NOVPUBThree full days passed while Ayla tended Conradin's wound. What had begun as blackened and festering flesh gradually returned to a healthy color. At dawn on the fourth day she asked Mara and Lysa to help close the injury, and together they stitched it with thread spun from Death-Spider silk, harvested by the Barbarians inside the Frozen Forest.
Thanks to the schools and research institutions spread around the Stahl Kingdom, established by Henry, new technologies and knowledge was being produced. The curative power of the Death Spiders was such an example. It could hasten the recovery and treat against infections. Luckily, Conradin, who had little interest in medicine, failed to notice the faint silver color of the sutures.
The distrust and anger subsided together with the fever, making the life of the sisters much easier. They received new boots and there were no more ropes binding their wrists or ankles. Goodwill was slowly building up towards the sisters.
"We will reach the capital by tomorrow" - Conradin said that evening. He flexed his shoulder, testing the stitches, as he looked at the sisters by the bonfire - "I intend to present the three of you to the Prince."
His words made all three women tense. Ayla wanted to speak, but Conradin lifted one of his almost skeletal hands to silence her.
"You will not be held responsible for the earlier attack" - he continued - "Instead, you will swear loyalty to Prince Emerik and serve as healers at court, under my authority. Do this, and the matter will be closed."
The sisters exchanged a quick, silent glance while Conradin watched them closely.
"Are you displeased with my offer?" - he asked, a note of irritation slipping into his voice.
Sensing the anger in his tone, Ayla and her sisters immediately lowered her gaze - "We are honored, my lord. If His Highness grants us a place at court, we will serve him with everything we know."
"Good" - Conradin said as if the matter had already been decided, even without their consent. Then, he stepped closer and bent until his lips hovered near Ayla's ear - "Remember this: though you will swear loyalty to the Prince, you belong to me now. You heed my orders first, and only mine."
A tremor ran through all three, swallowing hard, but they answered together - "Yes, your grace. We are your servants."
Conradin smiled, clearly pleased by their submission. It was like tasting good food - "You may go." - he dismissed them with a flick of his fingers.
The sisters bowed and withdrew to the soldiers' fire, where deer stew was being slowly cooked. While they ate, soldiers drifted past offering polite thanks to which the three answered with shy smiles. The three had also treated some minor injures of those slightlu injured soldiers.
Later that same day, when darkness settled over the camp, Mara excused herself under the pretext of going to the bathroom. Conradin did not bother to post a guard, if she ran, her sisters would pay the price.
She slipped among the trees, activated the Tribal Tattoo, feeling strength surge into the point of her fingers. Choosing an old pine, she carved a narrow hole in its trunk and tucked a tiny parchment inside. Above the hole, she traced a single design: an eye crossed by a line, the Shadow Guards' mark.
"Captain will be pleased" - she whispered, a faint smile touching her lips before she returned to the glow of the campfires. No one said a word about her short absence; the guards were used to the sisters' quiet habits.
The night passed quietly, and the last day of travel began. Soldiers packed the tents, stamped out the fires, and the long line of wagons moved on. By midday the forest thinned, giving way to wide and fertile fields of wheat. In the distance the walls of Askiv rose, those piled pale stones were tall enough to guard the city but far smaller than the towering walls of Eisenburg, which managed to face the barbarians' attacks for ages.
"Stay close and don't drift off" - Conradin told the sisters, his gaze fixed on the walls ahead - "You will meet the Prince with me."
His shoulder no longer hurt, but he still didn't wear his red coat. He seemed eager for the court to see how hard he had worked, guiding five wagons of weapons by hand through thick forest where horses could not travel. He had crossed through enemy lines to deliver these supplies. He deserved honor, he deserved respect.
The only way into the city was a stone bridge over the River Keth, and its gate stood shut with archers on the parapets.
"Announce us" - Conradin ordered. A soldier stepped forward, waving a large red banner marked with Prince Emerik's emblem, an eagle spreading its wing, until the guards signaled back. Moments later the heavy gates swung open.
The wagons crossed the bridge and rolled into the outer district. The sisters expected a lively place, rich with food from the fertile land around it, even during war. What they found was far different.
A foul odor greeted them first, thick as an army camp left unclean. People shuffled along the streets like ghosts, thin children watched the convoy with hollow eyes that silently begged for food. The scene reminded the Shadow Guards of the hard years before Henry became King, back when hunger was as common as the snow that covered the whole land.
The wagons creaked along the main road, past tows of small, crooked houses. Many doors hung open, but no cooking fires burned inside. The people stood motionless, even the babies were too weak to cry, and the stray dogs were too thin to lift their noses toward the meat in the soldiers' packs.
Conradin stared straight ahead, refusing to look at the hunger and dirty faces of the people, disgusted by everything around him. Suddenly, desperate woman stepped into his path and trembling clutched his arm.
"P-please, noble lord" - she begged, her voice frail and weak - "A scrap of bread for my child, I will give anything." - A malnourished boy stood behind her, barely able to keep his balance. His eyes stared hollowly ahead, like a ghost.
"Get your hands off me, filth!" - Conradin shouted, shoving her to the ground. At the same time, a guard stepped forward and kicked her hard, then punched her twice more. The woman made no sound; she was too weak even to cry. Her child only watched with those same empty eyes.
"Stay back!" the guard roared at the crowd. "Anyone who moves will lose their head." No one dared to come closer.
Ayla, Mara, and Lysa kept their eyes on the road, showing no hint of pity. They couldn't break their character here, they couldn't be on Conradin's bad side. The soldiers did the same, though most of them believed their gift for mana placed them above common folk.
Undisturbed, the wagons rumbled on until they crossed another bridge and passed through a second, much tighter gate. Beyond it lay Askiv's Inner District, a world apart from the misery outside. The streets here were wide and clean. Well-dressed people strolled past stalls, eating hot bread and fresh fruit. This quarter belonged to those who could use mana and their families.
Some of the townsfolk nodded respectfully to Conradin and his convoy; a few even smiled with silent pride. Many soldiers' relatives lived here, and they understood the value of Conradin's cargo.
Finally the wagons reached the palace gate, home to Prince Emerik and the bedridden king. The stone walls were spotless, the guards alert. Golden emblems of the prince gleamed on shields and banners.
Conradin showed his seal ring to the officer on duty - "Captain Conradin Stann"- he announced. "Five wagons of weapons and tribute for His Highness, plus three healers rescued on the road."
