Part 3 Chapter 11

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It is wrong to think of the Guardsmen only as fighters.

Human rulers, not all, but many, turn some of their elite guards into perfect killing machines. They pump their bodies with elixirs, put them through expensive rituals, and subject them to a mental correction that allows them to discard the body's natural limitations if necessary. Bodyguards pay for strength, dexterity, and loyalty with a drop in intellect and lifespan, which, however, is considered an acceptable price.

Vampires are few. For vampires, narrow specialization is unacceptable.

"So the guardsmen of the Night Mistress possessed skills that didn't seem to belong to them at all. They knew how to investigate crimes, knew the basics of blacksmithing, and could lead a small convoy from one end of the country to the other. Of course, they knew the basics of various temple doctrines and the available magic. It was a background study" Reggie, for example, was often assigned to guard Maitre Hastin's students, and gradually he picked up the theory from them, just to understand what they were saying.

Of Lord Latham's twenty subordinates, only two had been with him from the beginning, Reggie and Vantal. Many died, some were wounded incompatible with continued service, and some decided to move to a quieter position. The best sensor and the best searcher remained, and in time they grew to be commanders of their own units.

When word got out that Lady Cache was to travel to the northern foothills, Reggie's five were naturally assigned to accompany her.

Usually, the guardsmen preferred to travel without an entourage. Yes, it is easier in the company of human servants - a voluntary source of blood at their side, they also take on interaction with innkeepers, and officials and in general make life a lot easier. After-life. At the same time, people are not always able to maintain the right speed. And as they grow older, their bloodlust weakens and it becomes easier to bear. Older vampires, standing in the second stage of development, can hold back a week without strain, as long as they don't have to actively witchcraft. The time is quite realistic to stretch if you know some mystical practices or have a supply of elixirs at hand.

Unfortunately, despite all her talents, Lady Caché was still considered a junior vampire. And, speaking of the magician, it should be particularly clarified that it is "considered" and exactly "vampire". Like most magicians, she was actively developing her energy, so her relatively young age of over a hundred years did not prevent her from getting some of the abilities inherent in the second step. For example, the need for daytime sleep was not particularly acute for her compared to her peers. The sun only burned her, not instantly turning her into a flaming torch and allowing her to run for cover.

As for terminology, now only those who rose from death on their own were called risens. There were fewer of them with each passing century, and it was possible one day they would disappear altogether. True, this theory was contradicted by the presence of Seven Rivers, the White Bone Oasis, and some other lands, where the dead continued to return to un-life often, so maybe they would not disappear. In any case, the community of sentient undead was now more than half replenished by chicks, that is, children of older vampires. And they were called chicks either when they were very young, or by specifying, "chick of such-and-such," but they had never invented a separate name. At one time the term "converted" was used by analogy, but it somehow didn't catch on.

As the youngest chick of Maitre Hustin, Caché took much from her progenitor, and her careful training allowed her to develop the skills she had acquired during the rebirth. Nevertheless, she was still young, and so needed blood, preferably once every couple of days. Eating at inns from other travelers or servants increased the risk of exposure, and besides, it was unknown if they would have the opportunity to stay among humans when they arrived at the site. And it was inappropriate for a young lady to travel exclusively in the company of men. As a consequence, she was accompanied by three mortals - two maids and a coachman who was in charge of the horses.

"Mr. Reggie," the fact that Caché was sitting in the creaking carriage, behind thick curtains, did not prevent her from talking to the sergeant on horseback beside her. "Why did they send us at all? I mean, you and me? There must be some special reason for sending five guardsmen to the frontiers of the kingdom."

The sorceress chose to remain silent about herself. After their failed attempt to explore the Necropolis, their trio was swamped with dull, routine work, from which they had, for the time being, successfully shirked. Making elixirs, calculating and performing rituals, casting webs or shackles of allegiance on the mind, and teaching at the School of Paths were just a few of the things they had to do in the past month.

Many things were solely the responsibility of the humble community of vampire mages. Both for safety reasons (human servants, even the infinitely loyal ones, were not told everything) and for the reason of possibility. The energy is different, and some ways of witchcraft are available only to the undead. In addition, elixirs and artifacts made by vampires were more effective in the hands of other vampires, so Maitre Hustin always had a pile of various requests from heads of communities on his desk. They were slow to get through - there weren't enough mages.

There were a total of eight vampires, possessing not only racial but also ordinary magical abilities. Subtract the Elders Hustin and Latham, who were engaged in administrative duties, and that left only six masters. For more than a thousand and a half tribesmen, overpowered by requests and, in the vast majority, willing to pay serious money to get their wishes fulfilled. Not surprisingly, mages were in great demand.

A firm understanding of their importance was seamlessly superimposed on the irritation of not being able to engage in tasks that interested them personally. No, Mistress encouraged to research, but she demanded to provide the community with what it needed first. As a result, almost all mages had a grumpy, feisty, and sarcastic temper.

Against their backdrop, Caché, who respected the much older Guardsmen than she did, seemed the epitome of politeness.

"Elder Kalderan's office did the original reconnaissance, but they couldn't get to the excavation, Lady Caché," the sergeant replied. "There's an entire city there, if you don't know, abandoned during the Plague. Most of the buildings have gone underground, the locals don't go there, they think it's cursed. For some reason, the Saints are very interested in one of the temples. It's up to us to find out what they discovered. They sent at least four "Foundrymen" there."

"Wow," the magician was impressed. "I bet they've got alarms, too!"

"We're counting on you, Lady Caché," Reggie nodded.

Ignoring the questioning glances of the maids, who could not hear her sergeant's answer, Caché leaned back on the bench and nervously tapped her hand with her fan. It was a disgusting habit from which she could not and would not get rid, for it gave her a more human impression. Foundrymen was a slang term for a member of the Archives and Development Department of the Holy Order of the Fire Saints; in other words, a theoretical mage. Or magicians-archeologists; they had to act in such a capacity as well.

After the great catastrophe that destroyed the old world, almost all the gods stopped responding to human calls, and those who did respond did so reluctantly. Who was left? Few. The Lord of Hell, whose adepts often organized bloody hecatombs out of a desire to serve their lord, thus were under special control of the authorities. The Lord of Good Peace seldom condescended to his admirers and also demanded that they adhere to a strict moral code. Derkana the Changing, intervened in the affairs of the world only in response to requests from members of the ruling dynasty. And the deities of the clan cults of ancient families, who also helped only their own.

The common man also needs a common god. One that does not require much and has a real return on the sacrifices.

The founders and supreme shepherds of the first cults were magicians. They came from noble families, who managed to understand a little bit about the changing laws of the world, and put the crumbs of available opportunities at their service. If they had remained mere mages, they would have been burned or killed in any other available way. But priests were treated differently by the crowd. Gradually the cults grew, gaining power, their leaders sought and found functioning rituals, learned to channel the faith of mortals into a single direction, a single goal... The gods, at first no more than an abstraction, were becoming a reality. The collective unconscious of the mass of believers created supernatural beings, fleshing out the invented symbols.

The Sacred Fire, worshipped by the saints, did not arise from anything. Its predecessors and progenitors are the cults of various hypostases of the Arcote Heart of the Flame, as well as the most ancient mysteries of Salline the Benefactor. Strange as it may seem, the primitive fertility rites continued to work, albeit with a great loss of effectiveness, so Salline was still revered among the peasants. It was from the Life-Giver that the fire priests learned some useful practices. They continued to do so to this day, to the greater glory of Fire, of course.

The main developers of the new-old rituals, prayers, and appeals to their deity gathered in the Archives Department, and could often be spotted in abandoned ruins or even in cemeteries, studying long-forgotten writings. Because of their similar interests, conflicts between founders and the Dark Guild, or founders and vampires, occurred constantly. Caché, of course, had also faced ideological opponents before. She didn't like the process, so now, after Reggie's words, she wasn't expecting anything good from the upcoming meeting.

"The foundrymen are waiting for us on the spot," she informed the maids. "At least four of them, full-fledged, ranked ones."

"There was no grief," grumbled the elderly Sobire. "What do they want?"

"Probably the same as us. Trying to dig up something useful."

"Are we going to fight again? When I think of Phyrexen, my heart starts to race."

Don't lie," Caché threatened with her fan. "There's nothing wrong with your heart. You can't breathe because you eat a lot of rolls, you're too heavy, and the fat is hanging down your sides. When are you going on a diet?"

"When we come back home."

"That's what you always promise!"

"Forgive me, Lady Caché," the junior in both age and position, Lesica, cautiously intervened in the altercation. "But if foundrymen are working there, they must have guards. Why are there so few of us, then?"

"Well, first of all, no one is going to fight. We'll come quietly, see what they've got, maybe copy or take what we need, and leave unnoticed. In any case, we'll try very hard to make it work. Secondly, we should take you to Guardsman training. Just so you know what they can do. One squad for the security is more than enough, they can't be stopped except by the highest magic or the prayer of a high priest."

"But foundry workers fit both definitions."

"Exactly! That's why Sobire is angry."

"It's not that I'm angry," the maid corrected her. "but I remember what happened the last time. We were nearly caught by the whole Province, the garrisons alerted, and we had to hole up in the swamp for a month. Barely got out of there. Well, Mr. Reggie won't take any chances, he knows his duties well."

In the vampire community, personal servants had long since become a very special caste, with unique rights and responsibilities. They could speak on behalf of their masters, an attempt on their behalf was tantamount to an attempt on a vampire, with the aggravating circumstance of the frailty of human bodies, and they were allowed access to secrets that even the leaders of powerful cults couldn't know. The explanation for this extraordinary position of mortals was simple: loyalty.

The close servants, or, as they were called, the day retinue, had always come from families that had served the Masters of the Night for generations. From childhood, they were imbued with the idea that giving their blood to vampires was normal. They did not see them as monsters, and they saw the possibility of associating their lives with them as something between a higher good and a well-made career. In the worldview of the would-be intimates, religion was firmly intertwined with knowledge of the realities of undead society, so they revered but did not idealize vampires. In agreeing to the bonding ritual, the suites imagined their future fate fully, without illusions.

The mortal, bound to a vampire, received a piece of his master's power, creating in return a kind of imprinting, only at a deeper level. Servants loved their masters. But this did not prevent them from seeing their masters' faults and even, depending on the relationship, from scolding them for their faults. Given their long lifespans - being a member of the day's retinue allowed them to live up to two hundred years and remain active - some of the retinues treated vampires as if they were their children, and behaved accordingly.

Of course, there were disadvantages, too, which meant that not all vampires approached mortals. The violent severing of the bond by the untimely death of a servant was hard on the master, affecting his body and setting him back for decades. If a servant fell into the hands of the priests alive, they could put a curse on his master, or simply find his whereabouts to kill him. Many were unwilling to take the risk.

Sobire had been close to Caché since she was a child, and their bond was almost spontaneous; the ritual merely cemented and strengthened the existing one. She secretly considered the vampires her daughter. She allowed herself to criticize, argue, and in general, did not see Caché as a superior being, sent down to earth by the will of the Dark God to serve as a guide to His will. Her grumbling was taken for granted by Cache.

The second maid, Lesica, had only recently entered the ranks and was inexperienced in every way, which she confirmed by confessing: "I once saw two of the seniors of Elder Zervan's retinue fight. If the guardsmen are not inferior to them, then five is probably enough."

"Don't say that in front of them," Caché said, listening to how far away Reggie was. "They'd be insulted by such comparisons."

"It's understandable," Sobiré lowered her voice. "How much evil Zervan's pack has brought? Bless me, Dark One, but it's a good thing they're gone."

"Sobire!" The magician hissed warningly.

"I didn't say anything," she didn't seem the least bit embarrassed. "The people, the servants, and the others, almost had a party when they found out the Mistress had executed the Elder. All right, all right, I exaggerate! But it's true that no one felt sorry for him."

"So it is, LadyCaché," Lesica squeaked in agreement at the look in the vampire's eyes. "He was feared, badly."

"I've never heard of subordinate elders attacking their own. There was a case twenty years ago, but then the murderer was found and burned."

"There have been rumors, lady..."

"It's much calmer to walk around the dungeons."

"Sobire," the name sounded different this time, and the maid was momentarily silent. "Not a good subject to discuss. Let's return to the previous one. Lesica, the guardsmen are very strong in their own way and have long learned to work together. Each of them has trained for hundreds of years, day in and day out, with and without weapons. Believe me, attacking them, even in the daytime, is insane. That's why they were sent with us because they can handle any conceivable danger."

After a moment's silence, Caché added self-critically: "Just don't get in their way."

A convenient place for the camp was found about ten kilometers from the excavation, and the guide showed it to her. Who the frail-looking man in plain clothes was, an agent of Elder Kalderan's office or a cultist, Caché wasn't interested. She simply noted that he would look equally organic in the countryside and poor city quarters, and even in the back rooms of rich people's mansions, and then went about her business.

The village that had served as the starting point of the investigation was a little farther away and to the right, looking toward the abandoned town. They did not reach it - they turned onto an overgrown road, so narrow that in some places they had to carry the carriage in their arms. The mage squinted unhappily but kept quiet. She did not like the fact that in case of escape the carriage would have to leave, and at the same time, she knew that there were no quiet corners where they could leave the vehicle.

The vampires made camp in the afternoon, taking a few hours to set up and scout the immediate area. By nightfall, at the time of their power, they were ready to act. The mages had long ago experimented with the effects of sunlight on vampires and had found that during the daytime the activity of the body was directly proportional to the thickness of the layer of ground above it. In other words, in very deep caves, even the youngsters did not need to sleep at noon. At night, the negative influence disappeared, the body spent its energy not on maintaining its state, but on moving, hunting, or using abilities, depending on the situation.

This wasn't the first time Caché had been on an investigation like this, first with the maître, then alone. She knew what to do. While the servants together with the coachman set up the tent, inside the carriage the magician used artifacts to check the camp and surroundings for possible surprises. She had had an unpleasant incident in the past when a monster they hunted hid right under her feet. Now, given the presence of the mage priests nearby, anything at all was to be expected.

"The priests have surrounded the excavation site with no less than two signal circuits," she reported to Reggie a little later. "We won't have any trouble with the first one; it's weak and clearly distinguishable in a mystical vision. It's more like a habit. The second one is much harder, and it would take a little preparation to get through it."

"What is required of us?"

"Nothing. Just do as I say."

On the first night, they weren't going to sneak directly into the excavation; they planned only to watch. The six vampires had disappeared silently into the dark forest like night spirits. It wasn't difficult to reach the first outline, or to penetrate it - Inhumans could see perfectly well in the dark without tricks. The signal, given by the priests, was gaping and they got through it without stopping. The second signal circuit took a little more time. It had to be hacked.

They didn't know how often patrols went around the perimeter, or if they did. Supposedly they should. Cache didn't want to leave traces, but opening a passage by personal force was not a pleasant pleasure either. So, having hastily constructed a trio of suitable artifacts, she anchored the hole in the alarm system she had created. Now, no matter what happened to her, the passage would remain intact.

The five figures glided on, leaving one guardsman to cover the way back. They only slowed their speed - the mage was checking for traps ahead, and they were wary of patrols. Which, by the way, was very well hidden, ordinary people almost certainly would not have detected them. It took them a full hour to reach the city borders, which was a long time by the standards of older vampires.

There they split up. Two of the guardsmen remained to observe the frequency with which patrols passed and changed. Caché, the sergeant, and another guardsman named Sojour went to watch the excavation directly. Frankly, even from where a couple of his subordinates remained, Reggie could sense everyone alive for miles around. However, it's always better to see for yourself. Wizards can hide from sensory flair. It should be checked in person.

Humans didn't notice them.

"The guards aren't allowed near the excavations," Reggie remarked as he looked at the possible routes. "Look at the camps. Priests in the center, fifty light lancers each to the south and west."

"It's easier for us," Sojour replied. "There's less chance of running into some sleepwalker with insomnia. Lady's recovering."

The sorceress really came out of her trance, and moved, gratefully accepting the cup of drink. Her eyes slowly filled with color, turning from milky white to plain black.

"All three camps are protected, the central one, of course, is the hardest," Caché said, helping herself by pointing to the places she was describing with a twig. "There are six mages, but two of them have a weak core, apparently ordinary priests."

"There's nothing for ordinary folks to do here," Reggie countered.

"I'm in the magical sense, I can't say anything about the positions. So, there are six mages, and they are in the central camp. The other two alarms are tied to artifacts. Also in the central camp are three chimeras of some kind, I could not tell if they were combat or not, and a dozen people with a suppressed will. I suspect they are diggers. Since the guards could not be involved, but someone needs to haul the earth, they brought silent dummies."

"Can you tell me more about the chimeras?"

"I have nothing to add," Caché jerked her shoulder. "The defense is good, there's not much more to see. Or risk being spotted."

"We can't take any chances," the older vampire shook his head. "Well, let's hope they're not bloodhounds. We're not going into the camp, anyway. And the excavation is a long way off."

"The excavation is the most interesting part. There is something down there, faintly felt traces of an unfamiliar force, and an entirely unfamiliar one at that. I've never seen anything like it before! I must go and check."

She murmured the last phrase in an anticipatory tone. The guardsmen looked at each other and remained silent - they had to go and check, that's why they had been sent here.

"We're not going in today," Reggie said in an emphatic tone, burying the witch's dreams. "We'll look around first, map out the approaches, look for traps. Sojour, see if you can climb that tower over there. I'd put an observer there, it's strange that he's not there."

An experienced vampire is difficult, almost impossible, to spot at night. Unfortunately, Caché, despite her age, paid insufficient attention to the art of concealment, so Reggie had to keep her safe at all times. He considered leaving her in hiding and going around the excavation himself, but the priests took care of their duties, not all the alarms they had set were noticed by the sergeant. Reggie made a mental note to himself: when he returned home, ask Messen Latham for training or to concern himself with some other way of detecting magic. The current skills were not enough.

There were many traps. The only logical explanation for so many was the failure of the previous scouts. The priests were alarmed, so they were paranoid. It took the vampires a few hours to get a map of the excavation and decide exactly where they were going to go the next night. They left the city just before dawn.

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