’s glued to me like a limpet.”
After half an hour of leisurely conversation, from which Yv concluded that Don Diaz had managed to find out a lot about them, he put aside his glass, and adjusting his sword sheath, he stood up resolutely and said, “Thank you for an enjoyable evening, gentlemen” He gave them a searching look. The Dons froze, and the guest turned towards Yv and said, “It’s rumored, Lucky, that you are anything but.”
Don Kior jumped from his seat.
“Who says such nonsense? I swear by Saint Neum and St Michael, if a man never missed a serious fight since the beginning of the Conquest, and it left them without a scratch, how can you say…”
Yv put his hand on Don Kior’s shoulder and turned to Stubborn Bull, saying, “You're right, Don Diaz, such rumors exist.” He smiled at Beer Keg. “In the end, even if you take half of those fights I was involved in, it turns out that I was the only one that survived in one piece.” After a pause, he asked softly, “Does this somehow reduce my chances?”
Don Diaz replied wryly, “On the contrary. Our idea is so insane that it would not hurt to have at least one person on the team who’s famous as a favorite of the Virgin Mary and Dagmar’s Warning. So, your chances are even better.” He paused, looked around at the tense faces of the Dons and gravely said, “We're going to Zovros, gentlemen.”
2
After taking the co
rvette to cruising speed, Don Diaz collected everybody onto the gun deck. The team first, then the boarding squad and servants. Some had arrived on board at the last minute, so now four dozen motley Dons stared at each other with cautious interest. Don Kior spotted someone familiar, and they exchanged greetings. Grey Mustache also exchanged words with several Dons and turned with a happy smile.
“I must say, my noble friend, there really are a lot of people gathered here that I would trust my back to in any battle without hesitation.”
Beer Keg nodded in agreement.
“Yes, I swear by Saint Sebastian, I recognize several excellent Slayers.” He peered closely at the bulkhead cover protecting the gun batteries, and added, “I swear to Saint Neerget that I never heard of a set of four cannons on a corvette. Except for one, which was recently named the "Heir Flint" and it fully justifies its name.”
On a low gallery encircling the perimeter gun deck, Don Diaz appeared, accompanied by several companions, among whom stood a tall, burly Don in an immaculate coat, and a chic hat, with bright plumage. When he pulled off his hat from his head in the familiar manner, and made a little bow in the traditional way, those gathered together froze for a moment. Then a startled gasp swept through the hall and a stunned Beer Keg muttered, “It’s Fat Anselm! By Saint Egor, I can’t believe it. I really thought that after the raid on Karrash nothing in this world could lure him back to the captain’s bridge.”
“Yes, Don Anselm always flew his sails in a professional manner,” Grey Mustache grinned happily.
Stubborn Bull and Don Anselm watched the enthusiastic reaction of their audience in satisfaction. Then Don Anselm imperiously raised his hand for silence. The noise gradually subsided. Fat Anselm straightened up and began to speak in a sonorous voice.
“Noble dons, I am grateful to you for such a unanimous vote of confidence.” Fat Anselm gratefully bowed his gray head. “But we are not gathered here for me to indulge my self-esteem.” He paused. “The time has come when you have to ask about the purpose of our expedition.” He turned and beckoned to someone from behind him. “Cardinal Desiree will tell you all about it.”
This news caused a real shock. If the presence of Fat Anselm on a crappy corvette, which clearly not so long ago had committed piracy, how was it possible to somehow explain the presence here of the head of the Secretariat of the Curia. It was beyond belief. The Noble Dons all knelt as one and removed their hats. Cardinal Desiree offered a short prayer and blessed the audience. When the Dons rose, talking loudly, the cardinal swept them with a penetrating gaze, and raised his hand for silence. The discussions instantly subsided.
“My children,” started the cardinal sadly. “All of you will remember that more than one hundred fifty years ago, Saint Dagmar was the first from all people to face those whom we call the Enemy.”
He paused, giving the noble Dons and all those gathered, time to consider such deep matters they were about to plunge into. But Fat Anselm interrupted the cardinal.
“I beg your pardon, Father, but they are simple swordsman who can hardly remember the difference between Saint Anthony and Saint Neel.” He laughed. “Except maybe for Beer Keg, who knows all the saints without exception. So, they need to have everything explained as simply as possible.” Don Anselm turned to stand before those below and shouted, “We have to find Mother Dagmar’s crystals.”
The people in the room exchanged puzzled glances. Then Grey Mustache came forward, made a courteous bow, and asked in surprise, “Forgive me worthy gentlemen for my bewilderment, but if my memory serves me correctly, Saint Neerget the Martyr brought Saint Dagmar’s crystals to the world of men, on which she had written her warning …” He paused and said softly, “Or is it the case that whatever we have been told so far … uh … uh … does not correspond to the reality?”
The cardinal nodded quickly.
“No, no, of course, everything is as it was. It was Saint Neerget, even when he was close to death after suffering monstrous torture by the Enemy that managed to flee Zovros and bring Saint Dagmar’s Warning to the world of men. But the thing is that the crystal was largely destroyed and almost ninety percent of the information was lost. We recovered part of it, and thus, evidence that Dagmar had six crystals which were full of information about the Enemy. After all, Saint Dagmar was a prominent scientist.”
There was silence for a while, then an anxious voice spoke out.
“But what if the Enemy is still there, and so much time has passed?”
The cardinal nodded again.
“This is true, but as far as we know, after the raid by the Black Earl, when he brought back the Children of Wrath and the women who had not yet given birth, there was no permanent garrison on Zovros, and on our crystal, there is information about the hiding place where Saint Dagmar kept her media. Although we are aware of the fact that we may not find anything,” he threw up his hands, “I am sure that our mission will be successful …” The cardinal trailed off, making it clear that in this case, any other comment would be superfluous.
The Dons again started talking excitedly, but then the powerful deep voice of Fat Anselm blocked the hum of voices.
“Let us pray, brethren,” and he was the first to go down on one knee.
***
After the Mass, everybody returned to their cabins. Yv sent Pip to the kitchen to prepare dinner, and sat down next to Beer Keg, who was hotly trying to explain something to Don Charleman, sitting next to him.
“Yes, I swear by Saint Pablo, Saint Jerome, and Saint Olga, the Pope has sent a ship from the Monastery of the Order of the Sword of the Militant, and we are no more than bait for the Enemy. When I was on Porgos, there was a ship being fitted out, and it was being done in a hurry, by the way.”
“We are not big enough to be serious bait,” Grey Mustache disagreed. “Besides, I strongly doubt that the venerable Cardinal Desiree with all his humility, and his inherent dignity, would volunteer to take on such a role.”
Don Kior hesitated, not knowing what to say to such a compelling argument, then stubbornly pursed his lips.
“So why do you think that they hired this pirate vessel for such an important mission, when they have a powerful fleet of their own?”
Grey Mustache shook his head.
“Try to understand my friend, from the religious point of view, the Great Vatican, is of course, a beacon of faith and bulwark of the truth, but in reality, it's just a common state. What do you think is the most valuable thing in our world?”
Don Kior looked at his brothers-in-arms in surprise, then gently replied, “Kelimit?”
Don Charleman laughed.
“Kelimit, of course, is of great value, but still you did not guess right. The most precious thing in our world is information. And in our time, the most precious information is information about the Enemy.”
Beer Keg nodded thoughtfully, and Don Charleman quietly continued.
“You're right, they have powerful ships, and legions of warrior monks, but each of them is monitored by spies from the Sultanate of Regul, the Russian Empire, and the Trade Republic of Tahir, and maybe a dozen other states. But in our company secrecy plays an important role.” Grey Mustache smiled. “I do not doubt that at this moment, officially Cardinal Desiree is currently being treated for migraines in some papal villa in a little-visited corner of the land.”
Don Kior thoughtfully scratched his head, then stubbornly blurted out, “All the same, I swear by Saint Stephan, there’s something wrong here. Do you really want me to believe that they have only just deciphered the crystal?”
“It would be foolish to argue over that, my noble friend.”
Beer Keg straightened, satisfied that they at least partially agreed with him, and turned to Yv.
“Well, what do you say, Lucky?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Let’s just see what happens.”
Don Kior chuckled. “I swear by Saint Stoker, I would be relaxed to find out that I was also a favorite of the Madonna, so in
this situation we need to use our brains, and not run into the Kazgarots.”
The next day, Stubborn Bull visited the cockpit. For some reason he looked upset. When he appeared in the doorway, Grey Mustache and Beer Keg were lazily throwing dice, and Lucky was teaching Pip how to catch a Rondel dagger. Looking around this idyllic picture, Don Diaz smiled wryly and immediately took the bull by the horns.
“Listen Lucky, I heard a rumor that you were a gunner in the Black Earl’s fleet.”
Lucky nodded. “That was the case, only no special ability was required. When his ship arrived at Zovros, everything was already all over. I fired a couple of times over the surface of the planet, and that was it.”
The captain nodded. “I know this, but I know that the Black Earl would not take on a gunner that he didn’t trust.”
Yv shrugged and Don Kior just grinned. “If I had known the Black Earl himself, I swear by Saint Zhaglo, I could be sure of this.”
“Rumor has it that he himself was the Eternal One,” sighed Grey Mustache.
Stubborn Bull grimaced irritably. “Eternal or not Eternal? I do not know, and frankly, I do not want to know, but now what is important to me is whether you agree to work as my gunner?”
Beer Keg and Grey Mustache looked at each other in surprise.
“What happened to the previous one?” Yv asked
The captain waved his hand irritably.
“That idiot, I didn’t want to take him in the first place, but my old gunner was killed at …” the captain decided not to specify where. “In short, he was killed, and there was nobody else decent around. At least this last one had a Diploma of Technology from the University of New Simaron.” He sighed. “He may have been a greenhorn, and heard enough romantic crap about the Noble Dons, but it didn’t take him even a week to get involved in trouble! He was summoned to a duel, and with whom?” He raised his hands in exasperation and slapped his knees. “Don Shtafir.”
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