The Road to Magic (Book 1 of the Way of the Demon Series) (8 page)

‘In that case, we need to hurry! He’ll report to his superiors and soon a whole army will be rushing to capture us. I don’t really fancy slaughtering the armed forces of your country.’ Oleg was really worried and bluffing through his teeth.

‘Don’t worry. He’s not likely to tell anyone. After being disgraced like that, he’d be shipped out to fight in the front line. And anyhow, I think from now on we should use the secret passageway. Seeing as Kreghist dared to give the order to capture me, that means there’s not much time left… Poor Papa!’

The princess took a few steps and took hold of something sticking out of the wall, evidently one of the rings used for holding torches. She rotated it around its axis and then gave it a sharp tug. The stone panel immediately moved to one side with a soft rustle, revealing a secret passageway.

‘Let’s go.’ The girl dived into the depths behind the trapdoor and all Oleg could do was follow her.

The secret passage, which wound around capriciously, had many apertures for spying and eavesdropping. The sound of voices came up through one of them. Oleg went closer and looked through the opening. Before him was the guard’s room. Listening in to the conversation going on there, Oleg was quick to withdraw, leading the princess out behind him. It was not a conversation …desirable … for her to hear.

‘…three days. I’ll bet you five silver coins.’

‘OK, agreed. Don’t you want to bet on the method, too?’

‘The method?’

‘You know - poison, strangle, suffocate, fall down the stairs, or whatever?’

‘And how should I know?’

‘Well, how do you know when, then?’

‘Well, that’s easy. Tomorrow the old king, will turn up his toes, then there’ll be three days of mourning, then the coronation should follow. And she, of course, won’t live to see the coronation. But he won’t bump her off straightaway. The Lord Chancellor’s not a beast, he’ll give her time to bid her father farewell. And so that means that in three days’ time …’

No, no, the princess certainly should not hear that.

Seeing Oleg’s obvious interest in the many spy holes, Ataletta decided to explain.

‘This passageway was built by my great-grandfather who was renowned for his intense curiosity. It runs throughout the whole of the section my ancestor thought was of interest.’

‘Well, you can quite understand him,’ Oleg said as he leaned towards the next aperture, which he tore himself away from with obvious reluctance. The curious Ataletta, who had obviously inherited this quality from her great-grandfather, immediately availed herself of the free place. In front of her eyes she saw a luxurious bathroom. In the centre behind clouds of steam, a certain figure could be seen, and you could very clearly see the figure belonged to the female sex.

‘By the way, there are four spy holes into the bathrooms. And I think that one of them, incidentally, is the men’s room!’

‘May well be. The layout of the rooms has changed a bit since my great-granddad’s time. Spy holes were made into all the bathrooms adjacent to the fraulein rooms, and into some of the guest room bathrooms, too. Not only spy holes, but in some places secret doorways, too. My great-granddad was not only a lover of secrets, but very loving in general, and my great-grandmother was very stern in this respect. Come on.’

Walking on a little way, the princess suddenly sidled up to one of the apertures and carefully examined the room beyond. Then she jerked a lever and stepped into the space opening up before her.

‘Where are you going?’ Oleg skipped after her quickly.

‘It’s my room. I chose it myself. No one but me knew about the secret passageway. My relatives didn’t share my passion for history but they didn’t stop me from exploring the palace, and sometimes it’s very useful to have an emergency exit. I need to grab some money and some things; I probably won’t be returning for a while, or maybe ever, if my dear uncle’s servants catch me.’

So saying, Ataletta rummaged in the cupboard distractedly. After waiting quarter of an hour, Oleg locked the door with the bolt and without getting undressed, lay down on the sofa nearby.

‘Wake me up when you’ve finished packing.’

And with those words he closed his eyes and, as though falling into an abyss, collapsed into the realm of Morpheus. The last time Oleg had slept was in his dorm before he’d set off to Denis’s birthday party. Since then, the impetuously swirling whirlpool of events over the last twenty-four hours had not allowed him the tiniest break. Now his body was insistently demanding its due.

Chapter Five

The Princess’s Bodyguard

He awoke when the sun was climbing to its zenith. On the sofa next to him Ataletta was snuffling in her sleep, rolled up into a little ball under a heap of shawls. Two huge bundles were standing next to her, obviously packed for her flight.

With a sigh, Oleg touched the princess’s shoulder. She half opened a sleep-heavy eyelid.

‘Why didn’t you wake me up?’ Despite the fact that no-one had broken into the room and snatched the sleepers, Oleg was not happy. Fancy falling asleep, and right in the den of the enemies on their tail! Yes, he’d been lucky this time, but you can’t always be lucky. Fortune is a fickle goddess and you can’t rely on her mercy.

‘I tried to!’ Ataletta informed him, rubbing her sleepy eyes. ‘But you were in a deep sleep and when I nudged you, you started waving around, shouting.

Oleg blushed. It was true, someone had tried to wake him up and he’d reacted like an angry bear.

The princess went on mercilessly: ‘And the guards are skulking about, so I was afraid they’d hear you …. And you were waving your claws around … so I decided it was better to let you sleep a while.’ She fell silent for a bit, then added: ‘And anyway, I really wanted to sleep myself.’

Oleg gave a deep sigh.

‘OK, let’s forget it. There’s a positive side to all of this. Now we won’t need to roam around the city at night looking for a place to sleep. Open your passageway!’ Oleg was overcome by an urgent desire to eat and drink.

After another sigh, Oleg turned to his inner organs with the request that they wait a little longer to fulfil their lawful demands. The answering rumble told him, ‘Well, OK then, that’s how it’ll have to be, but not for long, otherwise…’ Satisfied with the outcome of this diplomatic discussion, Oleg turned to the princess. She was waiting for him, standing by the door of the opened secret passageway.

‘Well, shall we be off?’

And without waiting for an answer, Oleg took a step forward, but the girl looked at him and said, “Haven’t you forgotten something?”

Now what? Oleg searched the room and saw the bundles, which he had successfully managed to forget about.

‘I’ve packed a few things,’ said the princess, confirming his worst fears.

‘A few?’

‘Yes. Just the most indispensable, like you said. Two everyday over-tunics, three evening and three day costumes, one hunting costume, three sets of silk underwear.. .’

‘Yeah,’ Oleg drawled. In fact he’d expected something of the sort, but not in such an extreme form. ‘And might I enquire as to whether you’ve taken any money?’

‘Yes, why?’

‘And jewellery?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then let’s go.’

‘But what about my dresses?’ such heartfelt grief, such irrelevant sorrow, was in the little princess’s voice that even Oleg’s heart, hardened from dealing with his mother and sister, wavered for an instant. But only for an instant.

For a moment he imagined himself, hardly able to move, loaded up with bundles, crawling through the secret passage and captured by half-drunk guards; even worse he’d be forced to carry all that weight first up to the hotel, and then on their flight from her uncle and his guards. Once he took them, the princess, undoubtedly, would never want to part with her precious dresses…pity abandoned his heart. After all, “the donkey which has once been ridden will be ridden by the whole village,” and “people will always take advantage of you if you let them,” as they say.

‘We’re not taking the dresses. Well, you, of course, can take anything you like from here, but on three conditions: firstly, you will carry it
all
yourself. I need to have my hands free in case I have to fight. Secondly, it must
all
be carried so if need be you will easily be able to run without any significant loss of speed. And thirdly, you will have to carry it
all
in such a way that it won’t attract any attention. What sort of people go around your city with big bundles?’

‘Peasants.’

‘And what kind of clothes do you have? From which class?’

‘A noble city lady. An aristocratic lady, not a rich one.’ Ataletta obviously knew this subject inside out.

‘And about how much do they usually carry?’

‘Well, maybe a little bag or a parcel. Not more. If need be, the servants carry the rest behind them.’

‘Well, you see, there are no servants here. So all you can take is a little bag or a parcel.’

‘Well, you could…’ the princess started to say but stopped herself, catching Oleg’s cold glance. Hemming and hawing, she bent down and took a small box from the bundle. Having put it in a bag which was hanging from her elbow – obviously the local equivalent to a ladies’ handbag – Ataletta turned to Oleg. ‘I’m ready. Let’s go.’

The secret passage led them to a small alley. They followed it and came out onto a square teaming with poorly-dressed people. They immediately drew attention. And that was not surprising. In his silver-studded leather jacket and his jeans, with his guitar over his shoulders, and a head taller than those around him, Oleg stood out markedly from the local men whose average height, according to Oleg’s estimate, was around 5 foot, 3 inches, and wore short tunics with daggers or short swords hanging from their belts. Ataletta, too, in her rather crumpled but clean and light tunic of good quality material and well-cared for skin, really stood out among the local women.

‘I reckon we need to find a hotel urgently,’ Oleg turned to his travelling companion. ‘Do you know anywhere suitable?’

‘Yes. We should go that way,’ the girl waved her hand to show the direction.

The hotel turned out to be a smallish tavern which went under the name of “The Green Dragon”, as was evident from the sign outside showing a smallish dragon with its body elongated in Chinese style, crawling out from a bottle of some local alcoholic beverage.

The rooms turned out to be clean and light, although they were rather modestly furnished. Having eaten his fill and cheered up, Oleg turned his attention to the princess, who had fallen into despondency.

‘What’s up? You look upset.’

Ataletta nodded her head and touched the purse hanging on her belt.

‘It’s not so bad really. It’s just that we’re running out of money. We won’t have enough for the journey, and we still have to buy you some clothes and weapons. Looks like I’ll have to sell my jewellery after all. I’d hoped we could have managed without that. They’re family heirlooms and quite well-known. People will realize at once that I’m on the run, and in this town.’

‘Well, they know that anyway. You’ve only just disappeared, so you’d hardly have been able to get out of town yet. The guards at the gates have probably already been warned and are carefully looking for girls who look like you,’ Oleg answered. He could clearly see the princess didn’t want to part with the last keepsakes of her past, and besides, it irked him that a girl had to pay for him. Of course, it was “within the terms of the contract”, but still… Oleg urgently needed his own money. And so far he could only see one way of getting it. Today, unlike yesterday, that way didn’t appeal to him so much. But it looked as though there were no other choice.

‘You don’t have to sell your jewellery. Apart from all the inconvenience associated with selling it, it’ll cause you a lot of trouble when you take up your throne. It’ll be a lot of hassle to buy it all back... I know where to get money.’

‘Where?’ The girl’s face lit up with hope and the expectation of a miracle. It seemed she’d decided that Oleg was now going to conjure money up out of thin air or in some other magical way. He had to disappoint her.

‘If my memory serves me well, yesterday evening one of your acquaintances, a certain Albert, indebted himself to me to the tune of two thousand gold pieces. I reckon that should cover clothes and weapons, with some left over for the road, too. By the way, where are we heading?’

‘To the Iron Baronies. My godfather, Baron Maidell, warned me of possible treason when my father first fell ill and told me I could go straight to him. He won’t turn his back on me,’ the princess answered lightly. It was clear that she had thought this matter through.

Then it dawned on her just exactly
where
Oleg intended to get the money for the journey, and once again she grew visibly upset. In general, Oleg noticed that this girl’s mood changed extremely easily.

‘Maybe you’d better not? The money we can get in exchange for my jewellery should be ample for us. I feel really awkward about fleecing Albert. We grew up together and he’s one of the very few who have remained faithful even now when everyone has turned against me. After all, it was him who thought up the plan of invoking a demon…’ but she saw how Oleg’s eyes darkened and fell silent at once.

‘Exactly! He thought up the plan of invoking and
enslaving
a demon. And he shall pay for it! And a lot less than he should, I’ll say. In any event, his father is the one who’ll give us the money. What’s his name by the way? And don’t worry, you won’t have to “fleece” your friend. I’ll undertake that operation myself. You just show me where he lives, and then wait somewhere out of the way.’

The girl got up from her chair with a heavy sigh.

‘Let’s go. It’s not far from here. Albert’s father is called Petronii. As you probably know already, he’s the High Priest of Orchis the Light Bearer. And apart from anything else, that means that there are over fifty guards of the main municipal temple and squads from dozens of other smaller temples on his land. And it also means that magic won’t work on either him or his servants. Do you still want to go and see him about money?’

‘Of course! I have to go and get my little snake. I can’t let her poison herself on Albert’s tough flesh. And if Petronii decides to unleash his guards on me, all the better! I could do with a little exercise.’ And Oleg allowed his eyes to turn into lakes full of darkness for an instant.

The princess frowned and turned away.

‘You know, for a time there I’d forgotten you were a demon. You were just like a human!’

‘That’s as it should be, my girl,’ Oleg said softly. ‘I am a human…’ and remembering his cover story he added ‘… half.’

Then it entered Oleg’s head to dramatize the situation a bit; girls like romantic heroes, and Oleg suddenly wanted Ataletta to like him.

‘Some day I’ll have to decide once and for all whether to become a demon or a human and lose everything which makes up the other half of my soul…’ Oleg tried hard to put on a suffering expression.

Of course, this would hardly have worked on anyone back in his own world, but here “a complex, conflicting and suffering personality” should be quite a new approach. It was highly doubtful that the local simple folk would known the works of Rafael Sabatini or any of the other writers of Earth’s Romantic era.

The gamble paid off. Ataletta’s gaze no longer held any disgust for the “cruel demon” that the winds of fate had made into a bodyguard. Now other feelings flickered in that gaze. Oleg even felt a bit ashamed for stooping to such an underhand trick, over-used by psychologists and writers of women’s novels for many a generation. But at least the climate had improved, and with that he soothed his conscience.

‘OK. I hope that answers all your questions. Show us the way to this Petronii of yours.’

‘He’s not mine at all,’ the princess mumbled, going out the door.

It was indeed not far. As it turned out, Ataletta knew her city superbly well. After half an hour of looping through various back alleys, they came out onto one of the central streets of a wealthy part of the city.

‘There it is,’ Ataletta whispered, pointing to a two-story wooden house surrounded by a high stone wall. A guard was lounging in front of the gates dressed in grey-white chlamys with a simplistic design on the chest – the same triangle in a circle which Oleg had seen on the amulet belonging to the lieutenant who had tried to detain the princess.

With great concentration, the guard was excavating treasure from his nose; his menacing weapon – a huge though slightly rusty halberd, obviously extremely heavy – leant against the gate post. Observing this, Oleg gave a sceptical snort.

‘Are all the temple guards like that, I wonder?’ ‘That’s one of the best,’ Ataletta pulled a wry face. ‘Look, he even carries his halberd with him. Most of them don’t usually carry anything heavier than a tankard.’

‘And they are guards? Warriors?’ Oleg was quite astonished.

‘What sort of warriors? Who would they fight? First sign of trouble, out comes their little Orchis amulet, the opponent’s paralyzed, and there you are!’

‘But what if the amulet doesn’t work? For instance, what if they wave it about in front of a warrior, not a magician?’

‘Magician, warrior, what’s the difference? It paralyzes all of them. It knocks out the magician’s magical powers, too. You’re the only phenomenon that the amulet doesn’t have any effect on. When I saw it yesterday I couldn’t believe my eyes at first. But I don’t think they have any inkling of your abilities…yet’

And with those words the princess suddenly gave Oleg a most conspiratorial wink. She’d obviously come to terms with the fact that the priest would be robbed in any case, and had decided that, seeing as she could do nothing about it, she might as well “sit back, relax and enjoy the show”.

‘Good girl, keep it up,’ Oleg muttered, and coming out of hiding, he swaggered towards the so-called guard, having made up his mind to turn up the heat. After all, the amulets had no effect on him, there were no magicians here, and if they tried to pin him down with brute force… Meanwhile, the guard-doorkeeper had successfully completed his naso-geological enterprise. After examining his bounty, he wiped his hands on his ample paunch and, with his hand on his halberd, was leaning against the gate post with the clear intention of having a little snooze in the shade.

This intention didn’t really fit in with Oleg’s little plan, and he quickened his steps. But by the time he reached the guard, the watchman was already sound asleep.

‘Hey, soldier!’ Oleg called. In the depths of the gateway Ataletta bit her lip. Never, ever had anyone dared to address a holy guard of Orchis in such a familiar way. Anyone with the cheek to address a guard other than “most respected holy guard” was immediately paralyzed with the help of the amulet and taken to the nearest court where they received a hefty fine, most of which went to the church, a small part going to the pockets of “the injured party”.