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They came to wake her up shortly before dawn.

Helena shook herself from her torpor. She was still holding Eleisa’s hand, she had fallen asleep in the shelter. She realized someone had put a blanket on her shoulders.

Only after these observations she heard the low voice calling her.

«My Exarch.» Ergon whispered to her. «We have a problem.»

She blinked a few more times. «What problem?»

«We found them. The last four missing citizens.» her advisor’s tone was as tense as his expression.

«Why would this be a problem?» There was something he was not telling her.

Ergon hesitated before answering. «For… multiple reasons. It will be quicker to show you rather than explain by words. Come with me.»

Helena removed her blanket and cautiously let go of the hand of the blind woman, still asleep.

She followed Ergon outside, where she was met with a cold gust of wind. The long tail of summer was finally past them: if during the day the weather was still pleasantly warm, in the sun’s absence adequate covering was once again becoming a necessity. And judging from the clouds rolling through the sky, that day the sun would keep them waiting.

She and Ergon were not the only ones already awake. It seemed the gates of Istak had just been opened, and already a great crowd had formed around them. It was mostly made of selyann in their gray and dusty clothes, but a not insignificant minority were citizens of Elis coming from the camp. There was no movement, they were all standing still in front of the open gates. A troubled murmur filled the air.

«Move away, Ergon.» she told him. «You must not be seen together with me.»

«As you wish.» the mekhan stood aside, as Helena made her way through the crowd to see the cause of their gathering. No one cared to even look at her.

«How horrible…» she heard in the tongue of Shavek.

«I can’t look at them.»

«That can’t be!» she heard in the tongue of the Principate.

«What’s going to happen to us…?»

«Poor children…»

«This place is cursed!»

«They’re citizens of Elis! Look at their clothes!»

«Of course they are! I knew them. They had taken refuge into the city. But not even that saved them.»

Helena finally passed beyond the crowd, reaching a group of guardsmen who prevented any further advance. But she was not ready to what she saw behind them.

Lying in front of the gates, like abandoned bags of flour, there were four bodies.

Their throats had been cut with a sharp instrument, as if they had been animals at a butcher’s shop, or as in an execution.

They were a man, a woman… and two children.

Despite all of her self-control, Helena heard a scream leave her lips, and covered her mouth with her hand.

«You’re a difficult person to find, Stefan’s daughter. Lucky for you, if I dare to say so.»

She immediately recognized the voice behind her, and also the two women who had silently positioned to her sides.

«Keep looking forward. No need to draw attention.» Bek-cherek murmured, in a voice just loud enough for her to hear.

«What happened? Who did this?» she asked him, without looking away from the bodies. With the corner of her eye she saw captain Astor watching over her.

The spy made an amused snort. «From a certain point of view, you yourself, Stefan’s daughter. From another, they themselves.»

«What is that supposed to mean?» she hissed.

«Calm down. And forgive my cruel joke, I apologize. Still, even humor contains a grain of truth. Think. The one responsible can only be the one person for whom your citizen are a bothersome obstacle.»

«You mean…» Helena took a deep breath and tried to calm down as he had told her to. «the lord did this?»

«Your camp was attacked, by someone seeking you. Someone who knew where to find you because Zamoshan had informed them. These people escaped inside the walls, seeking shelter. Their mistake was to go to the palace alone. One man, one woman and two children can scarcely do anything against an entire contingent of armed guards.»

«But why…?» Helena could not conceive it. It made no sense.

«Because Zamoshan never had any intention to grant protection to anyone. Since the start, his was only a ruse to get to you. Your citizens are only a burden on his reserves of grain. The only reason he hasn’t yet done the same to all those gathered on his staircase is that they’re too many for him to make them quietly disappear.»

«You call this “quietly disappearing”?!» Helena had to force herself to not raise her voice.

«Stefan’s daughter, do you still not understand? Had it been for the lord, you’d have never seen these four again. Fortunately, we managed to at least recover the bodies.»

«You did this? You’re the one who arranged this spectacle?»

«Grisly, I’ll admit.» said the spy, calmly. «And yet instructive. Especially for those who still believe the lord will welcome them with open arms.» There was a movement behind Helena, then the man’s voice drew closer. «Consider it a favor on my part. Now your people will behave less naively. And it will be easier to make them all flee, as you so wantonly request.»

At that moment, Helena understood. She understood far more than what the spy wanted her to.

It was as if a veil had been lifted from her mind. Suddenly it became clear to her not only what had happened, but what she needed to do.

She straightened her back and relaxed her arms. «Tell me, Bek-cherek. You already have a plan to reach Hinzan after we have escaped from here, haven’t you?»

«Of course, Stefan’s daughter. It’s been ready for days. And luckily accommodating you will not require changing it.»

«Then prepare to put it in motion.»

This seemed to surprise him. «Did you change your mind and decide to leave alone? I’m not complaining, but…»

«Not in the slightest.» she interrupted him, almost surprising herself with how cold yet calm her voice sounded. «I will leave with all of my people.»

«But I still have to find a way to…»

«You no longer need to find anything.» she interrupted him again. «I will take care of that. You need only to prepare yourself to guide us to your country when the time comes.»

As she finished, she discreetly turned and looked at him. She saw him curl his thick lips, as surprise and confusion alternated on his face.

«Fine.» he said, after what had looked like an interval of deep ponderation. «As you wish. I will prepare.»

Then he left, wading through the crowd with an agility and gracefulness that clashed with his large physique, and vanished as if he had never been there. When Helena looked around, the two women had disappeared as well.

She too moved away from that horrible scene and headed back to her camp. Ergon joined back with her.

Though he seemed to wish to tell her something, she spoke first: «Send someone to our fellow citizens in front of the palace. Let them know what happened, and let it be clear to them that Zamoshan’s protection is as fallible as mine, if not more.»

«Yes, my Exarch.»

«And then call Astor. We need to contact Kuts of the selyann, and at the same time convey a message to all citizens as inconspicuously as possible: before the day is over, we are leaving this camp.»

«Before the day is over?»

«Before the day is over. And if everyone follows my instructions, none of our enemies will realize it.»

There was much to do.

This would be a particularly difficult game of chess. And she prayed it was not already too late for the move she intended to make.

******

Most of the tent’s occupants were still asleep, when Helena entered.

However, Kalos Aregonid was nowhere to be seen.

In his stead…

«Already awake at this hour, “Agatha”?»

Artor Deutarid was securing something to his belt. He had changed clothes, now wearing a white kamisa, a dark glue gilek and earth-colored pants.

«If you’re looking for Kal, he’s already finished preparing and is about to depart.»

Helena had hoped that she could speak with Kalos. But this was fine as well.

«You are going with him.» It was neither a question nor an order. Only an observation.

«Yes.» the young man answered.

«I have a message for him. Would you mind relaying it to him?»

«Not at all.» Artor took another object and secured it to the other side of his belt. Moving closer, Helena recognized a sword an a bag of bullets.

«A sword?»

«And not just that.» Artor took back in his hand the second object and showed it to her: it was a mikra, but not a model made in the Principate, and not even one of those of the Federation, with their rotating barrel.

«Who did you take these from?»

«Someone who will no longer need them.» Artor holstered it once more to his belt.

I will have to send someone to check the So’el corpse, if it has not been buried yet.

«They say robbing the dead brings ill luck.»

«Do you want me to go put them back?»

Helena chuckled. «Would you do so, if I asked you to?»

He seemed to consider it, before answering: «No. I need them.»

«I can understand the mikra, but why the sword? Do you not have…»

Only as she said that, she thought of a possibility she had overlooked until that moment.

«Wait. Are you…?»

«You spoke of a message.» Helena caught the tinge of annoyance in his voice. She opted to not press further: that was a sensitive subject, and now was not the time.

«Yes. Tell him that once you have rescued Agatha you must not return here. Go north instead.»

«You want us to cross the border and go to Hinzan, like that spy told you?» Artor lowered his voice as he said that.

«Not exactly.»

Helena explained to him more in detail what she wanted them to do, and she gave him what they would need for that purpose.

«Alright.» Artor put the object in his gilek. «When the time comes I’ll tell him. But I want to ask you something.»

I should have expected this.

«You speak as if you were certain we will save Agatha and come back in one piece. What makes you so sure we’ll succeed?»

Helena felt tempted to answer him “Because I trust you”, then she remembered that Artor had asked her not to lie to him.

«I am not “sure” of that. That is merely the result I want. I want you to come back. I need you.»

Artor reacted in an unexpected way.

He laughed. He laughed in a low voice, in an almost grim way.

«Forgive me.» he said, after shaking his head and taking a deep breath. «I did not expect such an answer. Still, I will oblige it.»

He put on a mantle and headed for the exit. As he passed by her, he finished: «I’ll do my best so that Kal and the others come back to you.»

---

Kal was at the edge of the camp. Even with his mantle covering him, she felt a little cold. As he looked on, the refugees started to wake up and get out of their tents. He had noticed a bizarre gathering in front of the gates, but at the moment he had other matters to think about.

«Are you sure you can carry all that stuff by yourself?»

Fyra was beside him.

«Yeah, I can.» he answered her, adjusting the travel bag’s weight on his back.

«Did you say goodbye to your mom?»

«No. I don’t want to make her worry.»

She heard her sighing. «She’ll worry anyway, stupid.»

Kal knew that, of course he knew that. The truth was…

«I-I’m not brave enough to tell her in person, alright?» Her mother still didn’t know about Agatha, and he was afraid that if he spoke to her she’d figure out everything. Ark had assured him someone would take care of her, and that was what mattered most.

Fyra sighed again.

«What about you?» Kal felt the need to quickly change the subject. «Did you say goodbye to your grandparents?»

After a moment of hesitation, Fyra answered: «I left them a note.»

«So you weren’t brave enough either…»

«Look, here comes Ark. And stop sighing!»

They watched Ark exit the tent and come toward them.

«Let’s go.» he said, once he reached them.

They set off on the road that started from the gates of Istak. The small houses of the selyann were still in the shade, and the only thing passing through the alleys was the whistle of the wind.

Kal saw the Old Man standing motionless on one side of the road. He had positioned himself so that he could easily keep an eye on both the road and the tents. Kal could have mistaken him for a statue, until the man turned his head in his direction and gave him a solemn nod. Kal answered in kind.

«So, where must we go?» Fyra asked.

«For now we go along this road until we’re out of the city. Then we must proceed north-west.»

«No other instructions? How do we know where the north-west is?»

Ark joined in: «During the day we can use the sun. And during the night we can use the constellations. Yesterday was your birthday, Kal, so today is the first of Drako. This time of the year…» he paused, as he recalled the information «It should be easy to locate the Three Messengers in the sky. We’ll just have to go in the direction they set.»

«What if the sky remains cloudy?» she replied.

«Let’s pray it does not.» was his quick answer.

«Wait!»

A shout came from the camp behind them. Someone was running toward them while wildly gesturing with his arms.

When the figure got closer, Kal saw it was Elef. «Wait!» he repeated, before tripping and falling a few steps from them.

After getting back up, he said: «Take me with you! I beg you!»

Kal started to object: he had already involved enough people. «Elef, no…»

However his friend interrupted him: « I know everything, Kalos! I figured out what happened! You’re going off to save Agatha, aren’t you? Let me help you!»

He had dark circles under his eyes, and looked desperate.

«Elef…» Kal tried to say again.

«I can help!» Elef interrupted him again. «I… I can help! I want to help.»

He grabbed his shoulders. Kal felt he was almost leaning onto him.

«If I stood here doing nothing, I’d never be able to forgive myself. Please, Kalos. I beg you…»

Kal couldn’t bear to see him like that. Finally, his pity had the better of him. He took a deep breath, getting ready to say: “Alright.”

But right then, Ark punched Elef, making him lose his grip on Kal and making him fall to the ground.

Fyra exclaimed: «Hey!» but Ark ignored her. He approached Elef, who was trying to get back up as he held a hand on his cheek.

«W-Why did you do that?» he whined. «I was just trying to he…»

Ark leaned forward and grabbed him by the collar of his uniform.

«You are in no condition to help anyone.» he told him, coldly. «And even if you were, right now you don’t really want to. The only one you’re trying to help is yourself. I won’t let you come with us just to redeem yourself and get your confidence back. Get. Lost.»

He straightened up, dusting off his clothes, then he resumed walking down the road, surpassing Kal and Fyra.

Elef was left sitting on the ground, looking at him leave with teary eyes.

Not without hesitation, Kal followed Ark, and so did Fyra, giving Elef one last compassionate glance.

«Don’t you think you were a little too harsh on him?» Kal asked Ark.

«In his current state of mind he’d just get himself killed.» his friend replied.

«But you can’t be certain that is his state of mind.» Fyra said. «Maybe he really meant to help us.»

«If that’s the case, then he’ll get back up and come after us. The only thing that could stop him would be the knowledge that everything I said is true.»

Elef didn’t get back up, nor he came after them.

As they got away, Kal began hearing a faint repeating sound, full of sadness.

It took him a while to realize it was Elef’s disconsolate sob.

---

Jassan yawned, looking up at the leaden sky. It wasn’t even lunchtime and he was already feeling tired.

This will be a long day, he thought. It wasn’t enough to have suffered that sudden attack the day before, even that morning had started with those corpses in front of the western gate. “For today, make an effort to at least pretend you are vigilant” his commander had told him.

Thinking back to that, Jassan snorted. He hated his job. He was the son of one of the lord Zamoshan’s ministers, so why did he have to waste his days mounting guard on the walls? Why not make some dumb mercenary do that? He wasn’t born for this!

His gaze fell on the camp of their “guests”. They were a weird people, who spoke a different language. His father had talked to him about some grave events far to the west, but he hadn’t really listened. Why care about whatever happened beyond the walls?

He almost didn’t see the small group of people exiting one of the tents and heading out of the camp, vanishing into the alleys of Outer Istak. But they were dressed in gray anyway, they were selyann, unworthy of his attention.

Some time later, another small group of selyann emerged from another tent. Curious, Jassan thought, looks like our guests have learned to appreciate being served as well.

The thought made him grin. Those foreigners had more common sense than some of the city’s inhabitants. Just two days before, at a banquet organized by the lord, one of the invited dignitaries had said: “Perhaps it is time to reassess the division between dvar and selyann. We are all Shavekian brothers after all.”

Me, brother of those mangy dogs!? Ridiculous. He was a descendant of heroes, who had fought bravely to build a future of peace and prosperity for their people. They were the descendants of cowards who, when war came, had preferred to hide or run. As such, they deserved to toil in the fields and to serve those of superior blood, forever.

On this, he and his father agreed. But Jassan really couldn’t understand how this at the same time meantthat he had an obligation to work as a city guard. Senile old imbecile.

Lost in these thoughts, he kept observing the coming and going of selyann from the tents. Or rather, mostly the “going”. He still hadn’t seen a singly gray-clad figure coming toward the camp. It was always groups of five or six, and often one or two of them used crutches or otherwise needed the others to move. Furthermore, the crowd of foreigners with their bizarre clothes was thinning out. If when he had begun his shift he could see dozens of them outside, now everyone seemed to have sneaked back into their tents.

Could it be some weird lunchtime ritual?

…Not that it mattered all that much. The truth was he was getting hungry.

But even if only out of fear of the consequences of being caught, Jassan didn’t descend to get something to eat before the end of his shift.

And this saved him.

Because when the authorities of Istak realized that the refugee camp a few steps from their gates was completely deserted and their precious guests had left without a trace, they looked for someone to take the blame for it. But the sentinel Jassan had been faultless in his work, and thought it was true that he had not noticed anything strange that morning, his colleagues had not noticed anything either. Nobody had noticed anything.

Of course his father, in private, scolded him. But, in the end, there was no helping it.

Who, among the good dvar of Istak, would have ever thought of paying attention to some gray selyann? They all looked the same!