"The Ironhand is here, Fyodor." The huge Slavic man gestured to Cassian with a deferential tilt of the head. "He says he wishes to discuss a matter of business."

  Fyodor Highplains stopped oiling his tack and saddle for a moment, studying Cassian with his good eye. "Rare for you to be out of your forge so late, Cassian. Is the need for steel work so little that you have to drum up business on your own?"

  "Hardly," Cassian said with a laugh. "The need is as great as ever. To tell you the truth the forgemaster nearly turned purple when I told him I was leaving his shop. The business I want to discuss involves me hiring you this time."

  Fyodor slowly folded his oil cloth and set it aside then dismissed the man who had escorted Cassian to the stable yard with the wave of a hand. "Is that so? Can I ask what the commission would be?"

  "I need two or three other people willing to go on a retrieval mission along the Drownway with me."

  "What would we be retrieving?"

  "A caravan with three wagons worth of cargo, plus any survivors from the merchants and guards." Cassian hesitated for a moment, debating whether he should mention Cazador being among the caravan or not. Ultimately he figured candor was the best policy. After all, Carpathea had figured it out easily enough. Hopefully the Arminger would be along for the ride as well in which case even if there was a good reason to hide the fact it was unlikely to work for very long. "My older brother is also one of the guards."

  "Ah." Fyodor looked upset when he heard that. "I had wondered. You never expressed interest in the life of a bravo or condottieri before but men will do such things for family. Unfortunately I cannot help you."

  "There is a sizeable reward if we can retrieve the cargo."

  Fyodor sighed and grabbed his oil cloth and started in on the saddle again, scowling into the gleaming leather rather than meeting Cassian's eyes. "The new Prince of Torrence has demanded the Marquis de Fionni come to Torrence. No one knows why. The Marquis has refused, because he has dreams of sitting on the throne in Lome himself. So the Prince is raising an army to drag the Marquis to Torrence whether he wishes to go or not. In short, it is war."

  This was all news to Cassian. But then again he'd been frantically trying to discover Cazador's fate for the last ten days. He was out of touch with the news. For the Highplains clan it was a good chance to earn some coin and it explained why he'd seen so many of them scrambling to get their mounts and barding ready. "I only need two or three -"

  "The Marquis has demanded a levy. The Slav quarter must furnish five hundred men or face the Reckoners."

  Cassian sucked in a breath. Five hundred men was the number of troops a Count was expected to furnish. He wasn't sure there were even two thousand Slavs in all Fionni, much less five hundred of fighting age. "Will there be enough to meet the demand?"

  "The Highplains Company are a hundred strong," Fyodor said. "We will take as many as we can find in the Quarter then empty our coffers to hire the rest. My kin are not rich but we can afford a few score men if we must."

  The Marquis was getting a steal, then. Not only were the Highplains the best mounted troops for hire in Nerona but they were likely to bring in another mercenary company at their own expense. For Nerona's Slavic population the options were service or expulsion. With no homeland of their own to return to and a reputation of betraying Neronan hospitality so established they were unlikely to find another territory willing to take them in if they were exiled from Fionni. Thus they had no choice but to serve when called upon. "I see. I hadn't realized your position was so difficult, my friend, or I would have turned elsewhere for help."

  "How could you know? The Marquis only called for levies yesterday and you have other things on your mind." Fyodor sighed and threw his cloth down in disgust. "But I regret there is nothing I can do to help you. Just as your worries are for your family; so are mine for my people."

  Cassian nodded. "I understand, my friend, and I'll trouble you about it no more. I have one promising lead. I'm just sorry I won't be able to help you get ready."

  The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Fyodor's mouth. "We will miss your skill with metal, Cassian, but the decrees of fate show no partiality. If it is for you to find your brother you will."

  "He did have the scent of inevitability about him." The voice was deep yet feminine and uncomfortably close to his right ear.

  Cassian frowned and turned his head a few degrees, catching the speaker in the corner of his eye. "Your pardon, signorina, I do not take your meaning. You are?"

  Fyodor's expression matched Cassian's. "This is my sister, Verina." He set his saddle aside and got to his feet. "Rina, what brings you here?"

  "Your friend." She leaned in closer to Cassian and breathed deeply. "The Great Linnorm says he is touched by fate. Has he come to help us?"

  The woman's proximity was obnoxious. Cassian took two deliberate steps away from her, debating whether he should address her or her brother, but stopped short of speaking when a flicker of movement caught the edge of his perception. There was nothing there when he turned to look.

  "He sought our help, sister," Fyodor said, his frown deepening. "His business is his own. I hope Great Linnorm does not demand his aid; it is not my place to ask for it."

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  "No, brother. It is something of the opposite." Verina took a single step around in front of Cassian, studying him intently. Now that she was more in view Cassian had a opportunity to return the favor.

  The first thing he noticed was her size. She was only an inch or two shorter than his own six foot height, well formed and lively. The second thing that stood out was her light brown hair, which was chopped savagely short in the back. It wasn't very fashionable by Neronan standards. However it did reveal the very graceful line of the woman's neck. Verina's strangest feature by far was the black tattoos running down her arms and ending in a strange arrowhead shape on each hand.

  Whatever she saw as she studied him she kept to herself. "What is your name, signore?"

  "Cassian Ironhand."

  "Have you seen an omen from a Herald recently, Cassian Ironhand?"

  He blinked at what felt like a very abrupt change in topic. "No. Well, not as such, although I did pay a visit to a man who's connected to them somehow..." Cassian considered the question a bit more. Everyone knew Adalai Carpathea was connected to the Heralds of Eternity but none of the stories agreed on the nature of their connection. "Is that important?"

  She sighed and turned to her brother, revealing an odd, winglike design on her back connecting the two lines that ran down her arms. "He had a touch of the inevitable on him, brother. Someone has to help him."

  He scowled and set his saddle aside with an emphatic thump. "Who, sister? I have no one to spare!"

  "Yet the Great Linnorm demands the Slavs not abandoned this man." Verina spun around, staring at Cassian with her unsettling blue eyes. "The price we pay for abandoning him will be far greater than what it costs to aid him."

  "Sorry, what price would that be?" Cassian asked. That was almost the last thing on his mind but he wasn't sure what exactly the two of them were talking about so he figured he should just start asking questions and work things out as he got answers.

  "Who can say?" She prodded a finger at his doublet, testing the mail hidden underneath. "Perhaps we'd lose the only blacksmith who doesn't charge us a premium simply because we are Slavs. Perhaps it would be much worse. Most people do not see the ends of their own actions. Or inactions."

  "Call it action or inaction," Fyodor growled, "but I have no men to spare to help him. If the Great Linnorm wishes to help him he must do so himself."

  Verina smiled. "I agree, brother."

  From the horrified look on Fyodor's face Cassian got the feeling something had just gone over his head. "Fyodor, I don't know anything about this Linnorm fellow but I don't want you or him putting your people out for me. There are other fair minded smiths in the city. Tell him I can find some way to sort this out on my own."

  He caught another flicker of motion in the corner of his eye but this time, as he turned his attention back to the matter at hand he caught Verina looking towards the same spot. Then, to his surprise, she raised both hands to chest height, palms up. Her tattoos flickered with a dull green light. Then, as if conjured out of the air itself, two enormous reptilian heads appeared, staring at him with their narrow pupils.

  Cassian had never seen a dragon head before but he knew, with supernatural certainty, that he was looking at two of them now. Each had a pair of graceful, curving horns poking out of its skull just over its eyes. The body of the creature glowed faintly but Cassian could still make out scales and wrinkles in the creature's skin and the outline of the stable walls through it's partly transparent body.

  "We do not make decisions for the Great Linnorm," Verina said, her voice deep and melodious. "He is one of the benefactors of the Slavic people, without whom we would no longer exist. The spirits of the land defended us from calamity once. If we do not have the strength to fend off misfortune now they will intervene for us again, whether we will it or not."

  "No, sister," Fyodor said. "I will not allow you to undertake this task with Cassian. He is an honorable man and worthy of help, no doubt, but you cannot put yourself in danger like that. You are the only Yaga in Fionni, perhaps the only one in Nerona capable of hosting the Great Linnorm. This says nothing of the disgrace of allowing you to travel alone with a man not of your kin!"

  The Linnorm's heads swung about to glare at him, the malice clear in spite of the creature's alien features. Once again Verina spoke on their behalf. "Are you suggesting that a Yaga, blessed by the Great Linnorm, is ever alone, brother?"

  Fyodor visibly flinched, although Cassian couldn't tell if that was because the Linnorm's scrutiny frightened him or because of his sister's question. "Verina. It is a question of your honor."

  "How can a Yaga ignore their spirit and still claim to have honor? Are we not Slavs?"

  "I'm not," Cassian put in. Four heads swiveled to stare at him. Something about the way the two Linnorm heads moved set his nerves on edge. It was deeply unnatural. The siblings were less synchronized but the added scrutiny didn't help. "With due respect to you and your sister, Fyodor, and to the Great Linnorm, I'm a Neronan man. Your people and their traditions have no bearing on me. I've heard that Yagas are like our Heralds, messengers who speak on behalf of Eternity to warn you of things to come, but their power is rooted in your homeland, correct?"

  "It's as you say," Verina answered. "But the fact that the roots are in one place doesn't mean the branches don't reach here."

  Cassian flicked a glance up to the two heads of the Linnorm. "Clearly. But their power is for the Slavs, not the Neronans, nor is there any proof that the spirit's insight is as clear about me as it would be for a Slav. Does the Great Linnorm know in what way fate rests upon me? Will I die if nothing is done? Will I merely fail my task? Or is there some other, greater doom that I will not understand if no child of the Slavic people travels with me?"

  For a long moment Verina and the Linnorm sat in silent congress. The heads of the dragon looked between each other while Verina stared straightforward, her eyes focused in the middle distance. Finally she said, "He doesn't know."

  "Then let me tell you what I know. When a bravo mixes their work with the ways of men and women it is an ill omen. Always, signorina, regardless of nation or spirit." Cassian offered them a bow from the waist. "You honor me by seeking to aid me in my cause and, believe me, I am grateful for it. But if the only aid you can offer me is to send one of your Yagas with me then I must decline. It will make your position worse and it's likely to bring bad fortune to me."

  As he straightened up he caught a look of relief and gratitude on Fyodor's face. Clearly he was happy to have someone else deal with his sister for once. Verina just looked surprised. The Linnorm's heads were as unreadable as always, one head watching Cassian and the other focusing on the siblings. Then the head pointed at Cassian twitched towards the exit to the stable yard. It was enough of a dismissal for him.

  "I hope we'll see each other again when our tasks are done," he said before pivoting on his heel and making a swift retreat. Hopefully Carpathea would be able to free himself from his own entanglements. Two people was not a lot to cross the Drownway but Cassian would prefer that to trying to deal with Verina and the Linnorm the whole way...