The three fish were cooking. They had started to take on a rosy colour, but since they didn't have a pot to cook them in, it would still take a while to get them cooked through. But eventually they would be cooked and so... 

Rolandus had inspected the stables, found a bucket to sit on and now there was nothing left for him to do but shout: "Marfisa! The fish are ready!" to which Marfisa could simply react by becoming as stiff as a piece of wood. She leaned forward, bringing her palm to her eyes, and said: "Damn Rolandus! And to say I was really trying to remain stealthy. And to say I wanted to check everything to make sure there was no one inside. I should have warned him, like, I'll be right back, don't shout, but I didn't, did I? I should have." 

"Marfisa! Lunch is ready!" said Rolandus. 

Marfisa rolled her eyes and said, "at least stop raging." 

With a shout like that, he would have been heard more than a hundred metres away, if not even more, because of the way the building was constructed and the fact that there were no soft furnishings, his voice bounced from wall to wall, reverberating through the entire building. 

Walls and pillars acted like a gigantic echo chamber reaching up to the upper floors of the fortress. No sooner had she heard his voice shout, "Marfisa! The fish are ready!", the echo went through the entire fortress several times and spread throughout the place. All the birds sleeping peacefully on the walls could be seen suddenly taking flight, followed by a huge rustling of beating wings. Rolandus realised that perhaps he should not have shouted so loudly.   

Meanwhile Marfisa tried to be as quiet as possible. She took the book she had found and put it in her backpack. She quickly peeked this way and that, to see if she saw anyone leaving or anything else. She looked out to see if she could see into the next room.   

She stretched out her ear and listened quickly through the door to the side but could not hear anything apart from noises coming from the previous room. She then moved the door slightly, a small crack, to take a fleeting glance inside. She looked inside and saw that it was full of glass jars and other similar objects, glasses, funnels and all sorts of alchemy equipment. Most of it was broken. There was broken glass on the floor, papers strewn about and books everywhere. 

Marfisa quickly turned around and saw that there were papers that had been written most recently on the edge table, the one next to the bookcase. There was glass here and there, it looked like there had been some kind of workshop. She simply crawled over to it. 

Meanwhile, the fish were ready. Rolandus had sat outside. He had just looked at the well-browned sauce on top of the fish and opened his mouth wide, took a bite out of one of them. He began to wonder why Marfisa had not come down yet. He continued to eat the fish. He would not eat them all, just something. For the moment he was not that hungry. He would take half for the moment, yes half... maybe even half of the second fish... maybe even a little more if Marfisa kept being late. 

And Marfisa was late. She noticed that there were two crates in the room. The larger crate seemed to contain test tubes and broken glasses and some bottles and things like that. They looked like test tubes for medicine or perfume. Some were empty, others filled with a substance she could not identify. Could she take the empty ones? How many could fit in her backpack? There were basically three intact ones and they had different shapes and heights. They probably would not have looked out of place inside a perfumery. 

The others were all broken or shattered. Of the three that Marfisa had taken, one had a liquid and the other two were empty. The one with the liquid seemed to have a silver liquid. It didn't smell of anything, but it was very heavy; maybe it was mercury or something. 

There were also many books. Books piled on top of other books, like a big pile of books. There were recent notes. The only readable one a poem, the others were burnt, torn or worn, but seemed to contain the same poem. Marfisa could not read it, but out of sheer curiosity she picked it up, perhaps thinking it might be important.  

Y' mgepah shuggoth mgep y’ grah ya lloig  

Ahor Y' mgr'luh, ngnah ahnythor y’ ph'nglui ahna n'ghft’  

Ahor Y' bug, ngnah ahnythor y’ llll fhtagn syha'h’?  

Marfisa grabbed the piece of paper and put it in her pocket, then looked at the neatly stacked stack of books. From the other notes she could get nothing from it. 

Meanwhile, Rolandus kept wondering why Marfisa hadn't heard him, so he wanted to get some more of that tasty fish, one of the bigger ones.   

"I guess we better check because Marfisa is taking forever to get back," Rolandus said to himself, "...regardless of whether lunch is ready." 

He took a wooden board and made his own makeshift flashlight and climbed the stairs. Marfisa seemed to have the same idea. A large cloud had covered the sun and the large number of bricked-up windows seemed to turn day into night with such realism that Marfisa had to check outside the window several times to be sure it was still daytime. 

She took a magnifying glass and with it set fire to a rag she had twisted around what had formerly been the leg of a chair. 

There was something uneasy about moving through ruins in broad daylight, as if night had come. Perhaps it was because of the unnatural darkness, perhaps it was because Marfisa felt like a thief moving silently with a torch in her hand, or perhaps it was because of those damned windows that for unknown reasons had been bricked up to leave a meagre strip of light, now obscured by clouds. 

Marfisa shook her head and returned to look at the large stack of books on the shelf. She pricked up her ears but could no longer hear the sound that had made her circumspectly enter. She couldn't hear anything. This did not mean that there was not someone there, but the longer the silence continued the more she had the impression that it must have been an animal. 

She heard something come out. Something she could imagine as a door that had opened to let someone out. Marfisa drew her sword and barely opened the door that led to the next room. It opened inward and she barely peeked through the door. She pushed it a little bit until she could stick her head in and saw someone. He wasn't facing her and was using a telescope. 

He seemed to be turning it around, left and right, as if he was looking at something down in the yard, something that seemed to have disappeared, forcing him to point the telescope left and right. 

He seemed to be scanning the courtyard pointing the telescope in different directions. There was no one else in the room, just him. 

Marfisa wanted to sneak up to get closer to him, but without crossing the point where she could be seen to see if there was anyone else in the room. 

She placed the torch on the floor, then she wrapped her cloak around her left arm. she was careful not to move too recklessly. She wanted to come up behind him just enough so she could reach him with her sword and ask him questions, when she saw him take a bow and point it at someone standing in the courtyard. 

It was then that Marfisa snapped forward, trying to chop off his head. The man noticed her and quickly threw his cloach against her blinding her. She took off the cloak as quickly as she could. It was at that moment that she could clearly see the creature. For a creature it was. The man, although a man could only be called a man because he walked on two legs, had an elongated snout, two pointed ears and long tapering fingers. He was something more like a dog or a mouse, but the thing that scared her most was that in his eyes was the intelligence of a man. Was it one of the famous cynocephali? It didn't matter at the time. 

He threw his bow at her, then took up his sword. As soon as he pulled it from its scabbard, she swung her sword, which cut into the side of his neck. Blood spurted out of his wound, covering the wall. She hit him again and this time he fell over dead. 

Her blade was dripping with blood and the body of the creature lay before her. It seemed as if time had stopped, while drops of blood continued to drip from the blade. She killed someone... or something. What was it? Her heart began beating fast. She looked around carefully. She took the telescope and put it in her backpack, then took the torch and left the room. Outside she found herself in a narrow corridor with doors opening onto each other. She went through them all, finding nothing unusual. When she came upon another door, she decided to go through it. 

Marfisa found himself in front of a balcony that overlooked the level below. There were many missing bricks in the wall, there was water coming in through the slits, there were no glass windows in that building. There was a very exuberant smell of moss, made bearable by the smell of fish coming from outside. She began to wonder where the hell Rolandus was, when she heard someone coming down the stairs. Marfisa was about to say: "Damn you took your time" when an arrow went straight past your head. It was certainly not Rolandus and Marfisa had no intention of finding out who it was. 

She ran back and ducked into the stairwell, taking cover behind the wall. A second arrow went straight past her head, breaking through the wall. The arrowhead snapped, bouncing back to her feet. She looked up in surprise and saw two cynocephali coming towards her. One had a small crossbow and was ready to release but was busy reloading. The other had a short sword and shield and was running down the railing towards her. 

Marfisa bent down and drew her sword. She wanted to catch him as soon as he turned the corner, but then decided to retreat and look for Rolandus. 

"It's about time we saw some action," said a voice behind her. 

She made her way down the spiral staircase but kept stopping at every corner to peek if there were no enemies and then ran through the corridor to a large hall, where an arrow grazed her cheek. 

Marfisa looked up. She saw a man on the second level of the fortress. He was the cynocephalus armed with a crossbow and was pointing it at her from behind the stone railing, shouting orders to the man armed with the short sword and small shield. He was shouting in a Persian dialect something like, "Can you see them? How many are there?" moving from one balcony to the other. 

Marfisa tried to lean out, but an arrow hissed close to her cheek. She would have done better to run, but the sound of footsteps coming from behind her made her realise that the way was blocked. Could she have run back? Maybe force her way through? No, the corridor was too narrow. Whoever was coming would have blocked her passage just long enough for someone to flank her from the opposite side. Perhaps the ideal would have been to run in the opposite direction: she would have risked being hit by an arrow, but if she had managed to squeeze into some room that wasn't a dead end, she could have saved herself. 

"Madalgarius," she whispered. "I don't want to die here. Not now. It's unfair." She felt her own arm tremble, then the cynocephalus pointed his bow at Marfisa and fired another shot, which pierced her shoulder. 

She screamed, fell forward onto her knees, but she was not injured yet. The arrow had pierced the hauberk but had not passed beyond the gambeson. 

Marfisa took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. What am I doing? she thought to herself. I am the great Marfisa Ulpia Vopisca, gladiatrix in the amphitheatre of Rome and only defeated by Rogerius and Hermanubius. With all my weapons of iron and steel, with what face, with what lack of shame dare I be afraid? 

The cynocephali shouted again, their voices echoing against the walls. 

Marfisa again took a deep breath, after which she put on the helmet on her back and entered the room. 

She moved slowly, both to avoid being attacked immediately and to have time to look for escape routes. 

It was incredibly dark there as there were only open windows on one side of the fortress, so much of the area was considerably obscured. She had his torch, which was nothing more than a piece of wood with a rag at one end. Fully ablaze it was illuminating her, the walls around her, and the corner she had hidden in, but the majority of the room remained veiled in a semi-darkness that made it difficult for her to judge her surroundings: except for the fact that she had an armed creature in front of her, another above pointing a crossbow at her, and another reaching for her. 

She moved towards the fireplace and began to speak in an authoritative voice in Persian, mixed with what she knew of Sarmatian. 

"My name is Marfisa Ulpia Vopisca, daughter of the emperor Volusius, and I have no ill intentions towards you, I am just a person passing through." 

Thus she said, partly because.... well, you know how Marfisa is, a hint of haughtiness she always had, she didn't lack a bit of wisdom. After all, if you, my lords, had the daughter of one of the richest men in the world in front of you, would you harm her or take her? Perhaps for a kind reward. 

The cynocephali looked at her mildly surprised. Broadly speaking, they could understand her words, but a woman in elegant armour with the appearance of a black swan was not something they had seen before. Nevertheless, it was not difficult for them to realise that she who stood before them, if she could afford such armour, could also afford a generous ransom. 

"To be honest, I did not know what to do with you; but the more I speak aloud about it, the more I am convinced that we cannot let such a beautiful young lady go alone. I am sure your family can afford to reward us for generously looking after you in such an unsafe place," said the cynocephalus with the crossbow. 

To these words Marfisa replied thus, while trying to extract as much information as possible from that room: "Your offer is generous, but there is someone I am looking for and I cannot afford to be stuck here for weeks. Let me therefore make you a generous offer: accept the money I bring with me, and I guarantee you that you will not be disturbed or bothered by my family; but if you refuse this offer of mine, then rest assured you will regret it." 

"Your offer is not as generous as you would have us believe," said the crossbowman, "...for the moment you entered this room, nothing you wear belongs to you any longer. So now be good and throw down your weapons and armour. You'd better take them off yourself, because if we must take them off forcibly, we can't guarantee that the dress you're wearing will remain very much intact. In fact, I'll tell you what, since the more I talk the more ideas I get, take off all that armour and be nice to us. If you are nice enough, you will see that we will treat you well."  

Marfisa drew her sword, pushing away a cynocephalus who was approaching too impudently, but said nothing, pondering what to do and continuing to dart her amethyst-coloured eyes left and right, searching for ways out. Now the stairs were clear, she could perhaps venture to throw herself onto those steps. Then there was perhaps what appeared to be a door in the distance, which she could close behind her before making her escape. She was not certain, however, that this was the best solution, for if few could catch up with her in a race, she was not too sure how fast she could run with the full weight of her armour on. 

She also pondered whether she could behave nicely with them, after all, she always had been popular with men. If everyone in the Empire agreed on anything, it was that she had always been the most beautiful woman of the world (beside me of course) and beside many men had already touched her. Once they had let their guard down, she would have her chance to escape. 

Something snapped in her soul that made her forget all wisdom and caution, while her pride rose like a flame. By all the high gods, what a sacrilege had been proposed to her ears. She who out of pride and arrogance had sent Madalgarius away, who had also made her heartbeat faster than any other person in the world, now owed her pretty to such scoundrels? She who had wept in bed like a wretched maiden, for Venus had played with her heart, now must she willingly lie with such creatures? A god seemed to possess her soul. She was on a path blazed by the gods, and she would not allow such a stain on her fate to find Madalgarius. 

Marfisa laughed and a mad laugh echoed through the corridors of the fortress. So, laughing as if in the grip of divine madness, she threw the torch aside, causing it to fall into the fireplace where wood that had been there drying for who knows how many decades caught fire in a rapid blaze. The shadows immediately grew long and dark, like menacing claws rapidly unravelling from Marfisa's body. The flames stirred and stirred, while the shadow of a large black swan-headed hydra formed on the floor, which, dancing to the rhythm of the fire, menaced these bandits. 

“I am Marfisa Ulpia Vopisca…” she said in an arrogance not seen even when the giants had dared to challenge the gods, “…there is no man who can take me unless I desire it, and I do not. I will certainly not covet with scoundrels like you. So come, come and get your prize and don't be afraid of hurt me. I would avoid using arrows, but this armour is strong. It can withstand a few blows without damaging your prize, but if a prize want you will have to win it. Just as you will have to win my family's money. Don't be afraid, come forward! Otherwise get out of the way. I have other plans than to stay and play with you." 

Thus said Marfisa and with her left hand she grabbed the cloak, then spread her arms showing her chest, as the second style of fencing teaches to encourage the opponent to attack, but they remained motionless and confused as to what to do. 

In all honesty not even Marfisa knew exactly what to do or what she was doing. One-on-two combat wasn't one of the gladiatorial games she had the most experience with, but she knew a few tricks. She stood with her head held high, laughing like crazy, until her gaze was captured by little Rolandus who had just looked out of one of the doors on the second floor. The eyes of both met and there was immediately a tacit understanding. 

Marfisa took a deep breath and put herself in a guard position, moving slightly to the side in such a way as to prevent the two bandits from flanking her; after which she recalled in her mind all her notions of fencing, starting from the third style: she had to imagine a circle around herself and her opponents, whose radius was equivalent to the range of action of their weapons, and stay out of their reach while remaining close enough for them to quickly enter their own. 

She leapt forward, pounced on the nearest bandit as the other tried in vain to rescue him. Marfisa continued to move left and right with the fluidity of a pendulum, always making sure that only one opponent was in front of her at a time. 

Eventually the second bandit seemed to get tired of the game and attempted to force his way forward. Marfisa intercepted him with a shot and stabbed him in the abdomen. Her blade would have entered deeper if the first bandit hadn't intervened, slashing her right forearm and forcing her sword down. With her left hand, however, Marfisa threw her cloak on his sword and with a jerk pulled it towards her disarming him. Then she moved to the side again so that she always had only one opponent who could attack her. 

Meanwhile the crossbowman remained undecided: would Marfisa's armour block the arrow of a crossbow? Maybe yes, but that woman was a precious hostage. Was she lying when she said not to use arrows against her if they wanted to have her as a prize? It was a long moment of indecision, which allowed Rolandus to intervene with less effort. 

The catizus put on his lion helmet and took a deep breath. He had to run to the crossbowman, hit him on the weapon, hit his knee and sneak up behind him. He had to run to the crossbowman, hit him on the weapon, hit his knee and sneak up behind him. 

He repeated this plan several times so that fear and indecision would not block him at the least opportune moment, then he snapped. He raised his sword in both hands and struck the crossbow, setting off an arrow that ricocheted off the wall, attracting Marfisa's attention. 

Rolandus didn't give the crossbowman time to understand what had happened: he stepped back, causing a slight cut on his leg with the blade, then with the hilt of his sword he struck him in the knee, forcing him to duck. It was at that moment that with a leap, he sneaked up behind him and struck. 

A dry thud, but nothing. He had miscalculated and was now too close. He hadn't left enough room to swing hard enough, and the blade bounced off the crossbowman's ribs, leaving no wound. 

The crossbowman spun first blocking a blow with his forearm and then grabbing him by the armour and throwing him against the ground. He held him down with one hand, blocking his right arm with the other. 

Marfisa wasted no time. She let go of her cloak and grabbed the dagger and threw it with as much force as she had in her arm. It was an inaccurate shot, one that didn't even come close to hitting the crossbowman, but the sound of the blade slamming against the stone railing caused him to spin his head. It was in that moment of distraction that Rolandus took his sword in his left hand and attempted to strike him in the neck. 

The crossbowman had to release his grip with one hand, but rather than continue the fight in those conditions, he yanked him with the other arm and threw him against the wall with such violence that he would have killed the catizus if it hadn't been for the helmet he wore. 

“Rolandus!” cried Marfisa and all the calm and confidence she felt in her body vanished. 

No more caution, no more holding on. She fired a volley of slashes at an opponent unused to wielding a sword. Those slashing strokes were too quick for his arm. The point of Marfisa's blade found its way into his chest. 

The other bandit hid behind his small shield, but Marfisa didn't care. She wrapped her cloak around her forearm and charged vehemently. The cloak cushioned the blow coming from the bandit's sword. Marfisa grabbed the opponent's blade with her hand and pushed it aside. A quick slash and Marfisa cut off his head and then moved him to the side. Without a moment's hesitation she slipped the hilt of her sword between her index and ring fingers and threw it like a javelin. 

The bandit, attracted by the screams of his companions, turned and with a movement of his arm pushed aside Marfisa's improvised javelin, but her intervention was still fatal. In that precious second Rolandus rose and struck the crossbowman again in the leg, knocking him to his knees, leapt after him, closed his eyes and chopped off his head. 

Rolandus felt his breathing and his heart calm down, but when he opened his eyes again his pulse and lungs stopped. Blood dripped from his blade and the sight of him made him feel like he was inside a bubble. 

“Rolandus. Rolandus!” said Marfisa. 

Rolandus woke up suddenly. Only then did he realize that Marfisa's hands were on his shoulders. 

“Rolandus! Everything OK?" asked Marfisa. 

Rolandus looked around, before moving his gaze over the stone railing, where the two men killed by Marfisa lay. Had she been that quick up the stairs? Or was he the one who lost track of time? 

"Books!" Rolandus said suddenly. 

“…?” 

"Books. There is a room full of books. You like books." 

Marfisa smiled hearing that the first thing Rolandus wanted to tell her were the books he found. Rolandus is a true friend, but I think we've agreed to close it for today. There's been enough excitement for today and I think our two heroes need some rest and I think I do too. But my pen trembles at the thought of telling you what happens next, so I hope you will do me the honour of reading the words, which in the next chapter I will prepare for you.