He glanced up at the sun. We must hurry, he thought. It’d be worth knocking down a few Temerian posts before noon. And driving in a few of ours.

“You, Poker, follow me. Let’s ride out to meet our guests.”

There were two guests. One was wearing a straw hat, had prominent jawbones and a jutting out chin, and his whole face was blue with several days’ beard. The second was powerfully built, a veritable giant.

“Fysh.”

“Sergeant.”

That annoyed Shevlov. Javil Fysh—not without reason—had brought up their old friendship, the times when they had served together in the regular army. Shevlov didn’t like to be reminded of those days. He didn’t want to be reminded about Fysh, about serving, or about his non-commissioned officer’s pay.

“Free company.” Fysh nodded towards the village, from where yells and crying reached them. “Busy, I see. Punitive expedition, is it? Will you be doing some burning?”

“That’s my business.”

I won’t be, he thought. With regret, because he liked burning down villages, and the company did too. But he had no orders to do so. The orders were to redraw the border and collect levies from the settlers. Drive away insubordinate individuals, but not touch goods or property. For they would serve the new settlers who would be brought there. From the North, where it was crowded even on barren land.

“I caught the freak and am holding her,” he declared. “As ordered. Tied up. It wasn’t easy. Had I known I would have asked for more. But we agreed on five hundred, so I’m due five hundred.”

Fysh nodded and the giant rode up and gave Shevlov two plump purses. He had a viper curled around a dagger blade tattooed on his forearm. Shevlov knew that tattoo.

A horseman from the company appeared with the captive. The freak had a sack over her head reaching her knees, with a cord restraining her arms. Bare legs, as thin as rakes, protruded from the sack.

“What’s this?” Fysh pointed at the captive. “My dear sergeant? Five hundred Novigradian crowns? Bit steep for a pig in a poke.”

“The sack comes free,” replied Shevlov coldly. “Like this good advice. Don’t untie her and don’t look inside.”

“Why?”

“It’s risky. She bites. And might cast a spell.”

The giant slung the captive across his saddle. The freak, until then calm, struggled, kicked and howled in the sack. It was very little use, as the sack was holding her fast.

“How do I know it is what I’m paying for?” asked Fysh, “and not some chance maid? Like from this here village?”

“Are you accusing me of lying?”