It did not take Chlodvig long to pack everything onto the horses’ backs and they were soon ready to leave. Rhode sat behind him on the horse again, her arms around his waist, staring at the ripped maille on his back. The maille and tunic were stained in blood all around the tear. But the skin was whole. When she asked if his wounds didn’t hurt him, Chlodvig shrugged and said that they were already healing. He pulled out a waterskin from one of the saddle bags and drank its entire contents right before mounting the horse. Rhode watched him curiously. It had to be blood that he was drinking, she realized, repulsed and fascinated at the same time.

The horse fell into a gallop and Rhode tightened her arms around Chlodvig’s waist without realizing it. She was too deep in thought. Her mind raced, trying to process all the things she had learned since this insanity started. Vampires, magic, Loukos being something supernatural. This last thing bothered her greatly. She could now remember numerous instances in which Loukos acted oddly. Instances which made more sense in light of the recent revelations. But if these ‘half-bloods’, as Chlodvig had called them, were indeed immortal, at least until their supply of vampire blood ran out, then how come Loukos had died? Had his blood supply ran out? Why didn’t he make sure to secure more? There were many possible explanations; perhaps he had grown tired of living? Surely living too long could get overwhelming. Perhaps he had been murdered, and the murder only made look like it was age that had taken the translator’s life. Or perhaps he had not died at all? Perhaps Loukos faked his own death? But why? Was it connected to the book?

Here Rhode’s thoughts turned to the books. She had checked all their titles and none of them sounded in anyway supernatural. Chlodvig seemed to believe that their pursuer would not care for regular books. But she was sure that all the books she took were mathematics and philosophy. Her Arabic was good enough to understand the titles at least. Unless…unless there was something hidden IN one of the Arabic books. When she was packing them, she only checked their titles – there hadn’t been time to actually look through them. People often wrote comments in the margins – perhaps something supernatural was written there? Or maybe there were extra leaves sewn into the book to mask them from unwanted attention?

Rhode did not like secrets and mysteries. She liked puzzles. But trying to figure out what people were hiding, and why, was very overwhelming for her. Humans created so many options of interpretation. Her mind swirled as soon as she tried to think of them.

Finally the regular sound of hooves hitting the ground as the horses galloped calmed her mind. The night was a beautiful one. The sky was clear and the stars shone beautifully. But the rain from earlier left everything looking clean and fresh and smelling of wet earth. She realized that the ride itself was almost enjoyable. Or it would have been, if not for the pain in her thighs. She had never guessed simply sitting on a horse could lead to so much pain, if one wasn’t used to it. In the places her legs did not hurt, they felt like jelly.

Apart from this considerable unpleasantness however, the views, the sound of the horses’ hooves, the ever moving landscape, and the stillness of the night were calming and satisfying. Not wishing to ruin the silence, neither of them spoke for many hours.

*

The night was almost coming to an end when Rhode, looking from behind Chlodvig’s back, saw the gleam of fire and the dark shapes of tents. As they neared it, it became more and more clear they had reached the mercenaries’ campsite. It lay in the nook of a small river, surrounded at all sides by a palisade made of wooden pikes. The pikes were sticking out at an angle, creating a border of sharp points aimed at incoming people. There were 4 tents standing in the camp, a very big fire, with meat cooking above it, and a patch of ground where the horses stood. The whole place had a feel of minimalist efficiency – clearly the mercenaries had set up the camp quickly, but thoroughly.

As they rode closer, Rhode noticed that two figures dressed in cloaks over their armour stood at the entrance to the camp. One of them had eyes glowing like small fires in her face.

“Captain’s back!” the woman with the glowing eyes shouted in Greek. The same sentence was then repeated in Latin.

Soon, they passed between the two armored mercenaries who greeted them energetically, and entered the campsite. As Chlodvig stopped his horse still, people flooded around them. One man was already taking the reins of the pack horses and rubbing their necks. Another one was unloading the saddle bags. A tall man with long hair passed Chlodvig a full wineflask. Eirene, Chlodvig’s imposing second-in-command, reported quickly:

“We arrived yesterday and set camp to wait for you, Captain. The Dokeianos family are all here safely. The archont’s wounds have been seen to,” then in a quieter voice she said: “Chlodvig, the archont and his wife were not pleased about you going off with her!” here Eirene nodded in Rhode’s direction, “The archont’s wife has been nagging my ear off all yesterday!”

As if in confirmation of Eirene’s words, Sophia stepped out of the tent which had been set up for her and her family. Michael, her husband, followed behind her, supporting himself with a crutch. His face still showed the signs of the beating he got during the interrogation; one eye was so swollen it was hardly visible. The nose was covered by a purple-green bruise all around the break, but at least someone had set it properly. The remains of Michael’s beard had been shaved off, and his upper lip drooped in one place, where his teeth had been knocked out.

Unlike her husband, Sophia looked excellent. She looked like a noble lady on a hunting trip, not a refugee from an invaded city. Untypically for her, her hair was down, but that was simply because she had been asleep. She had thrown a large cloak and veil over her nightgown and hair quickly, and yet still managed to look neat and presentable.

She approached the group in brisk, confident steps. She gave Chlodvig an icy look, then spoke to Rhode:

“Get off that horse right now!”

The chill from Sophia’s voice made Rhode shudder. She quickly let go of Chlodvig and tried to get off the horse. Chlodvig gently supported her, without saying a word. When she was on the ground, Sophia gripped her shoulder hard and nudged her towards the tent.

“Inside,” she hissed in an undertone, “go wash and change. You look appalling.”

Rhode nodded meekly and hurried towards the tent without a word. Michael turned around and walked with her.

Sophia, not in the least intimidated by Chlodvig’s men around her, turned to the mercenary, who had dismounted from his horse and was taking off its saddle and harness.

“You had no right to take her away like that!” she said icily, “You besmirched her reputation!”

Chlodvig turned around to look at her. Even off the horse, he still towered above her, but Sophia did not even flinch as he took a step towards her.

“She hired me to do a job. I did it. That’s all!” he said clearly, looking Sophia in the eye.

“A job?” Sophia scoffed, “and how, pray, did she pay you for this job?”

“I don’t discuss such things with third parties!”

“I’m not a third party. I’m her legal guardian.”

Chlodvig shrugged.

“To me, you are just the subject of my contract with Alexander Vranas,” he replied flatly.

Sophia glared at him. His words had clearly struck a nerve.

“You will get no money from us, filth, regardless of what Rhode promised you!” she snapped. Then she turned around quickly and walked away, ending the conversation.

Chlodvig watched her go, his face expressionless. Then he turned to his men.

“I want Egil, Assaf and Nino on watch. Akterion, have you set up your wards?”

“Yes sir. All around the camp. No one who isn’t specifically looking for us, will notice us!”

“Good. It is unlikely, but we might have company, someone who is looking specifically for us, during the day. If that happens, wake me! Even if it’s daylight. Pack everything that can be packed already. Tomorrow we leave as soon as the sun goes down!”

The mercenaries scrambled to do as he said, gossiping among each other in confusion.