Hyon's cooking style reminded Cora of Mrs. Flint. The master cut and cleaned the fish with the respect due to a worthy opponent,dipped into a tray sprinkled with salt, and paused to inspect his work. "They should be good." With his movements and despite the humility of the task, Hyon seemed majestic and elegant at the same time; and when he looked at the young guests, his penetrating gaze made an impression on Cora.
"Please, sit down. I'm sorry, but I'm not used to unexpected visits." He wiped his hands on a rag, pointed at Camiel and said, "So, instead of standing there like a bunch of breadcrumbs, you can be the host."
Cora moved aside to let Camiel pass and bumped into Fez, who stepped on a bulb abandoned in the dust.
Camiel darted outside and returned with two wicker armchairs. "Master, if it's not too much trouble, we need clean clothes and a hot bath. We've been traveling for a long time and we stink like stray dogs."
Marmorel sniffed her shirt and winced. "I agree." The shoes she had worn since leaving Edel now had a hole in the sole and the tips were torn. Her pale legs were covered in a large number of small scars.
Hyon waved his hand in the air. "Of course, of course... in the afternoon. First, let's have a proper lunch or it will get cold. I spent a whole morning on these fish." He turned back to his apprentice and frowned. "So, tell me, Camiel: what kind of trouble have you brought into my home?" he asked. "Because these five boys don't look like tourists you randomly met at the port." Hyon snapped his fingers, and a blue burst of energy, the same consistency as water, shot from his staff and crashed into the corner fireplace. The resulting clang made the plates stacked in the cupboard rattle.
Elidana and Marmorel jumped, but Hyon smiled and said, "Don't worry, girls. Nothing to be afraid of." He looked back at Camiel. "I don't understand why you always involve me in these situations." He blew on the fire just lit and arranged the grill. He straightened up with difficulty, dragged his feet to the pantry, and took a fan from there. "I'm old and tired. Kallup is already keeping me busy, and then the Duke keeps inviting me to the palace as if I were one of his advisors," he grumbled. "I just want to enjoy what my age deserves: rest, fishing, and good wine!"
"I'm sorry, but I had no other choice," Camiel whispered, his gaze fixed on the floor.
Hyon sighed. "By the way, how are Iannes and Alara?" He placed the fish on the fire. The smoke filled the room and Aran opened the entrance door and stood under the cracked lintel to breathe.
"Fine, or at least I think so; they have nothing to worry about in Gastel, and Alara has probably already given birth to the baby," the warrior replied.
"Oh, good news every now and then," Hyon said as he checked to make sure the fish was roasting well. Without looking up, he gestured to Cora and Fez. "You two, set the table, please. It's almost ready."
The boys exchanged an inquisitive glance.
Marmorel shuttled between Camiel and the old man, squinting. "How can he be your master? He doesn't look like a Hozman!" she exclaimed.
"Not even a toenail, young lady. I come from Laeth, born and raised among the sons of Dormin," he said proudly.
"What are you doing here?" Aran asked. "My father always says that the inhabitants of Dremis never leave those lands."
"You, blondie, are quite a guy. Your father is right, but until you reach my age, it's better if you don't address me as if I were one of your friends," he replied dryly.
Aran blushed, and Camiel chuckled softly.
Hyon looked at Cora and Fez. "I asked you to set the table, didn't I?" he said. His bushy eyebrows furrowed in a stern expression.
"Yes, sir!" Cora replied in one breath. He gestured to Camiel to find out what to do. He was completely lost now. They had fled from assassins, were injured, and hadn't rested in days. Yet everyone, including Camiel, complied with the old man's timing and ways of preparing lunch. Even Fez, who he was sure would empty the pantry, seemed to maintain some decorum.
"A few days ago, at the Dried Swine," Hyon continued, "Kharzanian soldiers posted a bounty of twenty thousand gold coins for the capture of an Hozman and thirty thousand for five boys, including one from Zalesia."
Marmorel hugged her knees and hunched her shoulders.
The master smiled at her and continued: "There was a commotion. Some Meliro sailors got up from the table ready for a fight. To calm things down, the Duke's guards intervened."
"Damn it, Camiel! They're looking for us here too," barked Aran.
"Aran, right? Well, don't worry, no one will come looking for you. The Duke is very strict, and the laws of Amanastre won't allow five boys to be mistreated within its borders."
Camiel sat down, squinted his eyes, and massaged his forehead. "I'm sure they haven't followed us. They don't know for certain that we're in Amanastre." Cora tried to pass in front of him with glasses in hand, and he moved his feet.
"Tell me what you did to make those fanatics angry with you. Is there really a huge shipment of Seorite?" asked Hyon. He took the fish off the fire and made seven portions. He took a brimming mug of wine, some chunks of bread, sat at the head of the table, and invited the others to do the same.
"There is no Seorite shipment; they made it all up," said Elidana.
Hyon caught Camiel's gaze as he shrugged. "Okay, we'll talk about it later," the master said and skewered the fish while it was still warm. "Enjoy your meal; I hope you like it."
They ate with relish, and after a few minutes, both Aran and Cora had already cleaned their plates. Marmorel chewed in small bites, while Fez paid no attention to etiquette and even devoured the heads left by others.
Hyon stretched on his chair and drank another glass of wine. "Well, who wants to buy some clothes? Unfortunately, I have nothing in your size upstairs."
Camiel scratched his chin. "I would say all the boys except Fez.. Without him, they would go unnoticed even by the Kharzanians," said the Hozman.
"Why do I always have to be left out?" Fez asked in a low voice, looking at Cora.
"I'm sorry, but it's the most logical choice," continued the master. "I have an appointment with Kallup in the afternoon. Camiel can help you with the cleaning."
Fez raised an eyebrow. "What cleaning?" The master pointed to the dishes and the grill, then gestured to the dusty surfaces and winked at him. "Don't think that hospitality in my house is a vacation."
The master took a handful of coins from his pocket and handed them to Aran. "Make them last, please."
"I'll make sure to repay you back as soon as possible," said the boy, and went outside. Cora and Marmorel thanked the master and followed.
"See you later," Elidana said.
Cora and Elidana were walking along the main road at a leisurely pace, perhaps even a bit slower, enough to let the other two stay well ahead of them. Marmorel, with Aran at her side, would occasionally stop to gaze inside the luxurious shops in the city, while young Allet carried some of the purchased clothes.
Cora felt the remaining coins in his pocket. "I can't believe we spent all this gold on five pieces of clothing," he muttered. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted from a nearby alley. "We could get something for Fez," he suggested. "I'm sorry he had to stay at the master's house."
Elidana nodded. Although it had been a pleasant afternoon, she had been absent-minded throughout it all.
"How are you holding up?" Cora asked her. "You're the only one who seems to keep their nerves in check and a bit of clarity."
Elidana hunched her shoulders. "Do you think we'll come out of this alive?" She looked down at the cobblestones of the street, then inhaled and grasped his hand tightly.
"Of course, we'll make it out alive... I promise!" he said, sure of himself. He felt a fire in his chest, having said those words without realizing it. Their fingers were intertwined. They stopped walking. Cora found himself staring at Elidana's melancholic smile.
"Hey, you two, hurry up!" Aran yelled from a distance.
Cora snapped out of his daze. "Yes, coming!" Their hands separated, but they continued to gaze at each other even after taking the first step.
Marmorel pointed to a crowded and smoky side street. "I wanted to check out that area," she said.
"We don't have time to waste," Cora said.
"We can come back tomorrow," Aran added, surprising his friend.
Marmorel smiled broadly. "I saw some painters in that area. Maybe you can accompany me to admire some paintings," she said.
How could she suggest something like that at a moment like this? Cora thought. How could she have forgotten the last few days, the last few hours? Cora shook his head but said nothing.
On that hot summer afternoon, they found themselves back at the square of the Doge's Palace and retraced the same path from the morning that led to the city walls. Amid the scattered barrels and the stench of garbage, Aran's expression changed, and he glanced back several times. He motioned to Cora to pick up the pace.
"Why all the hurry?" Marmorel asked when Aran almost pushed her.
"Quiet. There are three men following us from the main street," he whispered. "One of them was at the city entrance this morning." Aran pointed to the next alley to take.
Cora instinctively looked back. Three figures kept their distance from them, but followed them through the streets.
"What do we do?" Elidana asked, taking three steps for every two.
"I don't know, but we have to lose them..." Aran said.
"We'll keep them busy," Cora added. "You go and call the old man and Camiel."
Elidana tightened her grip on his arm. "But..."
"I don't want to hear any objections! Hurry up," Aran said.
The girls hesitated. Neither Marmorel nor Elidana seemed willing to leave, or maybe, Cora thought, fear was not giving them time to react. "Go!" Aran shouted again. They started to run and the boys followed immediately, dropping the clothes they had just bought.
Two of the three pursuers moved quickly.
Cora and Aran ran and took the first available street. They pushed a pile of garbage behind them and young Allet showed the girls the way ahead.
"Stop!" the men demanded.
Cora and Aran entered the nearby market. They took advantage of the shadow of a cart and slipped into a knife shop to leave through the back entrance.
"Where do we go?" Cora panted.
They stopped for a moment, looking for a way out.
"This way!" Aran exclaimed and ran down an alley.
A dog barked behind them and the noise of broken wood even further away anticipated the curses of the shopkeepers. The pursuers were close. Cora's legs moved on their own.
After a few steps, Aran stumbled over a cat but leaned against the wall and remained standing.
"They're behind us," Cora shouted. They turned the corner and found themselves in a dead end alley.
"Damn it!" Aran cursed. Cora yanked him to resume their escape.
Before they could turn around, they heard footsteps. They were trapped.
They looked around. A wall in front of them, the men on their tail. A house with windows.
Aran pushed the door. "Let's go in."
Sneaking into an unfamiliar house was not ideal, but Cora thought they couldn't be picky at the moment.
Aran dove inside, Cora right after him. The landing was a forward roll and something fell to the ground with a tinkling sound. They found themselves in a dining room decorated with hunting trophies, old lamps, and a duchy banner above the shelf. "Do you think the girls were able to escape?" Cora asked.
"I don't know..." whispered Aran. "I hope so."
"What do you mean, you should know!" exclaimed Cora.
Aran grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him against the wall so hard that it moved a nearby curtain. "Do you want to stop? Do you want us to get caught?"
They held their breath and widened their eyes: the two men were in front of the window; they muttered a few phrases, but a word hit Cora like a punch in the face... "They're in here."
What had betrayed them? Their dirty footprints? Or the fact that there was no other way out?
The pursuers stumbled into the room. Before they realized it, Aran covered both of them with the curtain.
Someone opened the door from the other side. "And who are you?"
It was a woman with a distinct voice, holding a basket full of fruit; behind her, the hallway of the house.
"We..." mumbled one of the unwelcome guests. "You see, ma'am... we..."
She let out a scream that echoed through the yellowed walls of the house and filled the courtyard. The two big men exchanged a glance and a shrug. They puffed up their chests and stepped forward. The woman stepped back, but an elderly man emerged from another room. He brandished a long rusty halberd. In unison, the pursuers put a hand behind their back and pulled out a pistol: it was a weapon of Kharzanian make. They looked at the small Cec system with the Amanastrian cord and made a face of annoyance.
"No Seorite for you, no bullets!" shouted the old landlord.
Aran and Cora watched the scene from a crack and the latter shuddered when he noticed the foot of the Kharzanian stepping on a small metal plate: "his" metal plate.
"The medallion..." whispered Cora. Aran looked at him strangely.
"How dare you enter the house of a duke's soldier? Step back!" said the old man. He advanced with quick jabs into the void, as if he wanted to drive away two stray dogs. But his threat was nothing compared to the determined expression both Kharzanians assumed.
Aran took advantage of the moment of distraction and pushed Cora out of hiding. "Run!" he yelled. But Cora had a moment of confusion. Aran was already far away when Cora decided to throw himself between the pursuers and the old man. The woman, in surprise, dropped the basket and its contents spilled onto the ground. One of the soldiers tried to grab Cora by the arm. "NO!" shouted the boy. There was a small explosion and glass fragments fell on the heads of those present. The ceiling lamp went out. Cora reached out blindly, felt the metal on his fingers, tightened his grip and ran away.
He fled down the hallway and out the main entrance. He found Aran in a side street, busy enough to blend in with the crowd.
"What were you thinking?" Aran shouted.
"The girls!" Cora said instead. "Did they capture them?" he asked.
Young Allet grabbed him and gave him a harsh look. "I don't know if they've been caught, Cora! I don't know! Stop acting like I have a solution for everything! Let's try not to get killed now!" he growled. "Let's walk alongside those merchants."
A shout came from the house they had fled from. The old soldier from Amanastre must have been defeated. The crowd turned their heads. A misfortune for the old man, an opportunity for the boys.
They slipped into a narrow alley and checked from one end of the street to the other. Cora pointed to the dome of the Ducal Palace and took a step in that direction. "I'm not sure I remember the way from the square with the Goliath."
"I do," Aran said.