Bridge


    Accepted. I know the object you want. And there is no order field in that city, so wait for the gift in the usual place. - Shadow. - The note is in its usual place.


    "Demons! I should have asked about the tail!” Splinter shouted suddenly.


    "Do you think she had anti-tail ointment?" Gloomeye asked.


    "I''ll never get rid of it if I keep forgetting it exists," the girl replied.


    "Then it''s not such a big problem."


    "Once again you''re trying to ruin my complaints about life with your logic," Splinter suddenly looked carefully at the guy and added, "and you don''t have one at all!"


    They hopped up to the Steel Collar military camp, which was similar to the one near Capital. But there were the Mourneers here too. They were immediately distinguished from the mercenaries by their discipline. Or rather, their lack of it. The mercenaries were either polishing their weapons or training, all in full uniform, including sharp collars. Gloomeye suspected they even slept in them, which seemed very unsafe. But the Mourneers could lie down (which they did right on the ground), some of them playing dice or cards.


    Beyond them was another wide scar, or perhaps it was a pre-Break chasm, crossed by a wide stone bridge that could easily have carried ten people shoulder to shoulder. The bridge was secured with large iron hooks to the edges of the ground below. Gloomeye saw no evidence that humans could build like this after the Break. On the other side of the bridge was a tall castle with houses all around it, surrounded by a high stone wall (something like a village smoothly turning into a small town).


    "There aren''t enough spiked plates and swinging guillotines on the bridge to let us know we''re not welcome," said Splinter, lying on her stomach on a small hillock and looking out over the camp.


    "We''ll have to go around the scar, although if they built the bridge here, it''s the best place the builders could find to cross. Which is very bad for us," Gloomy said, lying down beside her. Drat was also lying down, but just resting.


    "No, you know, there aren''t enough megawasps in the air to complete the picture," Splinter decided to interrupt the conversation and continue the previous thought.


    "We can try to disguise ourselves as the Mourneers, their uniforms are perfect for that," Gloomeye continued. "Only they''re standing here, obviously because they''re not allowed in."


    Suddenly, a large shadow obscured the light of Dayorb, and the sound of many wings flapping could be heard. Next to them, Almcatcher landed on her large bird alm.


    "You? And I immediately thought I recognised those dots below," the Mourneer jumped down from Simurgh.


    "Almcatcher?" Gloomy stood up and wanted to add "What are you doing here?" or "What wind brought you here?" but that would be silly. Of course she''s doing what the rest of the Mourneers do here - following orders.


    The cat slipped out from under Almcatcher''s clothes and plopped down on the ground.


    "What, there are no good hands in Truth?" Splinter rose. "Considering they live in Murder City, I''m not surprised."


    " Droplet didn''t want to leave me. I honestly didn''t use my powers on her," the Mourneer seriously began to justify herself, but then it''s her voice became serious: "So Alm is definitely dead?"


    Gloomeye felt embarrassed, as if he was the one who had stalked and tried to kill her friend instead of the other way around, but he didn''t lie:


    "Valkali killed him."


    "After the ritual, he changed, became a fanatic. I said it would ruin him, but he was determined to sacrifice not only his previous life, but this one as well," Almcatcher grew sad, and decided to change the subject. "Would you like to cross the bridge? Simurgh can take you straight to the gate.”


    "You want to help us?" Gloomeye looked up from stroking Droplet on his hands.


    "Otherwise you''ll do something stupid like put on our uniform. Who needs your nonsense? Not us, not you."


    ***


    "We won''t allow any armed groups until we know where our people are," said the captain of the castle guard. He had a receding hairline and a fleshy face more suited to a blacksmith than a warrior. He was dressed in plain iron armour, like the soldiers behind him, only the helmet was not on his head, but in his hands.


    "We have a war there," the Mourneer he had argued with on the bridge pointed somewhere behind the castle. "We''re making sacrifices, even for you."


    "And we let you pass freely. But now we learn that you work with slavers and their mercenaries. And after you passed through, we started losing people. No other troops pass through here. Unwillingly, we wonder if we should support your side."


    "We''re fighting mages, you bastard! I repeat:  they are witchcraft magicians! Did you hear that, you degenerate?" the Mourneer was really angry.


    "And you? Do you think we don''t know that you''re all wildlings? You are not allowed in Bridge. The rest of the people are free to pass through," the captain put on his helmet.


    The Mourneer took out his folding spear and readied it for battle.


    "The rest of the people are here!" a voice called from above. Three people (or rather, two people and a rat) were gliding on pegs from a huge bird alm that hung in the air.


    "What does that mean, Almcatcher?" the Mourneer cocked his head.


    "They really need to get through, Centurion. If not for the sake of the common people, what are we sacrificing for?" came the answer from above.


    The captain nodded to the soldiers to let the descenders pass.


    "Are you letting them through? There''s a huge rat among them!" the Centurion shouted at the captain.


    "They don''t have the veil of mourning, the steel collars, or the rope in their hands that leads to a human collar. That makes them welcome guests in our fortress," the captain explained harshly.


    "You have one day to open a passage for us. After that, we will consider you accomplices of the Court of Madness, with all the consequences," the Mourneer turned around, but then looked up again. "And with you, Almcatcher, I will also have a talk."


    "Put seeds in your pockets before a battle, we need a garden here," the captain threw after him.


    ***


    "You will visit the sisters first. Tell them why you want to be on the frontline between the Mourneers and the madmen. And why that Mourneer helped you," the captain said over his shoulder as he led the group towards the castle.


    "Is that necessary? You said..." Gloomeye followed him.


    "All I said there was to declare our intentions to this Mourneer. It is called diplomacy."


    "Then you understand that we want to get out of your fortress as soon as possible, because with your excellent diplomacy it will soon be razed to the ground," Splinter said.


    The captain stopped, turned and pointed a finger at the girl:


    "She will have to keep quiet at the reception. You will be meeting the noble ladies, and the last thing a commoner needs is to show how witty she is."


    "I advise you to keep your hand over my mouth in advance, I know myself," Splinter was not offended.


    Inside the walls, between the one-storey stone houses, plants grew, people and alms scurried about. It was relatively clean and peaceful. The group turned off the main road that led from the bridge to the other exit of the walls and headed for the castle.


    From the square base of the castle rose a tall tower of hewn stone, topped by other pointed turrets. There were many guards and servants inside. The windows were multicoloured, which coloured the light that came through them. Gloomeye had never seen so much furniture in his life: chairs and tables that also had something on them ("Well, this is completely superfluous!" Gloomy thought, forgetting that the weight of his bag was due to the many gold items inside), paintings on the walls, armour, red flags with a schematic representation of a bridge - in general, a lot of things. It seems that the people here did not even know about the Break.


    The captain led them into a large, spacious hall with dining tables and two identical thrones on a small dais. In addition to guards at the walls and scurrying servants, there were two women in the hall, dressed similarly to Rexana. One, with a black braid slung over her shoulder, stood with one hand on one of the thrones while the other hand toyed with a small knife, twirling it between her fingers. The other was an exact replica of the first, only slightly plumper. She sat at the table, eating.


    "Lady Guinevere. Lady Uthera. These three wanted to cross your bridge, and they were helped by a Mourneer on a huge bird," the captain got down on one knee and tried to bow the company as well. He only succeeded with Splinter and Drat. Gloomeye pulled away, bowing his head only slightly. His father and grandfather had bowed to the nobles just to see how valuable their boots were.


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    "Nice to meet you, I''m Gloomeye and this is Splinter and Drat. Drat on the right, and on the left..." Gloomeye glanced at Splinter and immediately realised he was wrong in what he had decided to clarify, "...and on the left is not Drat."


    "Welcome to Bridge, I am Guinevere Pontis and this is my sister, Uthera Pontis. We rule this fortress," the plump sister smiled pleasantly.


    "Why have you brought these filthy peasants into the Great Hall?" the slim sister lifted her nose haughtily.


    "Uthera, it''s not polite to call people dirty to their faces, even if they are dirty. And they''re clearly not peasants," Guinevere tried to shame her sister.


    "Why have you brought these unclean vagrants into the Great Hall?" Uthera corrected herself.


    "They are going to Hreb, not running from it. I thought it suspicious," the captain hesitated.


    "We have business there. I can''t tell you the details. And I''d rather not name my employer," Gloomy realised as he spoke that he wasn''t helping himself at all.


    But Guinevere disagreed:


    "You see, Elfred, it''s not suspicious at all. Now that we''ve settled the matter, you might as well stay with us. Be our guests for a while at least."


    "Stop embarrassing us! Do you remember how angry the father used to be when you brought little animals here? And now you''ve switched to low-born humans?" Uthera was filled with cold rage, the knife in her hand spinning at double speed.


    "It''s you who shame us. The father is no more. And stop playing with the knife," Guinevere showed she could be angry too. "Mala, give our guests rooms, they''re empty for nothing."


    Uthera lifted her nose so proudly, as if she were the one who supported the surrounding reality, and if she lowered it, everything would collapse.


    "I''m sorry to interrupt," Splinter said, "but are we going to ignore the fact that the Mourneers are camped nearby and preparing to storm us?"


    "Don''t worry, Splinter, right?" the plump lady reassured her. "We are protected by powerful elven magic."


    Gloomeye looked around, but none of the servants or the guards reacted to "elven magic" as if it wasn''t a curse. It also made him uneasy that Elfred had called Simurgh a bird instead of an alm, in the old way. But now he understood what was wrong with this place. Not only did they live here as if there had been no Break, but they also thought in the old way.


    "One last question, if I may," the guy said.


    Uthera shook her head, but Guinevere nodded, which Gloomeye took as permission:


    "Did you have people kidnapped after the Mourneers went through here? But how exactly? Were they just grabbed as they passed? And that was during the day?"


    "What are you trying to say?" Elfred pressed.


    "It means that someone is helping them, if them, from here in the fortress. Maybe it''s not even Mourneers, so there''s no need for the siege," Gloomy finished quickly.


    "So get on with it," Guinevere said happily. "Elfred, get them some help."


    Uthera rolled her eyes and muttered:


    "Let the peasants come to the table... If only the father were alive..."


    ***


    "This is where they lived," Philip said, opening the door to a house with a metal thingy. He was a young guard assigned by the captain to help with the investigation.


    Gloomeye and Drat started looking at things (and Splinter just sat on the floor), which didn''t take long because of their small numbers. A flattened cloth on dried plants, a stool with two clay cups and a pit of ashes. On the floor was a small, dirty cloth man that looked suspiciously like a cut-off piece of the floor cloth. Gloomy picked it up:


    "What is it?"


    "It''s a doll, a child''s toy. A woman lived here who adopted an orphan."


    "Squeak!" Drat found a trapdoor under the cloth.


    Under questioning eyes, Philip explained:


    "It''s a secret way out of town. It is in every house."


    "In the event of a siege of the town, eh? Then it''s of no interest to us," Splinter said sarcastically.


    "Probably. But I don''t remember anyone using it. We''re well fortified, so why should we run?”


    Gloomeyed and the rat tried to open the secret passage, but it wouldn''t budge. There wasn''t even a handle.


    "It''s useless. Passageways only open from the castle, and only noble blood can use the mechanism. That is, only Lady Guinevere or Lady Uther. This is a reliable tool, magic!"


    The only unexplored place was the ash pit. Gloomy didn''t ignore it.


    "And these ashes are from what? It''s not firewood or plants."


    "It looks like parchment. Orders are written on it in the castle and given to the peasants to carry out. Lady Uthera is very proud that her peasants can read," and the guard was proud of Uthera.


    "Were the houses searched after the abductions?" Gloomeye keeps asking.


    "Of course, the captain has checked it himself," Philip said.


    "I have news for you. Good or bad - it depends on your revolutionary mood. One or both of the sisters have been selling people to the Mourneers. They sent them down a secret passage, where they were captured, and then the captain went round the houses destroying the evidence. At least that''s the only explanation I can give on the basis of this evidence."


    Philip started to draw his sword.


    "Really?" Gloomeye surprised.


    "I took an oath to serve the Pontis family," the guard said grimly.


    "Did this family take any vows? Like to protect their people? Otherwise, it''s stupid to keep oaths for those who break them."


    Philip thought for a moment, then pushed his sword back in its sheath:


    "That''s why the captain made such eyes when he ordered me to help you. ''Help you''. And which of the sisters?"


    "I think it''s Guinevere," Gloomeye admitted.


    "Guinevere!?" Splinter and Philip shouted at the same time, and Drat squeaked.


    "Guinevere isn''t the one with the knife," Splinter said, thinking the guy had got it all wrong.


    "I know. But in every crime investigation story Storyteller tells, all the criminals are ones an investigator has met before. So I tried to narrow down the circle of acquaintances here. And if you have to choose between two suspects, where one is hostile and angry and the other is friendly, then it is always friendly, so that the listener is deceived. As if friendliness prevents criminal intent, or can''t be faked," Gloomeye could see that his authority in the eyes of others was rapidly diminishing. So he decided to save it with another piece of evidence: "She''s also plump, so she doesn''t know the measure in food, and she doesn''t have the willpower to resist her vices. She may have succumbed to the urge to sell her people for money."


    But it didn''t help. Respect quickly turned to disappointment, and the guard seemed to think he was sheathing his sword too quickly.


    "But why did she order the Mourneers not to be allowed in?" he asked.


    Gloomeye thought.


    "She doesn''t care much for them. Is your defense really that good?" the guy finally asked.


    "Her ancestors nearly went bankrupt paying the elves for magical protection. And for creating the abyss. And everything still works, because the Break didn''t affect the fortress or the abyss in any way, though I heard that the earth was like waves in a stormy ocean."


    "Wait, did their ancestors create the abyss? What for?" Gloomy asked.


    "What ''what for''? To charge a fee to cross the bridge," Philip said, surprised at the lack of understanding.


    "This is not a declaration of war. This is diplomacy," Gloomeye had a revelation. "Guinevere simply wants to raise the price of passage."


    ***


    When the company arrived at the gate to the bridge, where there was a peg stables nearby (in which they thoughtlessly left their pegs (though they were helped to a decision by the order of the commander of the crowd of soldiers and the crowd of soldiers themselves nearby)), the Mourneers were already there. The sisters were talking to the Centurion as his men passed. Guinevere was glad to see Gloomeye:


    "So we didn''t have to fight. I always say that diplomacy will save this fallen world."


    "We''ve just finished our investigation. Do you want to know who sells their subjects?" Gloomy asked. "Oh, I gave you a surprise ahead of time."


    Guinevere''s complacent expression faded, and she turned to face the Mourneer:


    "Did you recognise them? Are these your criminals? How wickedly they have taken advantage of our hospitality. Shame on them. So there''s a bounty on their heads?"


    But he didn''t have time to answer, for Uthera was loudly indignant:


    "Ginny, what does that mean? Didn''t you hear that tramp blatantly accuse you? Are you going to leave it like this?"


    "Underground passages! She ordered them to go down to the underground passages where the Mourneers were waiting for them!" Gloomeye shouted, calculating the distance to the peg stables.


    "Ginny? If this is true, then these people don''t belong here!" Uthera took a step towards her sister.


    Ginny''s face changed from that of a kind aunt to that of a wicked witch:


    "Do you believe the smelly plebeians now? The father would have been disappointed."


    "Enough!" the Centurion decided to end the family drama with something more dramatic. "The Prelate is tired of your Old World games. It''s new now. That''s why we''re taking this fortress."


    Guinevere''s eyes bulged:


    "You wouldn''t dare! We are of noble blood, but you are not!"


    "Please contact the Old Council. Ah, yes, it''s gone, like most of the realms," said the Centurion with grim satisfaction, but then he noticed Gloomeye, Splinter and Drat slowly moving towards the pegs. "Stop them! The Hand needs them for some reason."


    Meanwhile, Uthera took a few steps back, holding out her hand with a ring in which a jewel glittered brightly. Gloomeye, like everyone else nearby, felt himself being forcefully pulled to the ground. His vision began to darken until it was completely black.


    Gloomy came to as he was being carried on someone''s back, their arms wrapped around his legs. The bearer''s back and arms were quite small, and the bearer gave off a pleasant smell, albeit with a hint of sweat. As most of his consciousness returned to Gloomeye, he suddenly realised who was carrying him.


    "Uthera?" he whispered.


    She stopped instantly and threw off the living weight.


    "To you, I am Lady Uthera, a heavy commoner. And what do you eat in the outside world that makes you so fat? I thought you fought for every crumb." Lady Uther''s hair is dishevelled and her clothes are soaked with sweat.


    "Are you saving me?" Gloomeye stood up and rubbed his bruised tailbone.


    "Of course I''m saving you. It is my duty as a ruler to take care of the commoners, so that the commoners will take care of my power." Uthera sounded annoyed at having to explain such obvious things. "If you can go, then let''s go. I really hope you didn''t pretend to sleep while I carried you, you filthy vagabond."


    "Thank you. But where are the others? Um, Lady Uthera." Gloomeye looked around. They were in a dark corridor lit by pale lights hanging in the air.


    "I got the others out before you, of course. First my sister, then my people, then the girl with the rat, then you." Uthera walked down the corridor.


    Gloomeye hurried after his saviour:


    "And the pegs..."


    She glanced back and gave the guy a look of displeasure and weariness:


    "The pegs for big men."


    To prove her point, Raven soon caught up with them, three guards lying unconscious on top of him like saddlebags. The peg had been driven by a frightened resident.


    As Gloomeye stepped out into the open beyond Bridge walls, he saw one or two hundred people. Some of them were lying on the ground, others were sitting above them. A woman with a wounded child in her arms ran up to the lady as she stepped into the light.


    "My lady! My son..." she spoke, fighting back tears.


    "Useless peasants, can''t you stay unharmed?" Uthera cut the sleeve of her dress with her knife and began to bind the baby in his mother''s arms.


    Captain Elfred came to her and knelt down:


    "Lady Uthera, Lady Guinevere has come to her senses," waved his hand at Guinevere who was sitting on the ground. She was sitting up straight on her ass, her legs stretched out in front of her, her eyes fixed on nothing and she looked dazed.


    "I hope so, Captain, because she''s been out of it for a long time," Uthera said, still taking care of the baby. "Check again with a good slap in the face."


    "I didn''t want to, but you know, Lady Uthera, my daughter is your sister''s servant." Elfred stood up, walked over to Guinevere, took off his iron gauntlet and gave his lady a good slap across the face, knocking her to her side.


    "Now arrest her, Captain," Uthera ordered. There was no emotion in her voice other than her usual arrogance.


    Splinter and Drat approached Gloomeye, leading the pegs. The girl took her Raven and handed the ropes of Grassy to Gloomy.


    At that moment, the fortress wall was shaken by an explosion. Uthera looked in that direction and said to Gloomy:


    "You''d better go where you''re going, there''s no time for you now, vagabonds," she pulled the ring off her finger and threw it at Gloomeye. "Here''s the investigation fee. There''s no more magic, but you can sell it."


    Gloomeye caught the ring with a large, dull, cracked gem.