CHAPTER 7 – FLIGHT OF THE INTRUDER


Grand Duke's manor, four hours later

The summer residence of Guldenhorf rulers – large, two-story stone manor surrounded by the vast park – was built several centuries ago amongst the picturesque hills. This small island of tranquility in a few kilometers from capital might seem to be absolutely unguarded – but in reality, Grand Duke enjoyed twenty mage knights and over a hundred common guards which were stationed in barracks nearby; they could arrive at the manor in a matter of minutes.

With such defense perimeter, the manor itself was only lightly guarded. This evening, there were only six men, all commoners - two by two on each floor, and the final pair served as escort for Grand Duke's carriage.

It was pretty boring to be an indoor guard – patrol your designated floor once per hour and ensure that all is normal. Occasionally, two of them met in one of the rooms and chatted for a couple of minutes – it was the only entertainment available to them. At this moment, both second floor guards stood at the Duke's lounge.

'Hey Dieter, did you finished in the right wing?'

'Not yet, Hans – I still have to check Princess' rooms. You?'

'Mine's all right, but two of these fancy new torches burned out; I'll check them all over again before night shift – damn magic crap burn twice as fast as your normal, common, stick-rag-and-oil thing!'

Dieter smiled. 'You're right, but they do not smoke and looks nice.'

Hans shook his head. 'Nobles and their quirks… Speaking of which, when His Highness will return?'

'Pretty soon, I guess. Let's wrap it up and go grab something to chew.'

In a dim light, both of them failed to notice a black silhouette, crouched on one of the beams under the ceiling.

Matilda used approaching twilight as a cover to climb a tree that grew near the wall and jump onto the roof; she then quickly worked her way to the small attic window. Earlier, she dumped her "old beggar" disguise and changed into all-black suit with cape – a comfortable and durable piece of clothing, made for her by Galvanov's technicians; unlike her old cloak, it was designed not to betray its bearer by rustle of fabric.

And stealth was crucial on this mission.

She surveyed the hall below – a luxuriously decorated lounge that could accommodate most demanding noble guests; there was nobody inside at this time of day, except lone paunchy guard armed with a halberd who seemed to be performing his patrol routine. The entire room was dimly lit by only two torches, hanging in the center opposite of each other.

A quick flick of her wand – and one of them crumbled into fine dust, its flames quickly dying.

'Damn these things, always at the wrong time…' Hans grumbled and went to check the failed light source.

Matilda reached for her pocket and pulled out another gift from Galvanov – a small pistol-like weapon. It used compressed air to fire syringe-like needles, filled with sleeping potion; one shot could incapacitate a horse in two seconds, and the average man wouldn't even know what hit him – until he woke up with a terrible headache.

She aimed it on guard's upper neck that was left unprotected by his armor and pressed the trigger. Gun fired its little projectile with a quiet hiss; Hans felt like some insect had stung him. He tried to reach for it – but went limp and collapsed on the floor, his halberd making a loud clang as it landed beside.

Another short spell which quenched the second torch - and the lounge went completely dark. Matilda jumped to the floor and quickly crouched behind one of the tables.

Dieter was about to head downstairs and into the kitchen when he heard metallic sounds coming from the lounge. Must be just clumsy Hans who caught on something again, he thought with disdain; but it never hurts to check.

'What was that? Hans? Are you there?' he shouted as he went inside.

Another hissing discharge of the dart gun – and Dieter joined his comrade on the floor, sleeping soundly. Matilda managed to catch his halberd in midair; she then quietly put it on the floor and peeked out into corridor. It was devoid of guards, and only one torch fought with the dark; it quickly fell victim to her spell.

She recalled that her target – Grand Duke's library – was situated on the same floor, two doors to the right; in the past days of her life as Fouquet, Matilda planned to rob this place – and made a detailed floor plan. Just like old times, she smiled to herself as she came out of the lounge and quietly closed its doors behind her; nobody will check it until tomorrow – and by then, she will be long gone.

The library was protected by a line-class spell – daddy let his little girl to prove herself, she thought as she defused the trap with ease. It was empty and dark inside – in these hours, Grand Duke usually was on an evening promenade with his only daughter, Beatrice.

Matilda let her eyes to adjust to the darkness and started to search shelves; ledgers, treatises on magic, several poetry collections… She stopped to think for a moment; Grand Duke surely wouldn't keep such precious document in the plain sight – it had to be stored in a strongbox of some kind, just like this one on the table.

Small phaeton carriage, driven by two white horses with Guldenhorf coat of arms on their breastplates, slowly rolled on one of the park paths. Old bearded man, dressed in ornate uniforms – His Highness Leopold II, Grand Duke of Guldenhorf – held the reins; next to him sat a young blonde girl with long twin ponytails – his only child and heir, Princess Beatrice.

'So, I take it that you will be leaving for your school tomorrow?' old Duke asked.

'Yes, Daddy! I hadn't seen Tiffania in two months!' exclaimed young noble. 'She is my best friend there… oh, but I told you that already!'

You're telling me about it on average five times a day, Leopold thought and silently sighed. He was not against this friendship – but it would be much better as if "Tiffania" was a handsome young man from a wealthy noble family.

'Well, my dear, let's get back to the manor. It's late already.'

Beatrice nodded. 'As you say, Daddy. Can I drive?'

'Of course, my dear.'

Matilda had neither the time nor the inclination to pick the lock; instead, she let her favorite crumbling spell do the trick – and stared at the object that emerged from dust cloud. It was a crystal glass tube with pentagrams engraved on its sides; inside it, was a medium-sized paper scroll, turned yellow by the time.

The Founder's Essay on Languages, as Romalian Church called it. Considered one of the first scientific tractates in Halkeginia, it described old Halkeginian dialects – and it was essential for Matilda's work on translation of Prayer Book's hidden message.

She quickly took the tube and shoved it into her backpack; now, it was time for her to escape the premises. Retracing her way back was not an option – at night, the park was patrolled by dogs; she decided to use an escape plan that she devised three years ago.

Every morning, a cart loaded with fresh food and drinks arrived at the manor; every evening, the same cart went back, loaded with empty crates and barrels. She would hide in one of the barrels; smell from the leftovers would confuse the dogs, rendering her invisible to their noses. Once she is safe, she would knock down the driver and ride to the rendezvous point where the Helix would await. She wasn't worried that schedule could change in recent years; Leopold II was known as an extremely conservative person – he almost never changed his habits of everyday routine.

She glimpsed outside; the corridor was still dark and empty – everyone at the house thought that the guards are still patrolling the second floor. Usually, the cart was in stables; the quickest way there would be through side stairs, used by servants.

The second floor was devoid of life – servants were in kitchen, preparing supper, and the guards' night shift would begin in two hours. Matilda quickly ran down the stairs; the stables' entrance was open, quiet huffs and neighs made by several horses could be heard from inside. The cart stood in the far corner, half-loaded with various containers.

'Hans? Dieter? Where are you, guys?'

One of Duke's maids, Helga, stood at the second floor corridor, looking for the pair of guards. Her task was to replace magical torches – and to her dismay, she had to do it very often.

She reached for the corridor torch and was mildly surprised when she found a handful of fine dust on the floor under the holder. Must be something wrong with enchantment, she thought as she put a new one and lighted it.

The lounge door was closed, and no light was visible in the crack under it; Helga recalled that she personally replaced lounge's two torches just two hours ago – and they were supposed to burn at least for three hours. She angrily shook her head and went inside.

Two horses rode inside the stables, with guards on their backs; both quickly dismounted, tied their animals near the drinker and went towards the side stairs – and Matilda. As they approached, she noticed that they didn't wear any armor; they were dressed in bright camisoles and white trousers, and were armed with rapiers – Duke's Honor Guard.

'Well, our duties for today are over, so…'

Both guards jumped in surprise as loud female screams filled the manor.

'What was that?'

That's it for the stealth, she thought and reached for the dart gun.

First shot struck the unsuspecting guard in the chest; he tumbled on the floor, sleeping. Second guard turned onto the sound of falling body – and got a dart in his back; second later, he joined his dreaming companion.

Matilda cursed and frantically looked around. She needed to devise a backup plan – and fast. With a corner of her eye, she glimpsed a movement outside; she leaped over one of the drinkers, trying to hide.

Grand Duke's phaeton stopped in front of the stables; Leopold got out first and held out his hand to help his daughter. Originally, they wanted to stop at the main entrance, but Beatrice insisted on checking on her favorite steed first.

As they went inside, both nobles froze when they saw their escorts lying on the floor.

'What's going on he…' Beatrice started to exclaim; she didn't have time to finish the sentence.

Matilda leaped out from her hiding spot, small dagger in her hand; she grabbed girl by one of her ponytails and put the weapon to her back.

'One wrong move – and you won't live to see another day, Princess.'

Beatrice nodded erratically, her eyes full of terror.

'One hair falls from her head – and you're dead, thief!' Grand Duke shouted furiously.

Matilda just smirked in response. 'Step away from the carriage, Daddy.'

She pressed her dagger against Beatrice's back; girl shrieked in horror. The Grand Duke flinched in fear for his daughter's life.

'Now!'

Leopold took a few steps back, angrily looking at her.

'Now, Princess, get back into the cart and take reins. If you'll do everything right – I promise that you won't be harmed.'

Beatrice climbed to the seat; Matilda sat beside her. Girl looked back at her father, with tears streaming down her cheeks.

'Daddy, help me!'

'Don't worry, my dear. That wretched thief would never escape our knights.' he said, trying to reassure his daughter.

Matilda didn't even look at him. 'Get us out of here, Princess. Go for the eastern road. Maximum speed.'

Beatrice nodded and whipped the horses.

As the carriage rode away, Leopold ran outside and took out his wand; he then launched a fireball up into the air – a signal for his army to muster.

Minutes later, twenty men from his royal guard squadron rode through the park and right to him – the vanguard of his mage knights; he knew that messengers were already sent to alert dragon riders and the foot soldiers.

'Captain, my daughter was taken hostage by a thief; they went onto the eastern tract. Catch them as fast as you can. And do not dare to use magic – or you can harm my Beatrice!'

Knight spurred his horse and signaled his unit to follow.

The carriage raced at the top speed, bouncing on a rough road; Beatrice clung to the reins, trying not to fall. Matilda did not let her out of sight; sure, she thought, Beatrice was just a spoiled noble girl who was scared to death – but that didn't mean that she couldn't try something against her captor.

Sounds of many hoofs came behind; she turned and saw Duke's knights, twenty mages clad in heavy armor. Beatrice had to slow down before turning to avoid rollover – and due to this, the knights were gradually reducing the gap.

'Drive faster!'

'My daddy will catch you and boil you alive!' Beatrice answered in a trembling voice, trying not to cry again.

Matilda considered to summon earth golem – but quickly dropped this idea. She will have to keep golem in sight to control it; and while monster would deal with knights, reinforcements would surely come – including dragon riders.

The only option left was to call her own dragon.

'Watch the road.' Matilda said and produced a little black box with several buttons and a stick protruding from one of its ends.

'W-w-what is it? W-what are you doing?'

Green-haired woman just smiled to her hostage and pushed one of the buttons.

'Sea Serpent, come in!'

Ka-29 slowly flew over the hills, its blue sides gleaming in setting sun. Misha and Marat quietly admired the views; there was nobody to attempt to attack them – and they had all means to deal with anybody who was. Their sole passenger was somewhere inside the lush forest that was visible at the distance; she said that she would contact them when needed. Pilot checked the fuel gauge; there were enough for another three hours of flight.

Suddenly, Matilda's voice sounded in his headset. 'Sea Serpent, come in!'

'Wicked Witch, is that you? Come in, over.'

'Sea Serpent, I'm out, but I'm chased by the royal guards! Can you do something with them?'

Misha sighed; it was impossible to teach this woman how to maintain proper radio discipline. He quickly scanned their surroundings and noticed a narrow, unpaved tract that was snaking around hills; on it, he could see a small, rapidly moving dot – Matilda's carriage. Behind it was a large dust cloud – the medieval posse. The tract led to the bridge – a small wooden structure with a pair of central stone supports that was placed across the shallow rivulet. A plan started to form in his head.

'Okay, there is a bridge ahead, go for it and try to increase the gap between you and them.'

'You'd better think of something, and quick!' Matilda yelped.

Misha pulled the cyclic stick back; Helix slowed down and went into hover in a kilometer away from the bridge. He then flipped several switches, activating weapons. Due to weight of the Warlock hardware, they had to remove S-8 rocket pods; all what left were eight AT-6 Spirals – supersonic radio-guided anti-tank missiles.

'Marat, aim at the bridge. Let our girl pass first, then blow it up.'

Gunner leaned to the gunsight. 'Yeah, I see it. Here's our witch…'

As Beatrice slowed down before turning, Matilda grabbed her by the shoulders.

'Well, it's time for us to part ways, Princess!'

She snatched the reins and pushed Beatrice off the carriage. Girl was lucky – she fell right into roadside bushes; couple of bruises and torn dress was all what she got.

With a heavy sway, Matilda's carriage cleared the last turn and darted to the bridge; several seconds later, its wheels rattled on the boardwalk. She heard a familiar sound of twin blades and whipped horses hard, keeping in mind Misha's words.

Using knobs on his control stick, Marat placed the target mark on the support column and put his finger on the trigger. '…And that would be her escort.'

The posse raced past Beatrice, who had just got out of the bush. Their captain, a young Wind mage, waved an order to three of his subordinates to help her; the rest continued their pursuit, no longer kept from using their magic.

'Guards, execute her!' Beatrice shouted as she ran out into the road; knights already rode on the bridge.

Unfamiliar sound drew her attention; she raised her head – and saw a small blue dot up in the sky. Suddenly, a faint white smoke trail separated from it.

'Firing!' Marat shouted as he pressed the trigger.

With a loud hiss, rocket motor activated; Spiral ejected from its tube and whooshed to the bridge. The strobe light on its tail started blinking rapidly, sending signals back to the helicopter. One kilometer was a point-blank distance for AT-6; the missile cleared it in a three seconds.

Captain slightly outpaced the rest of the knights – and already cleared the bridge when Spiral arrived. He raised his hand, urging his men to hurry – but it was too late for them.

The missile hit the central support; its five-kilogram warhead detonated, crushing heavy stones into fine rubble – designed to defeat modern tank armor, it went through sandstone like a hot knife through butter. The bridge swayed heavily from the blast; although the wooden deck protected knights from the fragments, couple of horses lost their footing and stumbled, throwing their riders off.

'Damn, these guys surely know how to build a good bridge.' Marat said as he slightly corrected his aim.

'Firing!'

Second Spiral went off in its first and last flight.

Losing one of its support columns, the bridge was now tilting to the left; long cracks rapidly developed alongside it. The knights tried their best to clear the bridge and not to fall down. All of them failed to notice the second AT-6.

It crashed into the bridge deck – right in the middle of the posse. Wooden and stone debris, mixed with maimed bodies, flew in all directions. Half of the knights along with their horses were killed instantly; the wounded, many of them with lost limbs, bleed profusely. But this was not the end.

Deafened by the first explosion, Beatrice gaped in horror as all what left of the bridge hurtled down into the river along with the dead and wounded, forming an ugly smoking dam; the rivulet went red from the knights' blood. There was no chance to save anyone – all wounded turned dead in the next couple of minutes, either from blood loss or by drowning.

Beatrice and survived knights raised their heads and watched in amazement as mysterious blue dragon, which just destroyed the bridge and killed some of the best Guldenhorf royal guards, flew above them with a loud thumping sound; it then banked right and went along the road.

Young captain was deeply saddened by loss – but he also was enraged by it; he spurred his horse and resumed pursuit. He vowed to avenge deaths of his men, and the only way to achieve it was to find the thief and her beast – and kill them both.

The road became worse on the other side of the rivulet – trees and bushes gave way to cliffs and rocks; Matilda slowed, granting some rest to the sweating horses.

Air Bolt spell hit the nearby rock, smashing it into pieces; she turned her head – and saw the captain as he cleared the turn, wand in his hand, spurring his steed as hard as he could. Second spell went behind the carriage, hitting the road and sending small stones around.

Matilda whipped her horses, trying to regain some speed; she smiled as she heard familiar twin blades coming closer.

Ka-29 flew around the cliff just in time to see the scene.

'Looks like our damsel are still in distress!'

Misha pressed on a rudder pedal, yawing right; the helicopter now flew sideways, its nose facing the cliff – an easy trick for Kamov helicopters. Marat grinned and reached for gun controls.

'Not for long.'

Hatch on the Helix nose moved down, revealing a four-barreled machine gun – the GShG, Soviet counterpart to the famous Minigun, capable of firing at six thousand rounds per minute. Marat took hold of the control handle and aimed at the knight.

'Bye-bye, sucker!'

With a loud buzz, GShG spat out a short burst of green tracers. In the same moment, captain launched Air Bolt into Helix.

He didn't have time to aim properly and the spell went wide, but Misha instinctively yanked the handle, causing Marat to miss. Bullets went in front of the target, raising small dust fountains and striking sparks from the stones.

'Fuck! Keep it steady!' Marat cursed and adjusted his gunsight.

Captain took aim at the helicopter.

But GShG's bullets were faster than his chant.

The burst hit unfortunate knight all across the chest. 7.62-mm slugs pierced his armor with ease, splattering blood all around. Several shots hit his horse; it stumbled and fell on the ground, jolting in agony. Captain's dead body, still clutching the reins, crashed beside.

Matilda looked back just in time to see captain's demise; she shuddered at the sight of weapon's sheer power. Her radio cackled and came to life.

'Wicked Witch, this is Sea Serpent, you're all clear, I repeat, you're all clear.'

'Thanks.'

'I see a small opening ahead, proceed there for extraction.'

Ten minutes later, Matilda sat in Helix cargo bay, working on the Warlock. The portable version was far easier to operate than its big counterpart; all that was needed to return to Earth was to push the return button – the device was pre-programmed with coordinated of Galvanov's base.

She signaled for the cockpit. 'Stop the machine.'

Marat frowned. 'It hovers, damn it, not stops!'

'Whatever'.

Warlock probe was mounted on the port wing, in place of rocket pod; as Matilda pressed the button, bright flash formed on its end – and the World Door opened in twenty meters in front of the helicopter. Misha smiled as he saw familiar Kamchatka shoreline, washed by Sea of Okhotsk.

Half an hour later, hills that surrounded Grand Duke's manor were full of life – nobles and commoners together frantically searched for the daredevil woman who dared to rob their ruler and kidnap their young princess. Luftpanzers of Guldenhorf, one of the best dragon riders in all Halkeginia, coordinated their efforts from above. Search continued for three days – but ultimately proved useless.

The Sea Serpent of Guldenhorf, as Beatrice called the Helix, vanished without a trace.


Author's notes: Who needs an earth golem when you have a helicopter gunship?