With the elimination of the horsekeeper and the three entrance guards, the operation could be considered successfully concluded. Not a single Sanchirian Wolf stationed at the base had gone unpunished. All seventeen Exoplion present in the treasure room had been recovered. The four knights of the Royal Order of Ferlonia walked side by side in the dark cave towards the entrance, ready to emerge at the base of the ravines under the moonlight. Kalira with her mace and her orange armor, Bersept with an anchor and his ultramarine blue armor, Geltram with his ax and scarlet armor, Anker with the pistols and Clesbius' black armor. Each of them carried on their shoulders a sack containing three or four Exoplia stacked together.

  In front of the boulder that sealed the entrance of the base, Kalira stepped forward, ready to turn it to rubble with her new power. Unexpectedly, however, the rock melted into a muddy stream, even before the knight could impose her hand. A troop of seven knights, all wearing ethereal armor, squeezed through the newly opened gap. The leader of the formation was Lobrum of the Liquid Sky, a knight of the High Table, the one who had authority over Further Sanchiria. Among the ranks of the knights who had just burst in, Anker recognized Rucent's face. His speculations about him had been answered.

  “I see you've saved us a lot of trouble, kids. You did great,” Lobrum said in a paternalistic tone, showing himself suspiciously aware of what had just happened in that rebel lair.

  “Thank you, sir. Actually it was just a day's work, our feat is not that remarkable,” Geltram replied, obsequiously but slipping a subtle vein of polemic between his words. If the organization had not already been defeated in the previous months, it was certainly not because of the difficulty of the investigations.

  Lobrum smiled, then added, getting straight to the point, “Now hand over the Exoplion you recovered.”

  “Actually we think we’ll keep ‘em,” Kalira replied, calmly but firmly.

  A knight at Lobrum's side stepped forward, and as he raised his arm as if he intended to summon his ethereal weapon, he began to say, “Do as the commander ordered you, or else – ”

  Lobrum motioned for him to stop, and with a more diplomatic tone, he resumed, “Come on, what are you going to do with all those Exoplia? If you hand them to us, they will be returned to headquarters and you will have your merits anyaway. And then you are novice knights, and the Exoplia you recovered are better fit for higher-ups. Wouldn't standard Exoplions suit you better?”

  At that point, Anker too felt the urge to intervene, “That's not exactly how things are. We were assigned the mission to recover some of these Exoplia from the fallen knights who had them in their possession. At least those are rightfully ours.”

  “Oh, I'm aware of that. But if those Exoplia you were looking for ended up in this hideout, it means your mission has failed, so you have forfeited the right to the reward you were promised. This is another matter. You decided to come here on your own initiative.”

  Lobrum's reasoning was ruthless but unassailable, so Kalira thought it was time to move on to blackmail, “You seem to be aware of a lot of information, sir Liquid Sky. Even the exact location of the base of the anarchist group that has been giving the Crown so much trouble in recent months. Yet we conducted our investigations completely independently, nothing leaked from us. How did you manage to be so ready, out here, waiting for us? You can take the fruit of our labor, but make no mistake, what happened tonight will be a topic of discussion at the next meeting of the Sixteen of the Crown.”

  Rucent and three other knights from Lobrum's squad stepped forward, ready to start hostilities. Lobrum, without responding directly to Kalira, observed, “Not everyone who participates in the assault of an enemy outpost is assured to survive. There could be casualties, and the only witnesses to such heroic sacrifices will be the walls of these caves. It's so sad, to think about it.”

  Hearing those words, Anker realized that their opponents had never had friendly intentions: Lobrum's group was planning to get rid of them from the start. Having them hand over the Exoplion as initially requested was just a tactic to completely nullify their offensive potential. Nevertheless, the outcome of the battle was a foregone conclusion. Seven knights with expertise in the use of their Exoplion, one of which a member of the High Table, against four novices.

  Still, going down fighting was a better option than just giving up.

  Thinking about it, Anker concluded that if it had to end like this anyway, perhaps it would have been more gratifying to die trying to put a bullet in Bersept's skull in front of Nika's corpse.

  Unexpectedly, Bersept raised the visor of his helmet and recovered something that was stuck inside one of the eye slits. It was the automaton bug Anker had handed to him that morning. Then he responded to Lobrum something clever, an occurrence that Anker didn’t recall happening for the ten years he had known him, “I didn’t like carrying a bug with me at first, but I must admit I enjoyed it in the end. I like the idea of keeping footage of my prowess in battle. But, to get to the point, we have at least a spectator in this fearless enterprise. And if something happens to us here, the footage will be leaked.”

  Lobrum looked only modestly impressed by Bersept’s threat, but Geltram managed to be even more convincing. “May the footage leak or not, I fear you’ll buy some trouble anyway if you kill us here, sir Liquid Sky. Let me bring something to your attention. I am Geltram Roncistelli, third son of Bernardo Roncistelli the White Falcon, of the Sixteen of the Crown. If I disappear a thorough research will be conducted. And I suppose it will make no difference to my father’s eyes if I died by the hand of the anarchists or yours. You will be held responsible anyway.”

  Anker knew how much Geltram hated using his family name to achieve his goals and expected that in a situation like that he would have preferred to fight, but this time he must have considered it more prudent to make things crystal clear. After all, Lobrum acted as if he had full knowledge of who he was facing, but from small details, it was apparent that he and his group had found themselves having to respond to the unexpected intrusion of the novice knights into their affairs without having time to study carefully who they were, what their background was, or their objectives. The information had certainly passed through their hands, but they must not have delved into it thoroughly.

  Lobrum stroked the goatee that sprouted under his helmet and took a moment to ponder over the matter. Finally, accommodatingly, he convened, “On second thought, I must say, kids, that you managed to pull off a pretty good job. Your efforts should be rewarded. It doesn't matter which Exoplion you were originally commissioned to recover. Choose one each from those you are carrying and it will be yours. I will take care of explaining this to headquarters. Just hand over the others to us.”

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  *****

  Viryl, stretched out on a hammock hanging on the terrace of the attic of a dilapidated wooden building, sipped hot punch in the morning frost while watching the sky and waiting for dawn to break over the sea. Anker, who had received instructions from him on how to reach his whereabouts, arrived on the balcony like a walking dead. The apartment door was open, and he entered without even knocking.

  Hearing his footsteps, Viryl asked him, “So, how did it go?”

  It was just a background question. Viryl had followed all the events on his speculum, through the broadcast of Anker’s bugs, so he wasn’t that interested in the news Anker was bringing. He cared more about how the kid was doing. That must have been a hard day for him, on an emotional level.

  “I'm coming back empty-handed,” Anker replied, his voice broken. He hadn’t read the true intentions behind Viryl’s question.

  Viryl turned for a moment to look at him, then returned to watching the sky.

  “Yeah,” Viryl said.

  The kid had some balls, Viryl had to concede it. He had kept faith to his vow of Dedication and given Clesbius’ Exoplion back. To Lobrum and the other knights, he had said he would not accept any Exoplion other than Viryl of the White Gale’s. Anyone else would have ripped the stupid napkin off their saber’s hilt and accepted the gifted Exoplion, but not that kid.

  The others must have thought he was an idiot, but Viryl sort of understood him.

  For the first time he found himself thinking that he wouldn’t have minded if his Exoplion was passed down to the kid.

  Anker went to sit down next to him, on the wooden floorboards, then asked, “Did you have better luck?”

  “I can’t say so. Tolomer, my informant, is not in Corlona. He's on a 'spirit-tempering journey' or some other esoteric bullshit this winter. Anyway, I took the liberty of coming to spend the night in his rat hole of an apartment and drinking what he left behind.”

  “Quite a liberty, you took.”

  “He won’t mind. That lazybones is my first cousin. We grew up together, he's practically a brother to me.”

  Anker still didn't think that was a good enough excuse for him to break into someone else's house and ransack it.

  “But he told some of our common acquaintances where he was going. A lost island four days' sail from here, near the Neferian coast. I found a boat, they asked me eighty silver ducats for a round trip. It's a bit high, but I'm afraid with the sea in this condition we won't find a ride for less. We leave tomorrow morning at eight,” Viryl added.

  Anker nodded, his eyes lost in space.

  “How are you, boy?” Viryl asked more directly.

  “You know, I keep thinking about what you told me on the mountain the other morning, Viryl.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing, sorry. It's just that – ” Anker trailed off, “I don't know, I can't find the right words. I know what kind of animals knights can be. I understand their motivations and their blind lust for domination. Their thirst for blood. But I’m not like that. I can't vomit up the stone in my stomach when I think of the faces of the men whose lives I've seen broken like twigs. Is that what made you realize you'd had enough at one point?”

  “Look, it's a bit more complicated than that. My life wasn’t as linear as you might expect. I understand what you're going through, but I feel like I have only one piece of advice to give you. Don't think you're the only compassionate knight in Ferlonia or the world. Get used to looking behind the visor that every knight lowers over his face before the battle and learn to recognize who shares your values. And, for God's sake, when you find those people, hold them tight.”

  Anker leaned his head against the wall behind him and bent slightly. He didn't feel convinced or comforted by Viryl's answer. He closed his eyes and waited a couple of minutes before opening his mouth again. “I'm tired,” he finally said.

  “Go lie down for a few hours, I need you well-rested to finalize our preparations. The bedroom is behind the first door on the right as you enter,” Viryl replied.

  Anker rose heavily and stumbled back into the attic. He noticed details along the corridor that he had initially ignored or at least interpreted differently, not knowing who the house belonged to. The spaces were cramped, but at the same time they were baroquely decorated. The lighting was poor and was provided by fetid tallow candles, perched on convoluted wrought-iron candelabras. There were statues from the Classian era, amphorae and ancient papyri hanging on the walls. On the floor, in the spots not covered by black rugs, runes carved with a knife could be seen. Piled up in the corners of the walls or scattered haphazardly, there were leather-bound tomes.

  Tolomer's bedroom was even more singular. The bed, covered in a purple velvet cloth, was in the center of the room and surrounded by a canopy of black drapes. Then there were, in clockwise order, in the four corners of the room: a lectern, a large flat stone whose surface was stained with pigments of unknown origin, a writing desk with a parchment covered in indecipherable characters in the center, and a bookcase crammed with volumes. Anker threw himself onto the soft mattress and fell into a deep and restorative sleep.

  ****

  Anker woke up around noon and put on his uniform, which he had left in Viryl's hands the day before. They spent the rest of the day buying supplies and equipment for sailing. It would not be a long journey, but in all probability the sea would be stormy, so they needed at least boots and a waxed jacket.

  Once their purchases were complete, they took two crates of provisions and their personal belongings to the shipowner. He took the opportunity to introduce them to the ship's captain. He was a middle-aged fisherman, wrinkled by the sun and salt, with his eyes sunken into their sockets. On his head down to his sideburns, he seemed to have a white bush of bristly rosemary combed by the southwest wind. They wanted to get to know him better since they would soon be entrusting their lives to him, so they offered him a drink at a small inn of his liking. He was a frugal man with gruff manners, obtuse in some ways. However, he seemed like a decent person, and Viryl in particular seemed to take a liking to him. His name was Natharol.

  Around seven in the evening it started to drizzle, so they let him go home and went to a tavern where they ordered stuffed mussels and pasta with chickpeas and octopus.

  When it was time to sleep, they took a room in a hostel at the port, to be ready to leave the next morning. It was a cold and damp dive that smelled of urine. There were dormitories with up to sixteen beds, but they treated themselves to a double with two single beds. They wrapped themselves in the woolen blankets and tried to get some sleep.

  At dawn, they reached the pier where they had arranged to meet Natharol and the rest of the crew. They found him already tinkering with the rigging on the deck of the ship. The vessel was a fishing tartan modified with a Fuligine Stone auxiliary engine. The name "Regina Jolanda II" was painted in yellow on the black hull, and the two white lateen sails and the profiles of the sailors stood out against the gray and stormy sky filled with cumulonimbus clouds.

  Anker took one last look at his speculum before boarding, as there would be no sympationic coverage in the open sea and he would be cut off from the world. Messages from those who had returned to the headquarters of Leapolis after completing their missions were starting to flood the conversations of the group chat of novices. Those who had not been able to recover an Exoplion congratulated those who had, swallowing their resentment and envy.

  Between the messages, there were also those of Geltram, Bersept, and Kalira, who were basking in the glory of an endeavor far more prestigious than anyone else's.

  Anker put his speculum in his pocket and started up the gangplank, following Viryl's steps.

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